Chapter 21 Domenico
Domenico
Ibarely get the car in park before I'm running.
Cold air slaps me in the face, but I don't feel it.
I don't feel anything except for the text message from Besiana burning a hole in my pocket.
I should have known this would happen. I should never have let her leave my side.
I'm an idiot for thinking Adrian could be trusted, even for a day.
The front gates are wide open but guarded like a fortress. The men in black hardly flinch as I charge past them, bellowing, “Where is she?” like a madman.
They know exactly who I'm talking about.
“Back courtyard,” one of them stammers.
The cold bites harder, but I shake it off. All I see in my mind is Besiana, alone with Adrian and his men, and the fear churns inside me like poison.
I veer to the right, sprinting past a row of tall windows, and when I round the corner, I see her. On the other side of the stone fountain. One of Adrian's men is holding her by the arm. I can see the pressure of his fingers, squeezing through her coat.
I cut across the garden, moving like a bullet.
I'm halfway there when I see the guard's face, cruel and ugly, tight with the arrogance of someone who thinks he can get away with this.
The wind is sharp, cutting through my clothes, but I don't feel it.
I don't feel anything except the rage pounding in my chest, matching every step as I close the distance.
Besiana is completely still, but I know her well enough to see the tension in her shoulders, the way her mouth sets in a hard line.
I don't stop until I'm right there, until the gravel crunches to a halt under my shoes.
And then the guard makes the mistake of looking at me.
He's dead before his eyes can widen. The knife slides easily into him, right under his ribs, and he's on the ground before he realizes what happened.
I pull the blade out and let his body fall.
Blood soaks into the gravel. My pulse is steady now, every part of me focused and ice-cold.
The way I was trained to be. I shove the knife back under my jacket, where it belongs.
Adrian should know better than to let his men put their hands on my wife.
More guards swarm in, closing the distance with guns drawn.
I am alone, but my guys should be here soon.
But I don't back down. I never back down, especially when Besiana's safety is at stake.
I square my shoulders, taking one last glance at the dead man at my feet.
Gravel crunches as they close in, my pulse strangely calm.
The first guard thinks twice and hesitates.
He stops just out of reach, fear on his face, and suddenly they're all stopping, every last one of them freezing as Adrian Dushku gives them a signal.
He stands behind the fountain, a hand raised. He watches us with eyes like a corpse, gray and lifeless. The guards are still on edge, their guns twitching toward me, but they don't move. Adrian drops his hand and cuts through them, stopping when he's close enough to speak.
"Interesting approach," he says.
I don't bother with a response. There's nothing I need to say to this man. Not right now, when I'm more concerned with making sure Besiana is unharmed.
I turn away from him and grab her by the shoulders, not as gentle as I should be.
She has no marks on her, and I try not to imagine how many there would have been if I hadn't gotten here this fast. She glares up at me, pale green eyes cold, but I can see the crack under the ice, the crack no one else gets to see.
It's the only sign that she's relieved to see me.
"Are you hurt?" I ask.
"You came," she says, avoiding the question, but I don’t see any injuries.
"You shouldn’t have come alone," I say.
She sets her jaw and says nothing, flicking her gaze past me to the body on the ground.
The corpse. My fingers clench on her shoulder.
I don't care how cold she tries to be; if she'd waited another minute, she would have found out just how much damage her father could do.
That particular conversation can wait until later.
I glance at Adrian, trying not to let him see the rage boiling inside me. "She’s your own daughter," I say. “Why exactly did your man have his hands on her?”
Adrian shrugs. “Why does any man put his hands on a woman?”
Jealousy flares inside me, but I tamp it down. I know this monster is trying to get a rise out of me. But I'm going to make him regret it. I'm going to make him regret every goddamn word.
Instead of cracking his neck with my fists, I stay quiet and let him talk, let him think he's the one with the upper hand. I force myself to stand still, to play this carefully.
How dare Adrian treat his daughter so poorly? How dare he?
I look into Besiana's eyes, reassured by their fierce resolve. She was a queen, even in the face of danger. Her mother's dagger always ready at her waist.
