Chapter Ten
Lorenzo
I manage to do a thirty-minute drive in ten. I do not know how. I do not remember the road, the lights, or the cars I flew past. The only thing I know is this: if I do not see her in the next five minutes, something inside me will snap beyond repair.
I burst through the gates the second he told me he has her. Luciano. The old bastard I should have gutted months ago. How did I not see it? How did I not see the danger in plain sight? I feel my skull pulsing with pressure, like my brain is trying to claw its way out of my head.
Once I take her out of here, I am burning this place to the ground.
Once she is safe in my arms, every breath Luciano ever takes will be taken in pain.
No one hurts her.
No one touches her.
No one takes her from me.
I park in front of the mansion without even stopping the engine. The car door is still open behind me as I sprint to the entrance. I knock once. The second knock would have broken the door clean off its hinges.
An old woman opens it immediately. Small, fragile, probably sixty. I brush past her without a thought, but then I realize I have no idea where the fuck I am going.
“Where is Luciano?” I ask, my voice low and deadly.
She hesitates. She makes the mistake of looking into my eyes. Whatever she sees there convinces her this is not a fight she can survive.
“Don Luciano is in his office,” she whispers. “Upstairs. Second door on the left.”
I take the stairs two at a time. My breath is ragged. My chest feels tight, like I swallowed fire and it is burning its way out.
I shove the office door open so hard it slams into the wall. I step inside and shut it behind me with enough force to make the frame shake.
“Where is she?” I ask.
Luciano sits at his desk like he has any authority left. He tries to look calm, but his shoulders are stiff. His fingers twitch. He knows he fucked up.
“Lorenzo,” he starts, voice steady but eyes frantic. “Please, take a seat.”
“Luciano,” I say as I walk toward him, my composure so steady it borders on inhuman. I stop just close enough to invade his space. “If you don’t tell me where she is, you’ll spend the rest of your life learning how to navigate the world from a wheelchair.”
He signals to his guards. Four men step forward. He thinks they will intimidate me.
Cute.
I smirk.
“Before bringing Serena, I want to discuss the terms of her release,” he says.
“It is funny how you think you are still in control,” I growl, stepping closer. My voice drops lower, colder. “We will discuss my terms after I see her. After I make sure she is alive.”
Luciano stiffens. “I am afraid that is not possib—”
I shoot the guard on his left in the head. His skull snaps back and collapses on the floor with a thud.
The second guard lunges at me. I blow his brains out before he even reaches me.
Two bodies. Two reminders that I am not here to negotiate.
“Stop!” Luciano shouts at his remaining guards, then at me. His voice cracks. He finally understands.
“Changed your mind?” I ask, mocking him.
“Fine.” He swallows hard. “I will bring her. But you must give me your word that once she is here, we will discuss the terms.”
“Of course,” I lie. The easiest lie I have ever told. “I will listen to anything you have to say.”
I lean in. “If she is safe and sound.”
My eyes narrow. “If she is not, then you are a dead man speaking.”
Luciano picks up his phone and texts someone. His hand shakes slightly.
“She is on her way here,” he says.
My heart slams against my ribs so violently I feel lightheaded. Three months. Three months since I last saw her face. Since I touched her. Kissed her. Three months of hell.
I walk to the sofa in the corner. My hands tremble as I pull out a cigarette. I light it and inhale deeply, trying to control the storm inside me. My leg bounces uncontrollably. My fingers twitch. I feel like my skin is stretched too tight over something barely contained.
“Does anyone know you are here?” Luciano asks.
“Luciano,” I say, voice calm as I exhale a thin stream of smoke. “Andres tracks men with armies and nuclear codes.” My expression doesn’t change. “You think you’re harder to find?”
Luciano goes rigid.
The door opens.
My heart stops.
My breath cuts out of my lungs.
For a second, I genuinely think I am going to collapse.
Because after three months of madness, nightmares, and rage, she is finally going to walk through that door.
“Let her in,” Luciano says, and the man at the door steps aside.
I cannot see her face at first. Only her back. Small. Fragile. Wrapped in a long dress and a cardigan that looks too big for her. She takes hesitant steps into the room, then stops in the center and looks around like she does not recognize the world.
My body moves on instinct. I rise from the sofa because I want to go to her. I want to grab her. I want to pull her into my arms and press my face into her neck and feel her breathe against me. But something in me stops.
Because instead of looking for me, she walks straight to the window.
She stares at the snow like it is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. And maybe it is. She disappeared at the end of summer. She has been held captive for three months. Does she even know how much time passed? How long she has been gone? What they did to her?
My breathing turns uneven. My hands shake.
She turns away from the window.
Her eyes meet mine.
And I freeze.
It is her.
But not the Serena I lost.
Her face is thinner.
Her eyes look empty and tired.
Her skin is pale.
Her posture is weak.
But still, she is the most beautiful thing I have seen in three months.
I drop the cigarette and crush it into Luciano’s carpet. I do not care that it burns a hole into it. I do not care that ash sticks to my shoe. I cannot look away from her.
Then my gaze falls lower.
And my world stops.
Her belly.
Her belly is swollen. Round. Full.
My heart cracks so violently it feels like something has been ripped out of my chest. The air leaves my lungs in one violent rush. My hands tremble uncontrollably as I stare at her, unable to process the image in front of me.
Serena is pregnant.