Page 143 of Thorns of Death

Emotions I had buried deep within me for decades rose to the surface. Faces of my murdered mother and brother. Stories of a murdered grandmother. Five generationsand counting.

“How in the fuck did this happen!” I screamed. “Get me the fuck home.”

I returned my attention to the guy in front of me. He didn’t know anything because he was fucking bait. And we fell for it. I pulled out my gun, put it to his skull, and pulled the fucking trigger.

The ride back home was tense. It felt longer than a flight around the world. Nobody spoke.

Once home, I pulled out the surveillance footage. I watched her struggling against Donatella and Giulio. Watched them as they put their hands onmy wife.

“Fuck!” I bellowed, my fist flying through the air and punching the wall. The stone barely budged, but the pain in my knuckles burned. “Fuuuuuck!”

I couldn’t think, the anger so swift and violent it stole my fucking breath away. With a roar, I swiped all the electronics off the desk, pushing them onto the floor where they cracked and smashed to pieces. From the corner of my eye I saw my sons entering the room, but I was too busy flipping the desk over with both hands and hurling the chair across the room. The glass frames shattered.

My eyes landed on the chair where she’d straddled me when I got the call and I lunged for it, throwing it against the door.

I was hell-bent on destroying everything in my path.

The woman I loved was taken. My wife. My love.My life.

I shouldn’t have left her. I should have protected her. I shoved my hand in my hair, pulling tightly on the strands. I felt like I was coming apart at the seams. I had to get her back, or there’d be nothing but pieces left.

The office door opened and Manuel and I drew our guns. Then I reached for my sons and shoved them behind me.

Konstantin stood at the door with his right-hand man, Boris.

“Where in thefuckis my sister?”

Manuel lowered his gun, but I kept mine trained on my bride’s brother. I wanted to lash out. Rage. Destroy.

Yet, I knew none of it would ease this pain. Because I was to blame. I had put her on Donatella’s radar. I had failed to identify the mole. I had failed her.

Please, Dio mio. Don’t take her from me. Please, take me and let her live.

Losing Isla would break me. I knew it. Donatella knew it. The world knew it.

“Papà, is that Isla’s brother?” Enzo broke the silence, drawing Konstantin’s gaze to him.

The haze slowly began to clear, urging me to think once again. I straightened my cuffs, my hands trembling. The image of my wife mere hours ago in this same office played in my mind.

“Sì,figlio mio.”

“Where is my sister?” he repeated.

“She was taken,” Manuel answered vaguely.

“Giulio, our guard, is a traitor,” Amadeo hissed. “He and—” His words faltered, knowing he could never share that his mother was alive. “He took her.”

“He and who?” her brother growled. “Tell me now or I swear to God, I’ll burn this fucking place to the ground.”

I checked my watch, then flicked a glance to Manuel. “We’ll need Kingston. Kian too. Hack into city surveillance. Follow whatever car they arrived in.”

Manuel glanced at the smashed laptop and the equipment all over the floor, but to his credit he didn’t say anything, he simply called one of our IT guys and had them bring him brand-new gear.

“Enzo, Amadeo,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes with my fingers. “You two go into the safe room until we figure out how the enemy gained entry to the grounds.”

“But—”

“No buts.” I kept my voice firm. “I can’t worry about your safety and your mother’s.”