Marcello
I know something is wrong as soon as Gabrielle and five of my men crowd into my office on the yacht. We have dropped anchor off the coast of Napoli, not far from Marco’s beach house.
“Marcello,” Gabrielle says in his most reasonable tone. “You should sit.”
“Tell me,” I bark, remaining on my feet.
“A message has come in from Marco,” Gabrielle says. “It’s bad.”
I appreciate his directness, but my gut cramps all the same. What has he done to her? If he has hurt her, I will bomb the entire Gulf of Napoli, skull fuck his corpse, then go after his wife and children. “Show me.”
Gabrielle hands me the phone and I freeze. My glorious girl is on her knees, her face covered in tears while a Glock was shoved in her mouth. Marco has her restrained, ropes crossing her body, under her breasts, and I can see the terror in her eyes.
A red mist coats my brain.
I can’t think, the anger so swift and so violent that I throw the phone across the room, where it cracks open against the wall. With a roar, I flip the desk over with both hands, papers flying and my laptop sliding to the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I see Gabrielle ordering the soldiers out of the office, but I am too busy lifting a chair and hurling it across the room to care. I am a berserker, hell-bent on the destruction of everything in my path.
I tear the room apart. Break furniture, crack lamps. The framed pictures are thrown to the ground, where glass shatters. I cut my hand at one point but don’t stop. I can’t rid my brain of that image, the woman I love being mistreated. Tortured.
Because of me.
I caused this. I left her behind and made her a target for my enemies.
I shove my hands in my hair and pull hard on the strands, certain I am coming apart at the seams. I have to get her back. I have to get her back and rip the skin from Marco’s bones. Then I will somehow convince her to forgive me.
Please. God, please, do not take her from me.
I don’t know if I can survive it. Losing Elsa would break me.
The image of the gun in her mouth returns and I lunge for another chair, needing to throw it against the wall, Gabrielle is suddenly behind me. They hold me tight, even when I snarl and lunge like a wild dog.
“Marcello, basta,” my right-hand says. “Let’s work on getting her back.”
It takes a few minutes, but the haze slowly begins to clear and I can think once again. “I’m fine.”
Gabrielle finally releases me and I straighten my cuffs with trembling hands. “We go tonight.”
“Go tell them to be ready.”
Gabrielle gives me a pitying look that sets my teeth on edge. “Marcello, you should best prepare yourself for the worst. She is a liability and Marco-”
“She is not a liability, she is the woman I love, the woman who will mother the future generations of the Viscuso family. And Marco will keep her alive, if only to use her to torture me.” It is what I would do, after all. Gabrielle gives me a questioning look. I know it’s about how I had referred to Elsa but that’s the bare truth. She is the only woman in my life that I have ever been with and actually anticipated a future together. My future looks threateningly dark without her in it. She is my light in my dark world.
I should have told her how much I love her. I always got distracted and thought I still had a lot of time to tell her. I had to tell Marco I didn’t care so much about her because she is a mere hookup. I didn’t want to give him hope and pride for having her captive. But I had to say it when she could hear. I wonder what is thinking of me. She probably hates me. But I will apologize when I get her back and I hope she will be able to forgive me.
“Don’t worry about me. I will get her back no matter the consequences.”
“My job is to worry, remember? And with everything going on, it seems to be more than a full-time job.”
“You can take a vacation once we have Elsa back.”
“And leave you to deal with Marco by yourself? I don’t think so. Not to mention we need to learn about the cocaine theft. There is a lot going on right now and a vacation should be non-existent in my plans.”
“The yacht’s cameras must captured something we can use. Do you believe Vic’s story about the update?”
Vic had been on duty that afternoon, but he wasn’t a guard, per se. More like a computer hacker whiz. He has been in my crew for almost seven years, and had worked in my home for the last three. “You don’t believe Vic’s story about a security update?”
“It could be a coincidence, but I don’t like coincidences. And what of the others? Vic doesn’t work alone.”
I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes. “We’ll deal with that when we return-including discovering how Marco knew where to find Elsa.”
I have replayed the video of the masked man dumping Sal’s unconscious body a thousand times in my head. Something still bothered me about it. “Yes, but the man on the yacht. . . It was like he knew exactly where he was going.”
“Maybe.” Gabrielle exhales heavily. “We’ll get Marco to talk.”
Yes, we definitely will. “Is everything in place?”
“I hope you know what you are doing.”
I knew exactly what I am doing. I will save Elsa from that bastard if I had to burn the entire world down to do it.”