Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
M y eyes were fixed on Salvini and his friend across the restaurant. I’d chosen my seat wisely at the end of the bar, a lush, gigantic plant covering the direct line of sight between their table and my seat but not enough for me to not be able to catch glimpses of them.
They were laughing and joking around, so relaxed and at ease with each other, it was hard to reconcile this lighter side of Salvini with the cold, ruthless bully who had towered over me and tried to intimidate me.
Salvini’s friend was freaking gorgeous, but as much as I hated to admit it, Salvini was truly breathtaking—the body, the chiseled jawline, those piercing eyes, the confidence in every movement. And I wasn’t the only one in the restaurant who was checking the two men out—that’s how magnificent they looked.
I cast another glance. Even that stupid smirk of his was weirdly attractive in a rough, bad-boy kind of way.
Get it together, girl. This was Vincenzo freaking Salvini, remember? The guy was a total asshole.
On top of that, demanding my marriage to Matt in reparation for my uncle’s murder attempt of his brother.
What type of maniac did something like that?
Still, I couldn’t look away. There was something incredibly and uncomfortably fascinating about their interaction. They seemed like old friends, finishing each other’s sentences, leaning in close as they chatted. But at the same time, there was something more. They seemingly switched from talking to flirting and back. The image of Vince shaking his ass flashed through my inner eye for a split second. What if they really were lovers?
I shook my head, chastising myself. Don’t jump to conclusions. But, also, as comfortable and open as Salvini seemed, if his family was anything like mine, his father would probably ban him if he was in a relationship with a man, right?
And wouldn’t that be my way out? Sure enough, threatening his reputation would force him to at least back down, right?
My linguine arrived, but I barely noticed the waiter setting it down in front of me. “Thank you,” I murmured when I handed over my menu.
Suddenly, Vince rose from the booth, his tall frame unfolding with an easy grace.
Oh shit, he was heading this way! Did he discover me? Was he coming over because of me?
I quickly pulled back the menu, and the waiter stared at me as if I was borderline nuts.
“Sorry, I’ll need that a little longer,” I said, turned, and hid behind the menu, my heart pounding.
Don’t come over here; don’t come over here.
I made myself as small and insignificant as I could and even held my breath while I waited. Seconds stretched into insufferable long minutes while my mind raced to come up with some believable reason why I was here.
Meeting a friend? A sudden insatiable bout of craving for Italian food?
But the dreaded moment never came.
He strolled right past me without slowing down or hesitating.
Uff. After a few tense moments, I dared a glance over the top of the menu, right when he disappeared out of my line of sight and toward the restrooms.
Did he see me? Probably not. Because he wouldn’t just have ignored me. The opposite really.
A wave of relief washed over me, quickly replaced by nerves. What had I been thinking following him here? If he caught me…I didn’t even want to imagine.
Well, gauging based on our past confrontations, he probably wouldn’t leave it at a snide remark accompanied by a dismissive glance.
I froze as Vince came back a moment later, his tall frame moving with a fluid grace that was impossible to ignore. I stared down at my plate while panic gripped me—did he spot me?
My heart pounded in my ears as he started heading my way. I quickly shoved the bite on my fork into my mouth while at the same time tried to make myself as small as possible without attracting attention.
Don’t come over here; don’t come over here.
The seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly as I waited for the dreaded confrontation—with my mouth full of food because there was no way I could move my jaw.
When he didn’t show any sign of slowing down, I exhaled slowly, relief washing over me—until his shoulder grazed the back of my seat.
It was the barest whisper of contact, but it sent an electric shock down my spine as if I’d been electrocuted.
I stilled, then caught a fleeting whiff of his cologne—that unmistakable masculine scent that had somehow lodged itself into my subconscious. My entire body tensed, and my head spun.
He was so close, close enough that I could’ve reached out and touched him.
The thought made my heart skip a beat, a confusing rush of excitement combined with danger washing through me.
What was wrong with me?
Did he know I was here? Was this his way of letting me know he was aware of my presence?
Or was it pure coincidence?
I gripped the fork tighter, my knuckles turning white as I fought the urge to turn and look.
