Page 7

7

ALESSANDRO

T he air in Bellissimo feels off as soon as I walk in. It’s a shift so slight that most wouldn’t notice it, but I do. Conversations stop when I pass by, and men stare at the floor instead of meeting my eye. There’s an undercurrent of tension that has alarm bells ringing in my head.

There’s only one person in this building I care about, and I’m determined to confirm her safety before trying to get to the bottom of whatever bullshit is going on here.

I move fast, stalking through the main floor and heading toward the stairs. The elevator would be too slow. I try to keep my cool. Emmy should be at her desk in front of my office like she always is. I told her to stay put until I finished up with business, thinking she’d be safe enough with the floor being inaccessible without a keycard, but dread had already started to settle in my chest.

The hallway is too quiet when I reach the top floor. Her desk is empty, but the office door is open just a crack, light spilling into the dim corridor, and for a beat, I start to relax. She’s just inside my office. Nothing is wrong.

And then I see it.

The chair behind the desk is tipped over. Papers are scattered across the floor, twisted and crumpled as if whoever had been holding them was involved in a struggle. All of that fades into the background when I see the red.

A smear of red stains the corner of the desk. The world tilts around me.

I stare at the blood for one long, frozen second before my pulse explodes in my ears, drowning out every other sound. Rage threatens to drown me, but I can’t give in to it. Not yet, not when I still need to find her and whatever bastard would dare to touch what is mine.

I don't even recall running back down the stairs to the main floor, throwing the door open so hard that it slams against the wall. The clatter of wine glasses and silverware stops at the sound, and when I turn the corner into the bar, everyone is staring at me.

"Everyone in the meeting room. NOW. We've got work to do."

There's a pause where no one moves, but I'm not fucking around. My voice is dangerously calm. "That wasn't a suggestion. Get your asses moving."

I turn on my heel, not waiting for them to follow me. I know they will. When I reach the meeting room, I pace, trying to get a grip on the rage and fear making my pulse thunder in my ears.

Someone took her from me. Someone hurt her. And I'm going to make them wish they'd never been born.

The others start filing in, taking their seats, but I can barely look at them. They're all suspects, as far as I'm concerned.

"What the hell is going on, Boss?" one of the men—Lorenzo, a Caporegime—asks, breaking the silence.

"You're here because there's a rat in this room, and I want to know who it is."

There are murmurs of confusion, but I don't care.

"Someone was in my office today while I was gone, and they hurt someone very important to me." I push my suit jacket aside, hand resting on my pistol as I scan the group. "She was bleeding. There was blood. I'm not letting anyone walk out of here until I find out who the fuck did this."

"We'll find her, Boss, but this isn't the way to do it," Lorenzo says. "Just tell us what to do.”

"Someone sold Enzo out. And now they've taken Emilia. I don't want to think it's any of you, but that doesn't mean I won't do whatever the hell it takes to find out."

My voice is deadly, and everyone knows I mean business. They all know what I'm capable of. Hell, in the last week, some of them have seen me make grown men beg for their lives with nothing more than my words and my fists.

"I want every inch of this city searched. Someone has seen something, and we're going to find out who. Do you understand? And if any harm comes to her..." I let my voice trail off. I don't need to finish the threat.

They nod, murmuring agreements. Lorenzo clears his throat. "Boss, we should probably call in the Underboss. He isn't here."

Fucking Marco. A thread of suspicion shoots through me, but I keep my expression steady. Surely Enzo's hand-picked second wouldn't dream of being a traitor. "Do it."

The men file out, and I watch them leave, my jaw clenched so tight it's painful. The Underboss might be Enzo's man, but he's also one of the few people who has access to my office. I trust him implicitly, and the idea that he could betray me is more than I can fathom.

But he's the most obvious choice. He knew where I'd be earlier, and that Emmy was alone.

Lorenzo stays and tries to call Marco once, and then twice, and by the third attempt with no answer, he's gone pale. "Boss, he's not picking up."

Fuck. "Lorenzo, keep your answer short. Could Marco be the rat?"

Lorenzo hesitates, and that's all I need to know.

"Find him."

It takes longer than I want to compile a list of places Marco could be hiding Emmy—the irony isn't lost on me that she could have done the job in minutes—but despite sending crews of soldiers out, we've come up short.

It isn't until I'm at Emmy's desk, rummaging through it to find any sort of clue about where she could be, that I find a document labeled "properties to sell". It’s a list of warehouses and safe houses marked as unneeded by the family, and from Emmy's notes, all of them have been offloaded to buyers.

If these properties were sold, they wouldn't be in any of the family records anymore. Anyone could have bought them. It’s the perfect place to hide someone.

