Page 41 of Thorns of Death

At least I’d had a taste of freedom. Until now.

I made my way up the stairs to go check on Donatella. She hadn’t gotten out of bed since we brought her home. She was still angry and bitter at not being allowed to be free. Since the world now believed her to be dead, we couldn’t risk her exposure. Her growing belly gave her the excuse for locking herself away in her room, although I suspected it was a pretense. She didn’t truly care. Something about her apathy rubbed me the wrong way.

In front of Donatella’s bedroom, I stopped and listened. The pitch of a woman’s voice. Struggling cries from a baby that was turning into high-pitched screams by the second.

I pushed on the door, but it was locked. So I kicked it open. It smashed against the wall behind it with a loud thud.

Fury slithered through my veins at the sight before me. Donatella, heavily pregnant, held infant Enzo by his feet, dangling him off the balcony.

Her eyes, hazed with hate and full of madness, darted to me. For a second, neither one of us moved.

Then fury roared through me. I lunged for her and wrapped my arm around her rib cage—above her belly to ensure I didn’t hurt the baby. Her grip on the baby’s small feet loosened and she let go.

My free hand shot out and caught him, scooping him up and holding him like a football. Thank fuck he was nine months old, or his neck would have snapped.

Donatella shrieked, struggling in my hold. “No! Die, die, die! He has to die.”

She thrashed, unhinged madness in her eyes. She reached for the gun secured in my holster and I had to jam my elbow into her ribs.

“Let me go,” she shrieked, kicking her feet and her legs, uncaring if she hit the baby in my arms. I was tempted to headbutt her to shut her up. Enzo’s screams increased in volume, probably sensing my fear.

“Stop screaming and kicking,” I growled. “You’re scaring Enzo.”

She didn’t care, continuing to fight against me. Hammering against my chest. Again, she tried for my gun.

“I’ll kill the child in my womb.”

I froze, my eyes narrowing on her and seeing her—really seeing her—for the first time. Something crazy in the depths of her eyes that was rooted in her soul.

“Che cazzo.” Manuel’s voice came from the door and my gaze found him.

“Take the baby,” I barked.

He didn’t hesitate, prowling through the room and taking little Enzo from me. I wrapped both my hands around her and dragged her to the old radiator, which was left over from the old days when the castello was first built.

Without looking behind me, I said, “Give me your handcuffs.”

He threw them my way and I shackled both her hands before grabbing the rope hanging from the curtain and tied her to the radiator.

“I won’t allow you to hurt the baby in your belly,” I growled, a red mist taking over my vision. “Consider yourself lucky you are Enzo’s mother and have that baby in your belly.” I took her chin between my fingers, gripping it tightly, ensuring she met my eyes. I let her see all the darkness swirling inside my soul. “Or I would have sliced your throat already.”

It was what finally got through to her, and she stilled.

That had been the last straw. I had to have her committed to a private institution known for their discretion, but throughout the years, I’d tried to help her build a connection with the boys. Why didn’t I kill her after I let the world believe she died right alongside my brother? I’d wondered that many times over the years. Maybe there was some shred of decency left in me, although it started to feel like it was for naught. I had her thought dead to protect her, and it turned out we all needed protection from her crazy ass. “I sent for them and will keep them with me until we can eliminate the threat.”

They were at home, attending school within the bounds of my territory with teachers and principals that were on my payroll. My zia, who lived with us full-time, watched over them along with my most trustedsoldati. Zia Ludovica was my mother’s sister, and after her husband passed away, I took her in. It helped that her cooking skills were incomparable. She fed us and we took care of her. That was what family was for.

“That might be best,” he agreed.

“You just ensure Isla is safe. Keep our most trusted men on her.”

He scratched his chin pensively.

“Kingston might be best for that.” I didn’t like it. Kingston was a good-looking guy. Younger than me. Shit, this jealousy when it came to the wild woman would be the death of me. As if sensing my thoughts, he added, “He won’t be interested in her. They’ll never even meet.”

“Fine,” I conceded. Isla’s safety was of the utmost importance. “Put him on her. Money is no object.”

Silence followed while a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach warned of a shitstorm brewing. There were too many moving parts. Way too many unknowns. But none of it mattered.