***ZANE’S POV***
“Is there anyone you want dead, Zane? I run this territory, if any son of a bitch is a problem to you, I can find a good way to put a bullet between their eyes,” Don Russell says.
I chuckle lightly. The sound was butter, it was the sound of a man who was contemplating murder.
I don’t know the number of times I have to make it plain to London not to give advances at men, or to indulge them, but fuck that, it seems like my little girl has a magnet for trouble.
Oh! And a hot lot.
But Michael Logan, I swear, that was the last name I expected to hear when I picked up that phone call earlier.
“There is nothing I can’t handle, Russell,” I tell him.
“Your wife,” Rio says.
I shoot him a deadly glare and he throws his hands in the air as if trying to placate me.
After I had locked London in my bedroom, I made sure to position two guards in front of the door, there was no way my treacherous wife was leaving me for whatever means.
Russell had called us to his office and this meeting is only pissing me off.
“So, you know who wants your wife then?” Alex asks his eyes studying me.
“Yes, I do. I noticed I had a deleted message. Probably, London had used my number to send a message to him. I called the number and the bastard responded,” I reply.
“Do you know the cocky bastard?” Russell asks pushing close to his desk, waiting for my reply.
“He met my wife when we went to an eatery, I was out taking a business call, I would have killed him that day. Because he just seems to want my wife, to talk to her…” I stay calm frowning deeply.
“Who is he?” Rio asks.
“Michael Logan,” I reply.
The room grows silent. I look at them wondering what must be going on in their heads.
“It is not you they are after, Zane Vincenzo. Where is your wife at this moment?” Rio asks standing and drawing his gun out.
I pulled mine from my holster, my ears on alert as I looked at them.
What do they know that I don’t?
“I locked her in our room, two guards are there now. What is going on?” I urge them to reply.
Alex is the one who replies to me.
“Michael Logan’s father worked for us a few years ago. He was killed by Russell when he betrayed us to the Russian Bratvas,” he explains.
I feel cold running down my spine.
“Why wait all these years to attack? Why now? Why is London the catch?” I ask as I start loading my gun.
Russell turns around the desk, striding towards the door.
“You didn’t know about him, if Michael has done his homework, he knows who you are. An as a Vincenzo, that puts a target on you. And your wife is as innocent and a good way to reach to you,” he mutters.
Anger started pressing through my features, I was halfway out the door now.
“If that bastard had done his homework, he would know better not to mess with me. Especially not my wife,” I bark out as I rush to my room.
The guards are still there and I nod to them, as I open the door, sliding inside.
I expect to hear a crying London cussing at me. I heard the number of cusses she threw at me thinking I would punish her.
She wished.
When the room is calm, I turn around staring at the empty space. I feel perspiration starting to run down my forehead.
“London?” I call out checking the bathroom and then, the closet. She wasn’t there.
The guards heard me calling out and they entered, I noticed my cousins behind them. One look we share and I know I have fucked up badly.
“Tell me, guys, who let my wife out of the room? My instructions were clear, not to open the door no matter how much she begs,” I huff out.
“No one came out of this room,” they reply in unison.
My eyes widen in alarm as I say, “Do not fucking give me that reply, a girl doesn’t disappear…”
I was yelling at them.
“Zane? Come and get a look at this,” I hear Rio call out to me.
His voice was coming from the balcony, and I went to it.
“What?”
I stop when I see the thick bedsheets falling down the balcony.
“What the fuck?” I cried out looking downstairs.
What did I say about this woman being the dead of me?
“She probably didn’t use the door,” I turned to Russell but he wasn’t close to the balcony.
Rushing to him, I see a piece of paper in his hands.
“I guess your wife left you a note, how carrying,” he teases.
I read the note London left for me and shivers ran down my spine.
“What the holy fuck? She left to look for another Daddy?” I squeezed the paper knowing so damn well that London had written this note and she meant it.
I knew who she was meeting as well.
Michael Logan is in Sicily. I bet he wouldn’t be leaving it alive. The thought of making him pay makes me feel alive.
“Call your men, tell them to lock the city and to search every hole for my wife,” I tell Russell.
Whenever I set my hands on that bastard, he would be having it hot.
As Russell finishes making a call, I hear the women screaming heavily downstairs. Panic gets to my heart for the first time.
Real fear gets into my soul.
“Shit! Shit!” I groan as we make it to the first floor, my eyes staring around the room, our guns pulled out and ready to shout.
Casey was crying when we spotted them and Mia was calming her down.
“What is going on here?” Rio asks.
Cecily makes her way to him, throwing her arms around his neck, and breaks down in tears.
