Elsa
Marco jerks me closer and starts moving backward. “I’ve lost nothing. I still have your puttanella. I’ll kill her.”
Marcello prowls forward, his gun remaining trained on Marco. “You die either way.”
“Put down your gun or I’ll shoot her. Right fucking now!” Marco shakes me, his arm coming around my throat, and I gasp.
Something flashes on Marcello’s face at the sound, but he doesn’t take his gun off Marco. “I don’t think so. You are going to let her go.”
“Wrong, I’m going to keep her. I think I will let her watch as I kill you.”
“Gabrielle!” Marcello shouts, his voice echoing in the large space.
Gabrielle steps into the doorway, but he isn’t alone. He has a woman and a small boy. Their mouths are covered with duct tape, hands bound, eyes wide with fear. It looks as if they had been pulled out of their beds, with the kid still in pajamas. Gabrielle’s gun is aimed at the boy.
Marco goes perfectly still behind me. His voice is low and angry as he slowly says, “You dare to kidnap my family?”
My stomach sinks. Wives and children are supposed to be off limits. What has Marcello been thinking? Is he trying to get me killed?
“Drop your weapon and let her go,” Marcello growls. “I won’t ask you again. If you don’t, you know what will happen. I won’t hesitate, Rossi.”
The cool metal leave my temple and I see Marco lower the gun out of my peripheral vision. Then his arm loosens and he steps back. I am not certain what to do, so I stand there, waiting. Is this it? Am I really free?
Three soldiers hurry forward and quickly restrain Marco. Marco’s heir leans into his mother, who tries to curl her body around him, protecting them. My heart goes out to her. Someday, I will be that mother, protecting her child at the expense of her own safety. I would be crazy to let a mafia mobster be the father of my kids. No child deserves to suffer like this.
Marcello never takes his eyes off Marco. “Elsa, the car. Now.”
He thinks he could order me around? Has he lost his mind in the last days?
“Elsa,” he snaps when I don’t move.
I lift my chin and stare him down. “I’m not leaving until I know what you are planning.”
“That is not your concern. Go. Now.”
“What are you going to do, Marcello?”
“Cazzo,” he hisses. “Do as you are told. Get inside the car waiting out front.”
“If you are planning on killing this man in front of his baby boy, I will not allow it. Also, if you are planning on harming this child, I will not allow it.”
His lips thin as he steps over to me, right into my personal space. Broad shoulders and a wide chest fill my vision.
Leaning close, he says quietly into my ear, “You think to tell me what to do, dolcezza? That is not how this works, if you recall.”
My mouth dries out as the familiar tug between us roars to life, but I stand firm. He lost the right to call me dolcezza when he trashed our relationship on Marco’s car speaker. “This doesn’t work at all, if you recall. We’re done. So yes, I will tell you exactly what to do.”
Shockingly, the edge of his mouth lifts slightly. “I am glad to see being kidnapped has not crushed your spirit.”
“Maybe you Mafia’s just suck at kidnapping.”
He drags the back of a knuckle across my cheek. “Dio, I have missed you.”
I shove his hand away. “Don’t.”
His eyes lose their warmth, and it seems the temperature in the room drops by forty degrees. Stepping back, he says “We will discuss this later. Get in the fucking car.”
I don’t move, except to cross my arms over my chest.
Marco chuckles, which probably doesn’t help matters. Marcello storms over to the other don and punches him in the face. Marco’s head snaps sideways, but the soldiers keep him on his feet.
“Marcello, his family,” I hiss. No child should witness such brutality, even if their father deserves it. “Think about what you are doing for one goddamn minute.”
Marcello’s gaze cuts to me and we stare at each other for several beats. I don’t flinch. Women and children are off limits, period. Just because Marco broke that rule with me doesn’t mean Marcello should, too. He is a controlling asshole, but he respects tradition and rules. He knows Marco’s wife and child are innocent.
Cursing, Marcello grabs Marco’s hair and tilts his head back. Blood pours from Marco’s mouth but his eyes remain defiant. Moving in, Marcello speaks quietly, not loud enough for Marco’s family to hear, but I catch every word. “I am going to gut you like a fish and feed your entrails to the pigs on my estate.”
Marco spits on the ground at Marcello’s feet.
Gabrielle shakes his head, like he knows this will only make things worse. Marcello lifts his chin toward his soldiers. “Get him on the boat.”
Marco is dragged out of the beach house by the three soldiers. I go to the Rossi family and kneel in front of the child. “I know you’re scared,” I whisper. “But your mamma is here to protect you. Always.”
He doesn’t respond, just huddles closer to his mother, so I stand to face Marco’s wife. Reaching for the duct tape, I tell her, “This will hurt. I’m sorry.”
She nods and I rip the heavy tape off her mouth as quickly as possible. Surprisingly, she doesn’t make a sound, though I know from experience it hurts like holy hell. “Grazie,” she says. Somehow I know she means for not forcing her children to watch their father being brutally murdered.
I squeeze her bound hands. “Prego.”
Marcello orders Gabrielle to take the Rossi family outside, which leaves me alone with him. He tucks his pistol into his waistband at the small of his back and crosses his arms over his chest. “You are angry with me.”
I want to rail at him for asking such a stupid question, but honestly I am tired. “Actually, I’m over it. Just like I’m over you. Put me on a plane and send me back home. Now.”
“Never. I will not let you go.”
“Again, you mean. You will not let me go again. You gave your me away, you selfish asshole.”
The lines of his face sharpen, his cheekbones harsh slashes in the dim lighting. “You are mine, therefore I can decide whatever the fuck I want when it comes to you. I know you are angry but you will forgive me in time.”
He says this with such confidence, such arrogance, that I bark a laugh. “You are unbelievable. I am not yours. You confirmed that yourself on the phone. Have you forgotten?”
“I apologize. I should not have said that. I can explain. If I could go back, I would handle things differently.”
“I don’t want to handle any more bullshit with you Marcello. You hurt my feelings, Marcello. I can’t do this anymore.”
Out of the depths of the house, a soldier appears, a petrified Alessia at his side. “Don Marcello, what should we do with her?”
Alessia’s gaze meets mine and I can see her begging for help. Bitch, please. She has helped Marco at every turn. “Leave her,” I tell Marcello. “Without his money she will wither and die like an old prune.”
Marcello turns to the soldier. “You heard my woman. Leave her.”
My woman. I rolled my eyes. What a joke.
“Now,” he said, giving me his full attention. “Let’s return to the estate. The plane is waiting.”
“Fuck off, Marcello. I’m not your woman and I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Oh, he doesn’t like that one bit. His body seems to swell, anger coming off him waves. “I will tie you up, Elsa. I can force you to come with me.”
“Why should you bother? I’ll never sleep with you again and I’ll try to escape at every turn. It’s a waste of your time.”
“Never is a long time, dolcezza. Would you care to bet on that?”
Based on the way my heart is pounding right now, absolutely not. “If you don’t let me go, I will do everything I can to make your life a living hell.”
He closes the distance between us and wraps a large hand around my arm. “No need because I am already there. I have been since the moment I found out you were missing.”
While I am trying to make sense of that statement, he procures a pair of handcuffs from the pocket of his pants. Too late I realize what he is doing. In a flash he has a metal bracelet locked around my wrist, and he clapped the other around his own.
Great. Handcuffed to Marcello. How great indeed.