Page 40 of Ruined By Blood (Feretti Syndicate #2)

I stand in Sterling's office, taking in every detail. Four armed guards remain positioned at each corner of the room, their hands hovering near holstered weapons.

Sterling's eyes keep darting between Charlotte and me, his composure cracking just enough to show the fear beneath. The explosive device strapped to Charlotte's chest—clever work from Daniel that looks real enough to fool anyone not trained in demolitions—continues its steady red blinking.

"What is it you want?" Sterling finally asks, his voice tight.

I lean forward slightly, enjoying how he flinches. "First, I need to understand some things about these past years. About you."

"I don't have time for games, Feretti."

"This isn't a game." My voice drops to that quiet register that makes even my own men nervous. "It's a story. About a man who used his family as nothing but tools to build his fortune."

The guard nearest the window shifts his weight. Sterling waves a hand dismissively. "And why would I listen to your stories?"

"Because Charlotte's finger is on that detonator, and she's been dreaming about pressing it for years."

Charlotte's eyes never leave Sterling's face, her hatred palpable in the room.

I continue, voice conversational now. "Six months ago, there was a man named Vargas.

Similar to you in many ways. Wealthy, connected, thought himself untouchable.

" I pace a few steps, noting how the guards track my movement.

"Vargas had a sister. Beautiful woman. Smart too.

But Vargas saw her as nothing but an asset. "

Sterling's jaw tightens.

"He married her off to secure a business deal. When she objected, he had her beaten until she complied." I stop pacing. "Sounds familiar, Henry?"

"If you have a point, get to it."

"Vargas leveraged his sister's trust fund, much like you've done with Charlotte's.

Kept her medicated when she refused to sign papers.

" I rest my hands on the back of a chair, the picture of relaxed control while fury burns beneath.

"Vargas thought he was clever, thought no one would notice or care. "

Charlotte's voice is barely a whisper. "What happened to him? "

I hold Sterling's gaze as I answer her. "I happened to him."

Sterling laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Am I supposed to be frightened by your little story?"

"It's not the story that should frighten you.

" I move closer, maintaining eye contact.

"It's what I did to Vargas after I found out.

How I visited him at his home, like I'm visiting you.

How I took what he valued most. Not his money or his business, but his sense of security, his belief that he was untouchable. "

The guards shift uncomfortably.

"Vargas is still alive, if you're wondering. Lives in a small apartment in Detroit now. Works as a janitor. Sometimes he wakes up screaming, remembering the night I took everything from him. His company. His reputation. His fingers, one by one."

Sterling's face hardens. "You think I don't know who you are, Feretti? You're a thug with a fancy suit."

"And you're a monster who sells his own daughter." My voice remains perfectly calm. "I've spent a couple of days with Sienna, and I already know more about her than you ever bothered to learn in twenty-one years."

Charlotte makes a small sound beside me, her eyes filling with tears.

"Now," I continue, "here's what's going to happen. You're going to tell me exactly what arrangement you had with Cortez regarding Sienna."

Sterling's lips curve into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Cortez doesn't know anything about her little disappearance. I managed to keep that quiet. Had to make some creative excuses for his meetings."

"Tell me about the arrangement," I press, keeping my voice deadly calm despite the rage boiling beneath my skin .

Sterling leans back in his chair, trying to project confidence though I can see the calculation in his eyes. He's weighing his options, determining how much to reveal.

"It's a marriage deal," he finally says with a dismissive wave. "Simple business arrangement. Cortez has no heirs and wanted a young wife. I needed his shipping routes."

"And selling your daughter seemed like a fair trade?" The words come out colder than ice.

"Don't be dramatic, Feretti. She was going to live in luxury. Cortez has properties worth millions all over Mexico."

Charlotte's hand trembles beside me, her knuckles white around the detonator.

"A gilded cage is still a cage," I say. "And we both know Cortez's reputation with women."

Sterling shrugs as if we're discussing the weather instead of his daughter's life. "Business requires compromise."

My patience evaporates. "I want to see Sienna."

"She's not part of our negotiation?—"

"I want Sienna in this office. Now." The deadly quiet in my voice makes even the guards tense. "Or Charlotte presses that button, and we all find out if your expensive artwork is flammable."

Sterling studies my face, searching for any sign of bluff. Finding none, he turns to the guard by the door.

"Get my daughter," he orders. "Bring her here."

Sterling's attention is now fixed on Charlotte. "All these years, I kept you comfortable, safe. Protected. This is how you repay me? By conspiring with criminals?"

Charlotte's laugh is hollow. "Comfortable? You kept me drugged in a cell for years. "

"It was a private medical facility. The best care money could buy."

"It was hell," she whispers.

I don't flinch when three sharp knocks sound on my bedroom door.

"Miss Sterling?" A man's voice calls through the door before it swings open. I never bothered learning his name. "Your father requires your presence in his office immediately."

My heart hammers against my bruised ribs, but I keep my expression blank. "I'll be right there."

He nods, eyes skimming over the bruises on my face without emotion. "I'm to escort you."

Of course he is. No more chances for escape.

I follow him through the familiar halls of my prison, each step sending dull pain through my body. My father's violence is still fresh, but something stronger than pain drives me forward. Hope. For the first time in years, real hope pulses through my veins.

The guard stops at the heavy double doors of my father's office, knocking once before opening them for me. I step inside, and my world shifts on its axis.

My mother stands there .

After years of seeing her only in a drugged stupor, barely recognizing me, she's here. Her face is thinner than I remember, with new lines around her eyes, but it's her. Really her.

"Charlotte." My father's voice cuts through the air like a blade. "Tell your daughter to sit down."

I scan the room quickly, finally spotting Enzo standing to the left of my father's desk. His expression is granite, unreadable to anyone who doesn't know him. But I see the storm in his eyes when they meet mine, taking in every bruise and mark my father left.

"Sienna." My mother's voice is soft but steadier than I expected. "Please sit, sweetheart."

She smiles at me but there's something more there. A warning or message she's trying to convey. Her fingers tremble slightly at her sides, and she's blinking rapidly in a pattern that seems deliberate.

I keep my face expressionless as I cross to the chair she's indicating.

"How touching," my father sneers from behind his desk. "A family reunion."

I catch Enzo's subtle head movement—the barest shake warning me to play along. Something's happening here that I don't fully understand yet.

"Now that we're all here," my father says, "perhaps we can discuss terms like civilized people."

Enzo's eyes haven't left my face since I entered. The bruises must be worse than I thought.

"You put your hands on her." Enzo's voice is deceptively soft, almost conversational, but I recognize the deadly calm beneath it.

My father laughs, the sound empty of any real humor. "She's my daughter. I'll do whatever I please with her."

"Every mark on her body is a debt you'll pay." Enzo steps forward, his movement fluid and controlled like a predator. "And I collect my debts in blood."

"With one word, everyone in this room is dead." He smirks at my mother. "And I won't give a fuck about the money if I have to choose between it and my life."

The words slip out before I can stop them. "Of course you put yourself above money. A thing you've never done for me or my mother."

My father's attention snaps to me, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You've developed quite the mouth since your little vacation with the Ferettis."

"I've developed nothing," I say, feeling something break loose inside me. "I've always known what you are. I just never had the courage to say it before."

My father stands, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "You ungrateful little?—"

"Choose your next words carefully," Enzo cuts in, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow fills the entire room. "Very carefully."

The air between them crackles with tension. My father's face flushes with rage, but something in Enzo's eyes makes him hesitate.

"You think you understand what's happening here?" My father laughs bitterly. "You think you can walk into my house and threaten me? I've been playing this game since before you were born, boy."