20. Dom
Dom
I slam my fist against the desk as I pace my office, phone pressed against my ear. The rage inside me threatens to boil over, consuming every rational thought and making me want to kill.
“You promised me results, Anderson. It’s been three days.” My voice is dangerously low.
“De Luca, I’m doing everything I can,” the mayor’s voice crackles through the line. “The police commissioner is asking questions about why I’m interfering with an active investigation.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your political problems.” I stop at the window, staring out at the ocean. “My stepdaughter is lying upstairs with half her face smashed in, and my son is still missing. Someone has to pay.”
“The raid was legitimate—”
“Bullshit!” I roar. “That club has operated for fifteen years without issue.” Suddenly there’s a raid the exact night Amara is there? The night her blackmailer got their information.
I don’t tell him that. He could be involved.
“It was going to happen one day.”
A growl rattles up my throat, but I take a deep breath, steadying myself. Losing control won’t help Amara or find Rafe.
“Mayor Anderson, let me be very clear. I have documentation of every payment I’ve made to your campaign over the last decade.
I have recordings of our conversations about the waterfront development.
I have photos of you at my establishments with women who aren’t your wife. One who happened to be my wife.”
Silence hangs between us.
“And I have pictures of you meeting my stepdaughter. Why was that?”
“Her mother asked me to talk to her about going into politics. Apparently, Amara didn’t have a clear direction of what she wanted to do. It was just...”
“Over dinner?” My voice comes out rough and low. “Not your office? It looks like more than a meeting about Amara’s future. And if the photos get out...”
I leave the sentence unfinished. He knows exactly what I’m implying.
He gasps. “You can’t—”
“I can and I will. Pull whatever strings you need to pull. Get me the name of whoever tipped off the police. And find my son.”
“De Luca, I don’t have that kind of power—”
“You do. Fix it.”
A piercing scream cuts through the air, coming from upstairs.
“Fix it,” I snarl into the phone before ending the call.
I bound up the stairs, taking them two at a time, my heart hammering against my ribs. I burst into Amara’s bedroom, but she’s not there. Then I hear sobbing and find her collapsed on the bathroom floor in Lia’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” Lia says, looking up at me with guilt-filled eyes. “I should have gone into the bathroom with her. She saw her face.”
I shake my head, my anger instantly dissolving at the sight of Amara’s pain. Inside, my heart is breaking. My piccola, broken and scared, and not even knowing who she is anymore.
“It’s fine,” I say softly. “I’ll take her,”
I bend down and lift her gently into my arms. She feels so fragile. Sounds so fragile.
Her tears soak into my shirt as I carry her to the bed and sit down, cradling her against my chest.
“Who did this to me?” she sobs against my chest. “Who hates me this much? What did I do?”
“It’s not your fault, Amara. You were caught up in the chaos of the night.” Lia strokes her hair off her face.
The door opens and Milly rushes in; her phone clutched in her hand. “What happened? I heard her screaming from the kitchen.”
“She wiped the paint off the mirror and saw her reflection,” Lia answers.
“Oh shit!” Milly says, staring at her sister.
“Yeah,” Lia replies.
Amara clutches my shirt, her face buried against my chest as sobs rattle through her body.
“Shh, piccola,” I murmur, stroking her hair. “You’ll heal. Everything will be okay.”
Milly shakes her phone. “Con just texted me. Asked how Amara was doing.”
I can’t stop the growl from crawling from my throat.
Milly looks at me with wide eyes. “Weird, right? He’s usually such a grumpy bastard, but he sounded genuinely concerned.”
“Who’s Con?” Amara asks, her voice hoarse from crying.
Milly and Lia exchange glances. Something passes between them—a secret I’m not part of.
“Oh damn. Why do I just hope you’ll remember someone?” Milly says. “Con is Mateo Conti,” she explains, her tone casual. Too casual. “Just a guy we know. A guy you were going to date.”
“Was I?” She bites her lip. “Mateo—”
“Good job that never happened. Con is a dangerous guy,” Lia mutters under her breath.
I shoot her a warning look.
Milly checks her phone again. “I’ve gotta run. Lorenzo’s waiting. I’ll be back tonight, okay?” She kisses Amara’s forehead gently before leaving.
“Lorenzo—is he your boyfriend?” Amara asks.
Milly grins. “Do you remember?”
Amara shakes her head. “Just wondered.”
Milly sighs. “Lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
I carefully lower Amara onto the mattress. “I need to make some calls. Will you be alright with Lia?”
She nods.
Lia follows me to the door, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Have you found out anything about Rafe yet?”
I look at Amara from the doorway. “Hopefully, I’ll have news about Rafe soon.” I don’t want to, but I have to leave her.
Milly comes back, holding up her phone again and turns to Amara. “Why does everyone ring me? Mom wants to know if you need anything. She’s on her way.”
I groan.
“I’m fine,” Amara grumbles. “And I need to rest once I’ve eaten something.” She pulls the blanket closer. “I’m so tired.”
“Okay, I’ll let you sleep, but you must eat.” Lia walks to Amara and squeezes her hand. “I’ll be back later after dinner. Have a rest.”
I wait by the door while Lia and Milly say their goodbyes to Amara. My mind’s already racing through what needs to be done, and who needs to be contacted.
Finding Rafe is the priority, but I can’t leave Amara unprotected.
“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Lia says, brushing hair from Amara’s face.
Milly pulls the blanket over her sister. “Just rest. The doctor said sleep is the best thing for you right now. I’ll tell the cook to bring your food up.”
“And you must eat,” I add. “You need some energy.”