Every single one of my nerve endings suddenly felt hyperaware like the intensity of everything around me had suddenly amped up my senses.
At this rate, I would’ve been able to feel his gaze sliding over me even with my back turned.
That, or I was approaching early death caused by a heart attack.
What was I doing here, following him like some kind of obsessed stalker? This was reckless, foolish, and dangerous—and yet, the thrill of being so close to this man, who was both terrifying and intriguing, was utterly intoxicating.
Oh, man. What was I thinking?
This was pure madness.
I needed to leave.
But first…the pasta in my mouth was kinda blocking my airways.
I started chewing—working hard for every body part to come back to normal working function.
I forced myself to focus on my plate and shoveled the linguine into my mouth with determination. The quicker I finished, the sooner I could get out of here.
What a stupid idea this had been from the start.
Following Vince like some kind of secret agent? I must’ve temporarily lost my mind.
Get a grip, girl.
How realistic was it to find something to blackmail the head of the Salvini family by just following him around?
None. Zero. Zilch. That was how realistic it was.
My gaze flitted to my phone as I took another bite. And it wasn’t as if I didn’t have other, more pressing issues to deal with. There was still no response from Iset after my earlier text.
As if texting her hadn’t been nerve-wracking enough, now the wait was even worse. Didn’t she read the message or was she leaving me hanging like this on purpose?
Or wasn’t she able to respond? I straightened and sucked in air. What if something had happened to her? What if whoever acquired the list had already gotten to her?
Fuck.
The thought of her being in trouble made my stomach churn with worry.
No, stop it. You’re getting ahead of yourself.
She was probably just busy doing whatever she was doing.
She’d told me when we chatted a while ago that she got really laser-focused when working on something specific or if she found something new to obsess over.
The lack of a reply was making me anxious, though. I tapped out another message.
mee: everything good? radio silence is making me nervous over here.
I hit send, took another bite, and stared at my screen.
By now, she must think I was the lunatic and would have second thoughts if meeting me was such a good idea.
I chuckled.
Given I’d followed Vince Salvini into some random restaurant to get the dirt on him, she wouldn’t have been too far off in her assessment.
I started scrolling social media while stuffing my face with the food until I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.
I glanced toward Vince’s table.
Vince and his friend were deep in conversation, their body language relaxed and easy.
They really did seem close. The friend reached out and caressed Vince’s forehead—seemingly smoothing a frown line between his eyes.
They definitely weren’t afraid to flirt with each other or touch each other in public.
They really were giving off couple vibes.
I chuckled again. As if I, with my very limited/non-existent experience in the sex/love department, could really talk about any vibes.
And even if, it was none of my fucking business whatever preferences Vincenzo Salvini had in a partner.
Even if a part of me wanted to believe they were lovers, if only because it would somehow make Salvini a little less…intimidating—which, for some reason, I desperately needed.
Another part of me, the more rational side, knew I was deluding myself—grasping at straws in a misguided attempt to regain some semblance of control.
Because no matter his sexual orientation, Vincenzo Salvini was mean, dangerous, and a threat to my freedom.
Period.
And I couldn’t let my guard down, not even for a second. Not when there was so much at stake.
My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. Iset, finally.
Iset: Sorry, was in the middle of something. All good over here. Just laying low for a bit.
Relief washed over me as I read her message. At least she was okay.
Me: Glad to hear it. Was starting to worry. Let’s meet.
I hit send and took another bite of my rapidly cooling pasta, my appetite suddenly returning. I couldn’t keep getting distracted from Salvini, not when my real problem was this.
There was too much on the line.
I had to focus.
Had to figure out a way out of this mess before it was too late.
I glanced from the corner of my eye as Vince and his friend finally rose from their table and made their way toward the exit. Part of me wanted to follow, to see where they went next, maybe gather some useful intel. But the more rational part knew that would be pushing my luck. I’d already invaded his space enough for one day.
Also…focus on what’s important, stupid.
As they disappeared through the restaurant doors, I let out a long exhale, the tension seeping from my body. Trailing after Salvini had been an impulsive, reckless decision fueled more by desperation than logic. What had I been hoping to accomplish, exactly? Get pictures to use as blackmail material? The idea seemed laughable now.
