Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Nico
I stare at the woman standing in front of me, veil now pulled back, face fully exposed under the low lights of the room.
“You’re one of Massimo’s daughters,” I say quietly, studying her face. “But you’re definitely not Sienna.”
She doesn’t answer. Just lifts her chin and stares straight back at me, pure defiance burning in those dark eyes.
My patience snaps.
I let the silence stretch, then slowly reach for my gun. The barrel presses against her forehead.
“You’ve got one second to tell why you’re dressed like your sister,” I murmur, voice low and even, “or I’ll paint this room with your brains.”
She flinches. Finally. A sharp little jerk of her body, eyes widening for half a heartbeat. But instead of responding to my question, the crazy woman has the nerve to say, “You won’t shoot me,” she says, voice shaky. “You need me alive.”
I almost laugh. The audacity of this woman—zip-tied, kidnapped, staring down the barrel of my gun, and still running her mouth.
“Not anymore,” I tell her calmly. “You’re not Sienna. Which makes you fucking useless to me.”
I thumb the safety off. The metallic click echoes between us, and her eyes flood with fear. Real fear. She swallows hard, throat working visibly, pulse jumping under the delicate skin of her neck.
I quirk a brow, waiting. “I’m Eleonora,” she finally breathes. “Sienna’s older sister.”
I lower the gun slightly, confusion slicing through the rage. “Tell me one thing,” my voice comes out sharper than I intend. “Why the hell are you wearing the wedding dress? Did Andrea pick a different bride at the last minute?”
She stays silent, lips pressed tight, eyes locked on mine like she’s still deciding how much to give me.
“Speak,” I snap.
She jumps at the command, then lets out a shaky breath. “Sienna didn’t want to marry Andrea. She’s in love with someone else. So, I decided to take her place.”
The pieces come together in my head. They switched. They actually fucking switched.
And I took the wrong goddamn sister. Weeks of planning, surveillance, timing, routes, risks calculated down to the second, all of it for nothing. I just dragged the wrong Caruso daughter through a shootout across Manhattan. I risked my life and the lives of my men for the wrong bride.
“Fuck.”
I shove my gun back into the holster. My hand drags roughly through my hair as a string of curses leaves my mouth.
All this time. All this effort. And I’ve been running around the city with Eleonora Caruso instead of Sienna.
I level my stare at her. “Where’s Sienna now?”
Eleonora presses her lips together and says nothing. That defiant fire is still burning in her eyes. I take one slow step closer, letting the silence stretch until it’s suffocating. My voice drops, low and ice-cold.
“I’ll ask once more. Where is your sister? Lie to me, and I’ll have your other sisters Camilla and Daniela picked up before sunrise. I’ll put a bullet in each of their pretty heads while you watch. Then I’ll send your father their tongues. Do you understand me?”
Her face drains of color. The defiance flickers, replaced by raw fear. She swallows hard, throat working.
“She’s gone,” she says quietly. “With her boyfriend. She couldn’t marry Andrea… she’s in love with Domenico. We switched so she could run away with him but I have no idea where they are.”
“So let me get this straight,” I say slowly. “You switched places with your sister to marry Andrea Gallo… even though he made it very clear he wanted Sienna specifically?”
She nods.
“Was Andrea in on the switch?”
“No.”
A harsh breath leaves me. “You were just going to walk down the aisle, marry him and surprise him at the altar when he removed the veil?”
She doesn’t answer, but the look on her face says it all. Does she know how dangerous Massimo is? He would have put a bullet in her head the moment he found out she was the wrong bride.
“And your father?” I ask. “Massimo doesn’t know either?”
“No.”
“Who else knows?”
“Just me and my sisters. No one else.”
I watch her carefully. “So where is Sienna right now?”
“I told you that I don’t know.”
I step closer. “You had better not be lying to me, Eleonora.”
“I’m not. None of us know. That was the whole point. If Papa came after us, if anyone tortured us for answers, we couldn’t give them any. I have no idea where they are. They’re probably already out of the state by now.”
I hold her gaze for a long moment. Something in her eyes tells me she’s telling the truth. She really doesn’t know.
I drag a hand through my hair, cursing under my breath as the reality settles like lead in my gut. I exhale, trying to recalculate. This doesn’t ruin my plan. I’ll use her just the same. The leverage still holds.
She stares at me like she wants to rip my throat out with her teeth. “Congratulations, Lombardi. You kidnapped the wrong sister.”
I turn on my heel before I strangle her. The door slams behind me as I step into the hallway, the lock clicking into place.
Fury simmers under my skin, even if I’m doing my best to stay cool. I drag a hand down my face as I head down the wide staircase, jaw clenched so tight it aches. I need to think. Need to recalculate everything before this blows up in my face.
