Page 35 of Ruined By Blood (Feretti Syndicate #2)

I slam through the door of my office with such force it almost tears off the hinges. The rage is a living thing inside me, clawing its way through my chest, demanding release.

"Fuck!" The word explodes from me as I sweep everything off my desk with a single violent motion. Papers flutter through the air, my laptop crashes to the floor, and a crystal paperweight shatters against the wall.

It's not enough. Nothing will be enough until Sienna is back and Henry Sterling is bleeding out at my feet.

I grab the heavy oak chair and hurl it across the room where it splinters against my bookshelf, sending volumes crashing down.

Each impact feeds the fury rather than diminishing it.

The image of Sienna's face as that bastard dragged her away replays in my mind like a fucking nightmare I can't wake from.

"I'll kill him," I growl, smashing my fist into the wall. Pain shoots up my arm, but it's nothing compared to what's raging inside me. "I'll rip him apart with my bare hands."

I seize a crystal decanter of whiskey and hurl it at the opposite wall, where it explodes in a shower of glass and amber liquid. The scent of bourbon fills the air, mingling with the copper tang of blood from my split knuckles.

Through the red haze of my rage, I'm dimly aware of Damiano standing in the doorway. He makes no move to stop me, just watches as I systematically demolish everything within reach.

"You done?" he asks quietly, his voice carrying easily through the sudden silence.

I breathe hard, chest heaving with each ragged inhale. Blood drips from my knuckles onto the scattered papers at my feet. The office looks like a fucking war zone.

"You done?" Damiano asks again, his voice deceptively calm.

I spin toward him, pointing a bloody finger at his face. "Don't. Don't fucking stand there acting all composed when Sterling has her."

"We'll get her back, Enzo." His tone is measured, reasonable—which only feeds my rage.

"When?" I snarl. "Tomorrow? Next week? After that sick fuck has already sold her to Cortez?"

"We need a plan?—"

"We had time for a plan!" My voice tears through the room. "We should have put a bullet in Sterling's head the minute we knew what he was doing to her. Instead, we sat around talking about the right approach while that bastard was already moving against us."

Damiano's jaw tightens. "We needed proof?—"

"Proof?" I laugh, the sound harsh and broken. "The proof was written all over her body in scars and cigarette burns! But no, we wanted to play it smart, right? Thought we had more time?"

"Enzo—"

"Well, congratulations, brother." The word drips with venom. "Your strategic patience just got Sienna handed back to the monster who's been selling her since she was a fucking kid."

Damiano's eyes darken dangerously. "You need to calm down."

"Fuck calm!" I kick the remains of my chair across the floor. "While we were being careful not to upset the delicate fucking balance of power in this city, Sterling waltzed in and took her right from under our noses!"

Damiano steps into the room, his control slipping. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't feel responsible? But losing your shit isn't bringing her back any faster!"

"What's your brilliant plan now, Don Feretti? More waiting? More talking? How about we send him a strongly worded letter?"

"I swear to God, Enzo, if you don't get a grip, I'm going to knock some sense into you myself."

I step closer until we're nose to nose. "Try it. Maybe a fight is exactly what I need right now."

"Both of you, stop."

Alessio stands in the doorway, his expression grim. He looks between us, taking in my bloody hands and Damiano's clenched fists.

"This isn't helping " he says flatly. "Save it for Sterling. "

The tension crackles between Damiano and me, neither of us backing down. Alessio stands at the threshold, waiting for us to regain our senses. The wreckage of my office surrounds us—shattered glass, splintered wood, and the scent of spilled whiskey hanging in the air.

I drag a hand down my face, smearing blood across my cheek without caring. The rage still burns white-hot.

"Her mother," I say suddenly.

Damiano's brow furrows. "What?"

"Charlotte Sterling. Sienna's mother." The words come faster now as the pieces fall into place. "That's how we turn this around on Sterling."

Alessio steps into the room, carefully avoiding the broken glass. "The mother's been out of the picture for years."

"No," I shake my head, pacing now as the plan forms. "She's alive. In some private clinic Sterling controls. He's keeping her drugged, compliant."

Damiano watches me carefully. "How do you know this?"

"Sienna told me. Sterling caught them trying to escape when Sienna was fifteen. Sent the mother away for 'specialized care.' It's his leverage over Sienna."

Alessio's expression shifts. "So if we find the mother?—"

"We find Sterling's weakness," I finish. "He's kept her alive for a reason. Either as punishment or control."