Damn it.
“Can someone tell me?” Russell ask.
“There has just been an accident on the east side of town,” Mia explains pointing to the TV.
“So?” Alex urges her to continue.
My fear was now on my tongue, I could taste it. Grabbing the remote control, I flipped the channels to the news station and increased the volume.
The journalist was rambling off.
“There has been an accident involving a blonde-headed lady in a Mustang. The car had ended up upside down and suspended against the tree when the police got there. Only one passenger was in the car and it was a lady,”
“Who?” I literally screamed without thinking.
A dashing image of the accident was shown and the police had marked the area.
They said the casualty was a woman. London didn’t know how to drive well. Who drove the car then?
The reporter had said a passenger. Not a driver. Whatever I wanted to ask was ripped short when an image of London appeared on the screen. She looked damaged. I noticed her hair and that lovely dress she had ordered the other day.
“The casualty of the accident is undergoing treatment at Brighton Hospital. We don’t know if she would survive, but her family must get to her since she wasn’t seen with any identification papers,”
The sounds in the room were blurred to my ears, I didn’t hear any more of what the journalist was saying. A bruised picture of London was still on the screen. Her face was good looking if not for the gash on her head, tainting her hair red.
“Zane? come on, Zane, you need to get a grip of yourself, your wife needs you,” Alexandro screams out slapping my face.
I couldn’t feel anything. Grieve, that was what I was experiencing right now.
“I need her more than she needs me,” I feel hot tears streaming down my cheeks.
No one is ever supposed to see me cry, but these aren’t tears of weakness, it is just to show how vulnerable my wife makes me feel.
“Zane! We need to go to the hospital,” Russell says. I felt so weak, my body heavy for me to lift.
“I want Logan dead,” I spit out angrily.
“He will die by your hands, Zane, but you need to man up now. We are leaving for the hospital,” Russell points out.
The hospital, sure. I had to go to the hospital, where my wife is.
What was she doing on the East side of Sicily? I wondered. There were only the port and warehouses there. No infrastructure was there.
Right now, I couldn’t think properly.
“Can you walk? Or should I knock you off for some time?” Rio asks coming towards me.
“Unless you value your hands, you better keep them to yourself,” I blurt out.
He stays away from me, and I am grateful.
**
The moment we pulled into Brighton Hospital, I made it into the double doors and went straight to the receptionist.
“My wife!” I say bluntly.
Everyone was behind me, all of the guards Russell could get his hands on were with us. Reaper and Sinner stayed at a respectful distance.
“Excuse me, Sir, you will need to give me your name and that of your wife,” the receptionist says politely.
“Zane Vincenzo. My wife was brought in from the accident at the East Sicily,” I explain.
Her eyes widen in shock and I know that look there.
“You will have to wait, Sir. Your wide is undergoing a ten-hour-long surgery to save her life. It is life-threatening,” she says tapping into the computer.
“Life threatening?” the words leave my lips before I slide back to my knees.
I grab my head as pain shoots through me. That woman is carrying my baby. She is my wife and I love her.
She is my woman, I want her.
I don’t know who grabs me but I punch the person hard.
“Ouff!” I hear Sinner’s voice.
I feel bad for hitting him, but he will know when to leave me alone.
“You need to calm down, Zane. You need a clear head,” Alex says.
“The only head I need is Michael’s head. That fucking bastard. He will know never to mess with me,” I blurt out.
I don’t cover an eye throughout that time. I am aware of all the sounds that are being made. The women return to the house and the men try to convince me to go home for a rest but I decline.
The red light dimming on the end of that blocked hallway meant one thing, London was getting stitched up so badly.
I beat myself up mentally, fighting how I took things in a nonsense way, I feel my chest tighten up.
London.
Was she going to seriously look for a new Daddy? What the fuck wouldn’t I give to her? She had my heart already. I was hers, but the problem is was she mine?
She had said a few times that I owned her, that she belonged to me, but she kept running away, and I was left with bruised emotions.
I was so immense in my world that I didn’t see Rio until he was in front of me.
“Hey!” he calls out.
I grit out a reply softly, and he hands me a cup of coffee. I sip it and it helps me.
“Russell and I will be there for the shipment. Axel will look out for the police while you stay here with your woman,” he explains.
I did not my head in understanding. Our program was fucked up and I wonder if this was Michael’s plan.
How much does he know about the Vincenzos? I wondered.
He sure as hell knew much to plot his plan, but my wife wasn’t part of his deal, and unless he wanted more, I would have my gun in his neck and watch with pleasure while he chokes on his blood.
The bastard.