I curse, shoving the papers back onto Emmy's desk and dialing Lorenzo's number. When he answers, I don't give him time to speak. "I'm going to send you a list of addresses. I want them searched immediately."

"We'll find her, Boss."

I end the call without another word, pulling up the list and texting the addresses to Lorenzo. I should probably stay put, but I can't stand waiting here anymore. If I stay in this office, I'm going to lose my mind.

I head down to the parking garage and climb into my car. It's reckless, maybe, but if Marco is the one who has Emilia, then I have to be there when we find him. I won't let him hurt her. Not ever again.

The city flies by around me, but I barely notice. All I can think about is finding Emmy. It's been hours since I found her office in disarray, and every minute that passes makes me fear the worst. I should have protected her better. I should have never let her out of my sight.

I'm almost to the first address on the list when my phone buzzes. I snatch it up, answering it without checking the caller ID.

"Did you find her?"

"I did." Lorenzo's voice is calm, but it doesn't comfort me. "Marco's car has been spotted parked down the road from the third warehouse on the list. I've got my crew on the way, and I'm five minutes out."

I curse. "Stay out of sight until I get there. I want to confront this bastard myself."

"On it."

I toss the phone aside without ending the call and gun the engine. Every muscle in my body is coiled tight, ready for action. I reach the address in eight minutes, finding Lorenzo and his crew lurking around the side of the building.

I join them, crouching beside Lorenzo as I stare through a grimy window at the scene inside.

Marco is standing over a chair, holding a gun. In the chair is Emilia, her arms bound behind her back, blood caked on the side of her face. She's gagged, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she holds her chin high. She looks terrified, but I can see the steel in her eyes.

Even now, she's defiant. My brave girl.

Anger burns in my veins. "I'm going to kill him."

Lorenzo doesn’t even question it. "What's the plan?"

I glance over at him. "I'm going in. You stay here, and get ready to move when I give the signal."

Lorenzo nods, signaling to his crew. I wait until they're in position before I make my move.

I slip through the door and into the warehouse. Marco doesn't hear me at first. He's too busy gloating to Emilia, telling her about how he was the one who killed Enzo. How he's the one that sold us out.

"It was so easy. The old man never saw it coming." He laughs, gesturing with his gun. "He was always too trusting. But he just wouldn't die fast enough, and when the Salvatore family contacted me offering one hell of a payday for family secrets, I couldn't pass the opportunity up."

Emilia lets out a muffled scream, thrashing against her bonds.

"I would have just let him live out his last years, you know, until I discovered that he planned to name Alessandro his successor instead of me. I even had to off his old whore when she started running her mouth about me after Enzo was buried. Now we just have to see what Alessandro values more—being the DeLuca Boss or you."

A realization hits me at his words. What would I give up for Emmy? It might make me weak, but I think I'd burn the entire fucking city to the ground to save her. What Marco doesn't know, though, is that I have zero plans to give either up. I'm going to stay the Boss, and I'm going to get my woman.

He has no idea who he's fucked with.

"Why don’t you ask me yourself, Marco?" I growl, stepping forward.

He spins, eyes widening when he sees me. He swings his gun up, but I'm faster. I fire twice, hitting him in the shoulder. He screams, falling back, dropping his gun as he clutches at the wound.

"Fuck! You shot me, you bastard!"

I stalk toward him. "That's the least of what you deserve, you fucking traitor."

"You'll never be a good boss like Enzo was. You're too soft, Alessandro," he spits. "He should have chosen me."

"You betrayed him. You killed him." My voice is cold. I've never felt such fury, but I keep it tightly reined in. "And now you're going to pay the price."

"You won't kill me," Marco sneers. "You don't have the guts. You never did."

"I'm not going to kill you." I reach him, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him close. "I'm going to do something far worse."

His eyes widen, and then I slam my fist into his face, over and over again. I keep hitting him until my knuckles are bloody and he's barely conscious. When I finally release him, he slumps to the floor, groaning.

I turn my attention to Emilia, pulling the gag from her mouth and carefully removing her binds. She falls against me as soon as she's free, clinging to me like I'm her lifeline.

"I thought he was going to kill you," she whispers, voice hoarse.

"Never," I tell her, holding her tight. "I'm never going to let anyone hurt you again, Emilia. I promise."

I kiss her forehead gently, giving the signal for Lorenzo's team to move in. There's no doubt that Marco probably has some lackeys of his own hiding out, and I need my men to take care of them. "Let's get you home."

I carry her out of the warehouse and into the night. Once inside the car, I only hesitate long enough to text Lorenzo.

“Deal with Marco. Finish the job, and make sure he's never found.”