I step into the dining room, a place haunted by a thousand silent meals and countless invisible bruises. The table stretches before me like a no-man's land, with Henry already seated at the head, waiting. My father. My owner.

"Sienna." His voice carries that familiar chill—the one that still makes my spine straighten automatically. "You look refreshed after your... adventure."

I sit where I always have, to his right, close enough to reach if he's displeased. The place setting gleams with polished silver and bone china—a parody of family warmth.

"I trust you're hungry." He nods to Martha as she places a plate of perfectly arranged food before me. Sea bass with asparagus and lemon butter sauce. My stomach knots at the sight.

"Not particularly," I say, picking up my fork to push food around my plate.

Henry takes a bite, chewing methodically. "I'm curious about your time with the Ferettis. Their reputation precedes them, of course."

"They're monsters," I say, the lie burning my throat like acid. "Especially Enzo."

"Oh?" Henry's eyes glint with interest as he cuts his fish with surgical precision.

"Cold. Calculating." I force myself to meet his gaze. "He kept me locked up. Threatened me." Each word feels like a betrayal, but I know it's what Henry needs to hear. That Enzo is just another version of him.

A monster.

"I was afraid every moment," I continue, the only truth in my web of lies.

Henry nods, seemingly satisfied. "Did he touch you?"

I think of Enzo's hands on my skin, his lips against my scars, how he made me feel whole for the first time.

"No," I lie. "He found me... distasteful. Damaged goods."

Something like relief crosses Henry's face. He takes a sip of wine, studying me over the rim of his glass.

"Good. That simplifies matters." He sets down his glass with a soft clink against the tablecloth. "I've arranged a marriage for you."

My fork slips from my fingers.

"Marriage?" My voice sounds distant, hollow.

"Yes. Cortez has graciously agreed to take you as his wife rather than merely as part of our business arrangement. He leaves for Mexico in three weeks. The ceremony will be the night before that."

The room spins around me. Marriage. To Cortez.

"I don't understand," I manage, my mouth dry as sand. "Why marriage? I thought?—"

"You thought what, Sienna?" Henry's eyebrow arches, a warning.

I swallow hard. "I thought the arrangement was temporary. For his visit only."

"Plans change. This is more advantageous for all parties." He cuts another piece of fish. "As his wife, you'll have certain protections. It's quite generous of him, considering your condition."

"You've managed to sell me once and for all, then." The words escape before I can stop them, brittle with the rage I've suppressed for years.

Henry pauses mid-bite, setting his fork down with deliberate calm.

"Excuse me? "

I should back down. I know I should. But something inside me has broken open, and I can't seem to stop the words pouring out.

"How does it feel?" I ask, my voice trembling. "Selling your own blood like this? Your daughter? How did you do that in the first place?"

The temperature in the room seems to drop. Henry dabs his mouth with his napkin, every movement precise and controlled.

"You seem to be under the misapprehension that you have some say in this matter." His voice is soft, almost conversational, which makes it all the more terrifying. "You've always been an investment, Sienna. Nothing more."

The words land like blows, but I refuse to flinch.

"An investment," I repeat. "Is that what you told yourself when you first sold me at fourteen? That your daughter was just a business opportunity?"

A muscle ticks in his jaw. "You should be grateful, you know. Cortez could have you without the ring. This way, you'll have status. Security."

"As what? His property instead of yours?" I laugh, a hollow sound that surprises even me. "How generous."

Henry's fingers tighten around his knife, knuckles whitening. For a moment, I think he'll lunge across the table. Instead, he inhales deeply, regaining his composure.

"You're lucky I'm in a particularly good mood tonight," he says, voice dangerously quiet. "Otherwise, I'd be inclined to show you your place."

I stare back at him, refusing to lower my gaze. "Thank you," I say, injecting every syllable with as much irony as I dare. "How considerate of you."

His lips thin to a bloodless line. "You've changed, Sienna. I don't care for it. "

"I imagine you don't." I place my napkin beside my untouched plate and stand. "If there's nothing else, I'd like to retire for the night."

Henry watches me with cold calculation, assessing whether breaking me now is worth the trouble. Finally, he waves his hand in dismissal.

"Go. We'll discuss wedding preparations tomorrow."

I turn and walk from the dining room, my legs trembling but my back straight. Only when I'm safely in the hallway do I allow myself a shuddering breath.