“Thank you,” Amara mumbles, her eyelids already heavy. “I’m just so tired.”
I hesitate, wondering if this is appropriate. But fuck it! I stride to her and press a kiss to her forehead. “I have some business to attend to, but I won’t be far.”
She nods, already drifting off.
I usher Lia and Milly out, closing the door quietly behind us. “Can you stay with her?” I ask Milly. “And call me if anything changes.”
I watch Milly check her phone for the third time in as many minutes, her face contorting with annoyance.
“Something wrong?” I ask, keeping my voice low as we step away from Amara’s door.
Milly sighs dramatically. “I was supposed to meet Lorenzo. We had plans.”
“Lorenzo?” My jaw tightens.
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” She tilts her chin up defiantly, reminding me so much of her mother it makes my teeth grind.
“Cancel it,” I say flatly.
“Dom, come on! This is the third time I’ve had to reschedule. He’s going to think—”
“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks.” I step closer, towering over her. “Your sister is lying in there with her face smashed in, no memory of who she is, and you’re worried about a date?”
Lia places a hand on my arm. “Dom, take it easy.”
I exhale slowly, trying to control my temper. “Family is more important right now, Milly. Lorenzo can wait.”
Milly’s shoulders slump. “Fine. But I’m telling him it’s your fault.”
“I don’t give a fuck! Tell him whatever you want.” I turn to Lia. “Are you staying?”
She shakes her head. “I need to go home and check the security footage with Cade. We’ve been going through everything from outside the club that night. I’m determined to find the car that ran her over.”
“Any leads?” I ask, hope flaring in my chest.
“Maybe. There’s a black SUV that shows up multiple times, but the plates are obscured. Cade’s working on enhancing the images.”
I nod. “Keep me updated. Every detail matters. For Rafe too.”
“Of course.” Lia squeezes my arm. “We’ll find who did this and who took Rafe.”
Milly huffs as Lia leaves. Her fingers fly over her phone screen. “There. My date is canceled. Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” I deadpan. “Now I need to make some calls.”
She rolls her eyes but nods. “Fine.”
Before I have the time to make it to my office, my phone rings. I turn to Milly and say, “Thank you.” Although the words come out gruff, I mean them. “She shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“I know.” Milly’s expression softens. “She’s my sister. I’d do anything for her.”
For a moment, I see the good heart beneath all that attitude, and I’m grateful.
“Call me if anything changes. Anything at all,” I tell her as I answer my call.
I pace to the door of Amara’s room, phone pressed to my ear, rage burning through my veins as I listen. Every muscle in my body is coiled tight, ready to unleash violence on whoever took my son.
“Where?” I demand into the phone. My free hand balls into a fist. “How long has he been there?”
“We have eyes on him. He’s alive, but looks roughed up. Three guards that we can see,” Romeo Conti tells me as I make my way to my office. “Con and I are leaving in twenty minutes. As soon as the helicopters are here.”
Inside my office, I stop at the window, staring out at the ocean. The same view Amara loves to look at when she floats in the pool. Thinking of her lying upstairs, broken and confused, makes my blood boil hotter. But I need to be there for my son too.
“Wait for me. No one touches him until I get there,” I order. “I want whoever did this alive. They have questions to answer.”
“Understood.”
I end the call and turn back toward Amara’s room. I hate having to leave her like this, especially with Helena on her way, who’ll no doubt taint her thoughts and make her believe her lies. But I’ll deal with her later.
When I step back into Amara’s room, she’s watching me with those wide blue eyes. Even with half her face bruised and swollen, she’s beautiful.
Something twists in my chest—a feeling I’ve been fighting for too long.
“I need to leave,” I tell her, keeping my voice gentle.
“Why? What’s happening?” Panic flashes across her face, and I hate being the cause of it.
“My son has been located.”
She blinks, confusion evident in her expression. “Your son?”
“Rafe.” I move closer to her bed, fighting the urge to touch her face. “He was kidnapped the night you were hurt.”
“Kidnapped? By whom?” Her voice is small, frightened.
My jaw tightens. “By people who are going to wish they were never born.”
I see her shiver at my words, at the coldness in my voice. Good. She should understand what I’m capable of—what I’ll do to protect what’s mine. And whether she remembers it or not, she is mine.
“Were they the same people who tried to hurt me?” she asks quietly.
I pause at the door, my hand on the knob. “That’s what I intend to find out.”
Her shoulders drop as my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I check the caller. Luigi, my driver. “Yes, Luigi.”
“The car is ready, sir. Waiting at the front entrance.”
“On my way.”
I take the stairs quickly, my mind shifting gears. By the time I slide into the back seat of the Bentley, I’m already dialing Antonio Conti.
“De Luca,” his gruff voice answers. “About time.”
“Romeo called me. What information do you have?”
“Our intel says Rafe is being held at a warehouse just over the New South Wales border. My men spotted movement there an hour ago.”
I grip the phone tighter. “Who kidnapped him?”
“The van that took him was a blacked-out SUV with false plates. Every person seen taking Rafe was wearing a mask, so we can’t be sure. Just get here. The helicopter is ready to go.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. “I’m on my way. One more call to make.”
“Is Cade making progress? Does he have more information on who was in the club that night?” Antonio asks before I disconnect.
“He’s working on it.”
I disconnect and immediately dial Dante.
“Where are you?” I ask the moment he answers.
“At Cade and Rafe’s apartment. We’re going through the security footage from the club.”
“Be ready. I’ll be there in an hour. We’re going to rescue your brother.”