"Go," I tell her softly, pushing my anger aside for a moment. "Get out of here."
"I'm not leaving you alone with him," she says stubbornly, her voice a whisper against the chill wind.
"You have to trust me, Besa," I tell her, giving her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.
Her gaze flickers between mine and Adrian's before she finally nods. She takes one last look at the fallen guard, then turns to leave.
Adrian calls out to her retreating back. "Tradhtia nuk te falet, vajze. As nga une, as nga bota."
He's watching his daughter as she walks away, his grey eyes chillingly devoid of any fatherly love or concern. Probably shouting out a threat. It sickens me.
When she’s safely gone, I turn back to her father and lean in, my voice barely a whisper. "You've made a grave mistake, Adrian. You see, I don't give a damn about cartel politics or codes of conduct. All I care about is my wife's safety. Touch her again, and you're dead, old man."
Adrian's lips twitch into a ghost of a smile. "Big words from a man outnumbered."
I straighten up and let my gaze wander to his men holstered with guns. Then turn back to Adrian and shrug nonchalantly. "Numbers mean nothing if you're not alive to count them."
The silence hangs heavy between us, the underlying threat clear as day. A chill sweeps across the courtyard, rustling fallen leaves the color of blood.
He leans back against the cold stone of the fountain, crossing his arms over his chest. His gray eyes bore into mine.
"Rosetti," he drawls out, every syllable dripping with disdain. "You've always been a thorn in my side."
"Likewise," I retort, keeping my voice flat and unemotional. He doesn't need to know the depth of my hatred for him, nor the lengths I would go to protect Besiana from him.
Adrian pushes off the fountain. "Thorns can be easily removed," he says, his eyes still locked with mine.
Before I can reply, there's the sudden noise of steps behind me. A quick glance confirms it — my men are finally here. Their arrival cuts the tension, their faces hardened and hands gripping their weapons tightly.
Adrian's gaze flickers towards them before landing back on me. His lips twitch into a more noticeable smile this time. It doesn't reach his eyes.
With one last lingering look, he turns away from me and walks back towards his men. His soldiers part to let him through, their eyes still trained on me warily. I watch them retreat into the mansion, a sense of unease gnawing in my gut. This fight is far from over.
"Any problems?" one of my men, Terzo, asks as he approaches. He's a giant of a man, with shoulders like a bull and hands that could easily wrap around someone's throat.
"Just something I needed to deal with," I reply, jerking my chin towards the body still sprawled across the gravel.
Terzo frowns, his dark eyes scanning the courtyard. "You're sure you're okay?" He knows better than to ask about Besiana. He knows if anything had happened to her, there'd be a lot more bodies on the ground.
"Just get here faster next time," I spit out.
My gaze strays to where Besiana disappeared down the driveway. I need to see her again.
When I reach the car, I find Besiana leaning against it, flanked by two of my men.
They move aside when I approach, and I push Besiana into the SUV, glancing back at the estate, at the guards and the shadows.
My pulse quickens again, not with fear, but with the pure need to protect her. I have to get her out of here.
Besiana watches me through the window, eyes unreadable. She's always been like this, even before the marriage, always acting like she doesn't care whether she lives or dies. I take a deep breath and circle around to the driver's side, shaking off the cold before it can settle in.
I climb into the car, and she breaks the silence.
"You know you're insane, right? You can’t threaten my father," she says.
I grunt, trying to reassure her. "He's not touching you again," I say, my words leaving no room for argument. Her safety means more to me than any turf war or blood feud. Adrian’s mistake was thinking I wouldn’t come for her, that I value my life more than hers.
“He’ll kill you,” she says.
A breath hisses through my teeth. She's right to be scared, but she's wrong if she thinks I'm just going to roll over and let it happen. "Have you forgotten who I am?" I turn to her, my eyes locked on hers to make sure she gets it. "Rosettis are hunters, not prey."
Before she can argue back, I turn the key and peel away from the curb, keeping my eyes on the road, not trusting myself to look at her. She's going to be the death of me. Maybe literally.