26. Massimo
Chapter 26
Massimo
S houting pulls my attention away from the emails I’m reviewing. I know my men can handle whatever it is, but the commotion goes on for longer than I expect, becoming louder as it moves from the driveway to the house.
Unholstering my weapon, I move with caution across the living room, pressing my back to the wall and peering out of the window. A sinking sensation fills me, and I abandon the idea of a sneak attack when I spot my SUV in the driveway. The same one that I sent Margot into the city in .
I cross the room, flinging the door open and stepping into the entryway. My nostrils flare and I prepare to tear into whichever bastard is responsible for whatever the fuck has happened.
Daniele walks through the front door. “Boss.” He heads toward the door that leads to the basement.
“What the fuck has happened, and where is Margot?”
Daniele faces me and I catch the hesitation that he isn’t quite quick enough to mask. “There was an attempted kidnapping?—”
I huff out a breath, turning away from him and balling my fists. Relief battles with rage in my chest, a volatile mix that threatens to suffocate me. How the fuck did this happen? Daniele’s word should be enough, but I find myself moving toward the stairs, certain she’ll have found solace in the library.
“We have one of the men.”
I halt and slowly turn to face him. “You could have led with that.” Looking over my shoulder at the top of the steps, I ask, “Is she okay?” I should be indifferent when it comes to her, but there’s an uncomfortable weight that settles on my chest at the notion that she’d come to harm. Margot has come to mean something to me, that much is clear, but I’m not sure I’m ready to unpack the extent of it.
“They never touched her. I think she’s stronger than any of us have given her credit for.”
Given the events of this past week, Margot’s strength is not something I feel the need to question. Not bothering to respond to his statement, I pass him as I head for the basement. Daniele follows behind me, his support unwavering.
The door closes behind us, each step I take down the dimly lit corridor drawing on the darkness within me. It seeps into my body until it’s consuming me and I don’t feel fully in control of myself. He’s going to tell me who sent them and then he will pay with his life.
The smell of urine and stale blood hangs in the air. It’s a familiar scent in this part of the house, a constant reminder of those who have tried to cross generations of my family.
At the nearest open cell, I find a man tied to the metal chair that is bolted to the floor. His eyes are covered by what I assume was the balaclava he wore to conceal his identity. It’s rolled up to reveal only the bridge of his nose and down creating a blindfold.
Daniele shuts and bolts the door before removing the mask. I watch the terror flare in the man’s gaze, the corner of my mouth lifting in a twisted smirk. He glances at his bound hands, attempting to free himself. The panic makes his movements jerky.
“Who sent you?” I demand, pushing away from the wall to circle him.
He lifts his chin before his face twists into an ugly sneer. There goes the fear I thrive on and in comes the ‘ fuck it ’ that makes this much less fun.
“Fuck you,” he spits, a slight accent to his tone. The silence builds, his insult hanging in the air.
Nodding, I approach him, my steps slow and languid as I roll up the sleeves of my shirt. “I take it, you know who I am?”
“Yes,” he snarls.
I move to the counter that runs along the wall opposite the door. An array of tools is laid out before me. I have my choice of torture device, but it’s the rusty spoon that draws my attention.
Turning back to him, I hold it up, and he laughs, the sound hollow but lacking the bravado I’m certain he meant. Closing the distance between us in less than a second, I grab a fistful of his hair and yank his head back.
“You think this is funny?” I snarl, pressing my cheek to his and bringing the spoon closer to his face. “Do you have any idea of what I am capable of?” I pause; the silence sitting heavy between us. “Well, you can multiply whatever you’re thinking by ten because you targeted her .”
He swallows, the fear returning to his eyes. Shoving his head away, I straighten, reining in the monster inside of me who’s begging to be freed. Not yet .
I toy with the spoon, picking up a blow torch and heating the rusted metal. My eyes are fixed on him, his fear feeding the monster inside of me. I need to find out who sent him, if I kill him without that information, Margot will never be safe. “I will ask you again. Who sent you?”
He doesn’t say a word, his eyes on the wall ahead of him.
Throwing the spoon onto the counter, I draw back my fist before slamming it into his cheek. Pain radiates through my knuckles, but it’s worth it to watch his head snap back and his eyes go glassy.
I lean down until my face is inches from his. “You came for my wife. Now tell me who sent you, or this will be your last conversation,” I bite, my frustration mounting by the second.
“Kill me if you want, but it won’t stop more from coming,” he spits.
Daniele steps forward, grabbing the guy's hair and forcing his head down. He yanks the collar of his sweater, revealing a tattoo. One I know all too well.
Fedeltà Eterna : Eternal Loyalty.
Elio Moretti . Which means, that despite having gone underground, he’s still making a play for my family. The tattoo is the brand his men receive when they join his ranks. It’s a reminder that every move they make is done with him at the forefront. He’s still making moves on us, and I have no doubt he planned to use Margot to get his way, just like he tried and failed with Aurora.
A sense of calm washes over me at the confirmation. I no longer have a use for this fucker. Returning to the counter, I retrieve the rusty spoon, rolling it between my fingers. “You might not want to tell me anything, but your ink has given me everything I need. I know who sent you and why.”
He twists in the chair, trying to look at us. With a subtle nod from me, Daniele steps forward, clamping his arm around the guy’s neck and holding him in a chokehold. I step in, brandishing the spoon. At the sight, he thrashes in Daniele’s hold, but with his limbs bound, there’s no escape.
Standing beside him, I bring the spoon to his eye, digging it into the inner corner. He cries out, bucking in the chair, but I just press deeper. A squelching pop reverberates around the room and his body goes limp as the spoon slides behind the back of his eyeball, fracturing the orbital bone.
His eye swings lazily at his cheekbone and his ragged breaths rattle in his throat. The sight of him does little to quell my anger. Watching him squirm might have felt like I was reclaiming a sliver of control, but in reality, he was just a pawn. It wasn’t enough . Nothing will be enough until Elio Moretti pays in blood.
Dropping the spoon onto the counter, I lock eyes with Daniele as he releases the man. “Finish him, get rid of his body and then meet me in my office. We need to strategize.”
“Yes, boss.”
I head back into the house, fury still coursing through my veins.
This is the first proper attack—or at least attempt at one—since we rescued Aurora from the warehouse. Do they think they’ll do more damage, or get what they want by going after Margot? It’s clear she’s their target now, and if that is the case, then Elio Moretti will pay.
I won’t rest until I’ve taken him, and every single one of his men out because she’s mine and nobody touches what’s mine.