Page 11

CHAPTER 11

Alessandro

“ H ey there, handsome,” a woman purrs, winking at me as she walks by. Gun to my head, I won’t be able to tell you what she looked like.

My entire focus is on the two men standing at the end of the hallway.

I shouldn’t be here.

I’m being reckless and cocky right now, but I can’t seem to find a fuck to give. I can feel threads begin to unravel on what is supposed to be my perfect revenge fabric. And it’s all because of the hazel-eyed woman who is mutilating her clothes at the moment.

Disgust at myself rises to the surface. Hot, bitter, and cloying.

As if I don’t have enough to be ashamed about after blowing my load to the mental image of my captive on her knees for me, I’ve also added watching her obsessively to my long list of insane behaviors.

Maurizio had been puzzled when I ordered him to turn off his monitor access to the cameras in Sienna’s room, and his brow shot up to his hairline when I made him connect the cameras to my phone.

It was a big mistake.

Even now I can feel my hands twitching to reach for my phone and check if she was done slicing the lounge clothes to ribbons.

Spoiled little brat.

It’s going to be fun watching her without clothes. If she thinks I’m going to replace the ruined clothes, she had better think again. I’m not Santa Claus or her freaking father.

Ahead of me, I see Ivan drag a hand through his still-full head of brown hair. It’s a little relieving to see that there is only a weak resemblance between him and his daughter.

Not that it makes jerking off to an image of his daughter any better.

I don’t know who the man standing with him is, but he has been featured in some of the other photographs my informant has sent over. I immediately dislike the man, and there’s an insane urge to go over there and plant my fist in his face.

My phone begins to buzz, and I pick it up, shifting further behind the wall I’ve positioned myself behind. “Yes?” I bark into the phone.

“Boss, I have information on the man,” my informant says.

“Good,” I say with a nod. “Send me everything you have on him.”

“I’m en route to your house with the document right now.”

I hang up.

Before the day ends, I’ll know everything about the bastard and whether he can be another tool in my revenge. Anybody Ivan cares about, even the tiniest bit, isn’t safe from me. His complete destruction is my goal.

Which means everything and everyone he loves or cares about.

The man peels away from Ivan, his phone pressed to his ear. Good, this is my opportunity to approach the bastard.

I freeze as the man stops close to the dark corner of the gallery that I’m tucked into.

“I’m working on it,” the man bites into the phone. “Just give me some time.”

My eyebrows wrinkle, and I wait to hear more.

“No. There was a hitch in the plan, but it’s not a problem. I can go ahead with the original plan. I just need some time to set things in motion and re-strategize.” There’s a pause, then he adds, “Of course. I won’t fail you.”

Whatever the hell he’s talking about, it’s not my business. It can be anything from a surprise party to the launch of a nuclear missile. Still not my business. I’m far more interested in the older man standing alone in the middle of the gallery, looking lost.

I step out of the alcove and walk toward Ivan. I’m a few steps away from him when Ettore joins him.

“Sienna is a brilliant artist. I didn’t know she had family around,” Ettore says. “She was supposed to come into the gallery and discuss a new collection for our summer show, but she never showed up. Honestly, I haven’t seen her since she sold out The Revelation.”

“It sold out?” Her father sounds shocked, and I narrow my eyes at him, annoyed by the surprise in his voice.

Doesn’t he know how talented his own daughter is? He should be more surprised there wasn’t news of a fight starting up in the gallery over her paintings.

“Yes, an anonymous buyer paid fifteen million dollars for them.”

Suspicion clouds his gaze. “And you don’t have any idea who this anonymous buyer might be?”

“That would be me, Ivan,” I say, stepping up to him.

His eyes go round with shock for a second before he recovers himself and steps forward. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, Mr. Mancini.” Ettore beams at me, dollar signs in his eyes. “Welcome back to the gallery. You left rather in a hurry the other day.”

I grit my teeth, too impatient to deal with the gallery owner. “I did, didn’t I?” The look I slant him causes blood to drain from his face.

“I—If you’ll excuse me, please,” he stutters and then escapes to the other side of the room.

“Ivan, it’s been ages. You don’t look too well. I wonder what the problem might be.”

“You have my daughter.” It’s a statement, not a question, and I’m proud of his quick deductive skills.

My mouth curves up. “Bravo, D’Addario. I knew there was a reason you made it so far in the system. No, wait, I think I have you mixed up with someone else. Ah, yes, I remember. You got so far by getting your hands stained with the blood of the innocent. We must go out for drinks sometime so I can teach you some tricks of our world.”

“Our world?” he growls. “I don’t belong to your world, and I’ll never associate with the likes of you.”

My jaw ticks. “Isn’t it a little too late for that?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “What are you talking about?”

I tsk. “Come now, Ivan. Let’s not play these games. They are ever so tiring.”