I poked at the remains of my linguine, the noodles a congealed mess. I pushed the plate away and rested my elbows on the bar before I tapped my screen to see if Iset had replied, which she hadn’t.
I dropped my head into my hands, suddenly tired and overwhelmed by everything.
What was I supposed to do?
Was this how I thought embracing my inner badass would look like? Or was this just karma because of the hacking?
We’d never stolen from anyone who hadn’t earned their money and power through illegal means. And we didn’t take any of the money for ourselves—that must count for something, right?
And still, it had been wrong.
I should’ve really thought twice about what I was doing. I sighed, then straightened.
Enough with the pity party.
Every path forward seemed full of massive risk right now. But just hiding and hoping wasn’t an option either.
If worse came to worst, if my identity was revealed, I could lay low until I got my new ID—and starting over somewhere new with a clean slate had a certain kind of charm.
No family baggage, no crazy arranged marriage. The thought of leaving my dad and sisters behind caused a pang in my chest, but it might be the only way to keep myself and them truly safe.
I nodded at the waiter, then focused on my phone screen, scrolling through social media updates from friends back home. Several were in NYC, as well, for some big BJJ tournament happening tomorrow. Their posts radiated excitement over the competition.
I sent them good luck wishes and told them I might stop by to cheer them on for a while, and for a fleeting moment, I envied their simple lives.
No looming threats or dangerous dealings, no security detail, no family obligations. Just the thrill of stepping onto the mat and testing their skills. What I wouldn’t give for that kind of freedom and lack of complications weighing me down.
To just be...normal. Unburdened.
I paid for my food and slung my bag over my shoulder, letting out a long exhale as I walked toward the exit. I needed to call Fee and ask if she was still at the cafe and apologize for disappearing on her.
The moment I stepped out of the restaurant, I took a deep breath. The crisp, fresh air helped clear my head. Worrying about what might be wouldn’t help me one bit.
Before I could pull out my phone to call Fee, a hand clamped down hard on my arm, gripping me in a vice-like hold. I gasped and stumbled forward as someone yanked me towards a black SUV parked right in front of the restaurant.
I caught myself.
My heart slammed against my rib cage as panic surged through me. I whipped my head around. “What the?—?”
Before I could turn fully, a second set of hands grabbed my other arm, restraining me.
No. No, no, no!
A black hood was thrown over my head, plunging me into total darkness. My vision was gone, but my other senses kicked into high gear.
I thrashed wildly, brought my hands up, and clawed at the fabric.
I needed to see.
My elbow connected with something solid.
A muffled grunt sounded close by, followed by a sharp tug that nearly knocked me off balance.
Memories of those terrifying nights in Italy came crashing back like a tidal wave threatening to drown me.
The fear, the helplessness, the not knowing…
It couldn’t be happening again. Not like this!
I lashed out with everything I had as they tried to drag me forward. Kicked at anything within reach as I tried to break free. My foot connected with something, and for a second, the hand around my upper arm loosened before a sharp tug propelled me forward, and I slammed against something solid—the car?
I yanked again, tried to drop to the ground.
Instead, I was catapulted into the vehicle.
Alone.
I was completely alone this time.
No sisters, no Fee, no one to help me.
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, fueling my desperation. I had to fight, had to get out of here before they took me…wherever they planned on taking me.
I twisted and turned, grunting with the effort as I battled against my captors. My pulse thundered in my ears, the rush of blood almost deafening as adrenaline coursed through me.
An arm snaked around my neck from behind, the crook pressing against my throat and cutting off my air supply.
I choked, clawing at the obstruction as my lungs burned for oxygen.
Then…that scent.
Crisp, tinged with something deeper, almost spicy. I knew that scent. But from where? My head started to swim, and the edges of my awareness started to get funky and dim as the lack of air took its toll.
I clawed at the arm, struggling harder, desperate not to lose consciousness, not to let them take me. My heart raced in my ears, but the arm tightened, relentless and unyielding, until everything faded to black.