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D ying would be more interesting than this. Or at least some more torture would be. Taking our fingers was the last fun thing the assholes did, and now, the throbbing pain is just irritating. What I wouldn’t give for some of Doc’s good drugs right about now. Or some of the Japanese whisky that Hollis got from one of his assassin friends.

Whatever would help numb the pain in both my hand and head the quickest, I’m not picky.

Toeing at the bowl of dog food that was left following our captor’s very dramatic announcement…yesterday? Probably? Now that apparently they’ve decided to feed us lower-grade kibble stuff that Leandro wouldn’t even feed to Boston, it’s hard to gauge the time.

“What the hell is that?” Allesandro asks.

I smile but quietly finish singing the verse before answering. “ ‘Flaws’. It…was our wedding song,” I say, even quieter than the whispering we’ve been doing. Clearing my throat, I look away from that intense blue gaze. It’s the wrong shade, but no less captivating than my husband’s. “After everything I put Carter through…all the pain and suffering, the scars, he was worried I would see him differently. But, Roman’s musical taste isn’t all bad, and it helped me show Carter I loved him for him, not just because of his pretty face.” I smirk. “Though that certainly is a bonus.”

Before Allesandro can respond, our cell door opens and the troop of goons enter, making me sigh. I almost want to ask Allesandro if he minds being shot, just so I can have a little fun, but with my luck, they’d kill him either on purpose or by accident, and the last thing I need is his fiancé coming after me. Though there’s also a chance Roman would kill me for his friend.

Our captor walks in, almost skipping. Allesandro and I exchange a look because someone so jovial is just…wrong. I enjoy a little torture and kidnapping as much as the next person, but I can’t say it’s ever made me giddy like a teenager with their first crush before.

He looks down at the untouched dog bowls and tsks. “You don’t want to lose your strength, do you? I’d be very disappointed if you died because you were both stupid.” He shakes his head. “Should I have them wet it a little? I’m sorry, I suppose dry food is a bit cruel without something to wash it down with. I’d be a terrible host if I let you choke on your food.” His smile and tone of voice remind me of Carter’s dead brother—who was completely psychotic.

What I wouldn’t give to watch my Caro whip him with barbed wire before Allesandro and I take our revenge. I add that fantasy to the running list of things to possibly do once we’re out of here.

“I have something for you, Cristian.” The smile this time is manic, his dull brown eyes shining with delight. “It was unfair for only Il Padrone here to get news last time, so…here you go.”

A newspaper gets dropped onto my lap and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Really, this bit is getting old. He reaches for his gun when I don’t immediately pick up the newspaper and I sigh, reluctantly grabbing the stupid thing.

I’ve barely scanned the headline: Gunfight in Quiet, Prestigious Neighborhood , when the asshole speaks. “Guess you have more enemies than you thought.” He tsks again. “Not surprising, scum like you are bound to piss people off.”

I don’t bother responding as I'm too busy reading the front-page article. I'm unable to help the way the newspaper crinkles under my hands, though that’s the only outward sign of my emotions.

When I finish reading, I rip the paper in half, tossing the pieces at his feet. “You think that scares me?” I ask, using years of training by Tennant’s side to keep my voice level, while not allowing my raging emotions to bleed through.

He shrugs. “I warned you… Your precious Families are going down. Your father-in-law? There was just enough of his body left to be identified… Your husband?” He grins, transforming his bland features into something ugly. “According to my sources, they’ve found his blood…but not him, though it’s still early in the processing; I’m sure his body will turn up soon.”

With that little tidbit, he walks out, the goons following. As soon as the door shuts behind them, I snap.

Picking up one of the bowls of dog food, I toss it as hard as I can at the door, enjoying the way it bounces off the metal, the sound of it cracking, and the rain of kibble falling everywhere.

I pace around my small area, the manacle around my ankle pissing me off more than ever. Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I watch Allesandro hold the torn paper side by side to read the stupid article.

“That dig about Carter…” he says quietly.

“It was his father’s house they attacked,” I growl, not bothering to lower my voice. The bastard knows what he did, so there’s no point in hiding it. “It wouldn’t be far-fetched to assume he was there.” Lowering my voice, while being careful to not look at the camera, I explain, “They’re estranged, but Carter has done an excellent job of mindfucking his father since he took control of the De Lucas from him. Georgio is nothing but a waste of space, yet he’s been useful due to his knowledge of the past and his connections.

“The De Lucas are ours, especially after we squashed their last rebellion. We don’t need him anymore, but my husband is petty enough to keep Georgio alive—for now.”

Curling my fingers into my palm, I relish in the sting. My skin itches for a knife slicing into it, and my husband’s hard body over mine.

The want for pleasure-pain has never been so prominent, but in this moment, I want to hold on to any good thing I can—and giving myself over to Carter’s blade, trusting him with the very blood in my veins, is the only thing I want right now.

“He could be bluffing.” Allesandro stands and reaches out for me, stopping my pacing. The contact is a much-needed balm.

He shuffles as close to me as his chain will allow, and I meet him halfway, not wanting him to let go. He moves his hand to my shoulder, squeezing hard enough to make a lesser man wince. “Do not give them the satisfaction of thinking they have you,” he whispers.

I tilt my head a little, letting a grin form on my lips. “Oh, they have me all right,” I reply. “Just not in the way they think.” I meet his stare head on. “Mi dispiace, my friend, but things might become a little uncomfortable here.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Remind them of who I am. They want to play games? Then let's play. I learned from the best—and the best has never lost.”

It was amusing at first, but now? It's personal. Maybe Tennant will get here in time to play with me, if not, his loss. It's time to show them why we sit at the helm—it’s not just because we have the biggest dicks, though that helps.

They can take all my fingers for all I care. They touched what they shouldn't have. And they will learn why that was a very bad idea.