Ignoring me, he steps forward, his hands fisting into the collar of my shirt. “Where’s Sienna?”

I applaud his guts. I have about four inches and several pounds on him. He knows I’ve killed men, and I’m not skittish about doing it again, and yet, here he is, getting physical with me.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do anything to attract attention to us,” I tell him calmly. I can hold my own, and most of the cops in the city are in my pocket, so I’m not afraid of being tossed into a cell, but I’m not also in the mood to ruin my suit.

“Sir?”

I turn my head to eye the man he had been standing with. Then, I drop my gaze to where his hand is cocked over the bulge in his hip.

The look I give the man shows how unmoved I am by the threat of being shot at.

“Tell your guard dog to stand down.” I fix my gaze back on the older man. I still as our eyes lock on each other.

They have the same eyes.

Not the same color, but they have the same shape and intensity to them. I bite down on my tongue to distract myself from my unnecessary observation. It doesn’t matter. They can have the same exact face, and it still won’t matter.

“Leave us, son,” Ivan says.

Son? Curious eyes lock on the man. Who the fuck is this asshole? And why does Ivan call him son? I don’t like the fury that bursts to life and sizzles against my skin.

Who is he to Sienna?

And most importantly, why do I care?

“He has Sienna.” Ivan sounds defeated, and it makes me chuckle.

“Let’s take him down to the station and question him, then. I know someone at the precinct who can break even the toughest bastards. In less than an hour, he’ll have him singing like a canary.”

Ivan’s brown eyes meet mine. “Sienna will be dead by then.”

“Atta boy,” I say.

“Walk away, son. This is between me and Mancini.”

The younger man, in a show of peacocking, gets close to my face. “If you touch one hair on her head, I swear to you, there’s not a corner of this planet you’ll be able to hide.”

I keep my expression carefully blank, my voice cold as ice. “Get out of my face, or you’ll spend the rest of your life being fed through tubes.”

Terror flashes through his eyes, and with a muttered growl, he storms off.

“What do you want?” Ivan asks. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you. Please. She’s all I’ve got.”

Pasquale was all I had, too. “I have to admit, you did a good job hiding her. That’s how I knew she was valuable to you. Nobody goes through all that trouble for something or someone they only care a little about.”

“What do you want?” he repeats.

“What lengths will you go to get her back?” I muse. “Will you lose the Hendrix case for her?”

The man jerks, but it’s only a momentary reaction before determination fills his brown gaze. “Yes.”

Reluctant pride and fury war against each other in my mind. Was this how easy it was for him to sign my brother’s freedom and life away?

“If that’s what will get her back, then I’ll do it, no questions asked,” he declares.

My fists tighten at my side. “If only it were that easy, Ivan.” I chuckle humorlessly.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this. If you have a problem with me, then come for me like a goddamn man,” he bites out. “You’re a goddamn coward. Only cowards go after people’s families.”

I hold myself back from planting a bullet in his head. That would have been the fate of anybody else who dared to call me a coward. Fortunately for the prosecutor, I still need him alive a little longer so he can suffer the full extent of my revenge.

“An eye for an eye. You went after my family, and now I’m going after yours.”

His forehead creases. “Your family? What family?”

I merely grin wryly. “He was just an insignificant life to you, but to me, he was the foundation upon which my humanity was built. You had better remember and remember fast. Only then can you begin to atone for what you’ve done.”

“I’ve done nothing,” he spits. “The only thing I’ve ever done is fight for justice. And I’m not sorry that one of your criminal friends got the justice they deserved.”

I nod calmly. “I know you’re not. But you will be, Ivan. You have enough time to be sorry. Weeks and months where you sit in your empty house and drive yourself crazy with wild imaginations of what your precious daughter is going through.”

“You bastard! You have no morals.”

I throw my head back and laugh, attracting the attention of several people in the gallery. I can’t believe that just a week ago, I had stood here with a gorgeous artist by my side, not having a clue as to who she was.

“Of all the things I’ve been accused of, a lack of morality is by far the tamest,” I reply.

“You’ll never get away with this.” The man suddenly looks tired. Old. But it’s not enough. I won’t stop until he’s nothing but empty eyes and flesh molded to bones.

“I have gotten away with it, Ivan. Once upon a time, you held my fate in your hands, and you crushed it ruthlessly. Now, it’s my turn.” The smile I give him makes him flinch. “I must say you’ve raised a beautiful daughter. So perfect. So pure. Tainting her with these corrupt hands will be my pleasure.”

“No,” Ivan’s voice is a choked-out plea. “Please.”

I turn on my heels and walk away from him.

The smile on my face is for the benefit of the man glaring at me from the door. On the inside, the only thing I feel from that encounter is a crippling frustration.

This isn’t the plan. Everything feels wrong.

Outside, the sky is a muted gray, and it matches my shitty mood perfectly.