Marco is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, his usual calm mask in place. My underboss. The only man who can really read me.
“How’d it go?” he asks. “We got the Caruso girl?”
I give him a single nod as I reach the last step.
He studies my face for half a second and frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Not now,” I mutter, brushing past him. “Are the men ready?”
“Yeah. They’re all in the operations room waiting for you.”
I don’t slow down. Marco falls into step beside me, our shoes echoing against the marble as we move through the west wing.
The operations room is my war room, large, soundproof, dominated by a long black table, multiple screens on the walls, and maps.
Only my inner circle is allowed inside. These are the men who know the real moves, the ones who carry out the orders that can start or end wars.
As we approach the heavy double doors, I hear the low chatter of voices inside. The second I push them open, the room falls dead silent. Every man stands immediately, heads slightly bowed in respect.
“Boss,” a few of them murmur.
I walk straight to the head of the table and drop into the leather chair. I motion with two fingers for them all to sit. Marco takes the seat to my right, as always.
I scan the room, twelve of my most trusted captains and lieutenants. They know the anatomy of the syndicate. They know which politicians we own, which ports we control, and exactly how deep our blades go.
I can’t tell them the mission is fucked up.
I’m their Don. In their eyes, I’m supposed to be above mistakes. Especially this one. Kidnapping the Caruso bride was my operation. I planned it. I led the team in the field. I’m not about to admit I dragged the wrong woman out of that garden.
I lean back in my chair, letting the silence stretch for a beat.
“As you’re all aware,” I say, voice calm and controlled, “we now have one of Massimo Caruso’s daughters in our possession. Andrea Gallo’s intended bride.”
I pause, watching the reaction. Pride flashes across their faces. Grins. Nods. A couple of them even look damn near gleeful.
“The ransom demands will go out under Sienna Caruso’s name, as planned,” I continue. “But we’re going to tell the family we took two girls.”
The room shifts. Confused glances bounce around the table.
One of my captains, Enzo, leans forward. “Two girls? Boss… we only have one, right?”
“Yeah, we only have one girl,” I say, leaning forward, elbows on the table, keeping my expression unreadable.
“But a second Caruso daughter is missing too. By now, Massimo has realized both girls are gone. Let him assume we have them both. It gives us more leverage. He’ll bleed faster if he thinks we’re holding two of his daughters.
Make him more desperate. More willing to give us what we want. ”
The men exchange glances, then slowly nod. Enzo leans back, stroking his chin. “Makes sense. More pressure on the old man.”
“Good,” I continue. “We use her. We squeeze Caruso. And when we’re done, Gallo will lose his shipping alliance and we take the docks.”
Marco glances at me sideways, but he doesn’t say a word. He knows me well enough to keep his mouth shut in front of the others.
“I want every man on high alert. Tighten security around the estate, double the perimeter patrols, no one gets within a mile without us knowing. The Gallos and Caruso won’t take this lying down. Especially Andrea Gallo. That prick is going to come looking for blood. Be ready.”
The room murmurs in agreement. Then Vito, one of my captains, speaks up from the far end of the table. “We could just eliminate the bride. Send Massimo her head. That would destabilize him a lot faster and weaken him.”
Dead silence falls over the room.
I slowly turn my head toward him. “If you, or anyone else in this room, touches a single hair on her head without my direct permission,” I say, voice low and deadly calm, “I will break every bone in your hands, one by one, while you’re still breathing.
Then I’ll cut out your tongue so you can never make another stupid fucking suggestion again.
After that, I’ll keep you alive just long enough for you to watch me feed the rest of you to the dogs. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”
Vito goes pale. He swallows hard. “Yes, boss. Crystal clear.”
Every man at the table straightens instantly. “Anyone else have brilliant ideas?”
No one speaks. I let the silence stretch for two full seconds before I continue.
“Good. Now, on to the rest. Marco, I want updated routes for the next three shipments rerouted through our secondary docks by tomorrow night.
Luca, increase surveillance on the Gallo warehouses, every movement, every truck, every conversation. I want to know when Gallo takes a piss.
“The rest of you, tighten our alliances with the smaller families. Spread the word quietly that the Port Syndicate is about to own the East Coast shipping lanes. Understood?”
A chorus of “Yes, Boss” ripples through the room.
I push back from the table and stand. “Dismissed.”
Chairs scrape as the men rise quickly and file out. Marco stays seated, watching me with that sharp, knowing look he’s had since we were kids running the streets together.
I don’t acknowledge him, because right now I’m still trying to figure out why the thought of anyone putting a hand on Eleonora Caruso made something dark and possessive flare up in my chest.
The second we’re alone, he leans back in his chair. “Alright. What the fuck is going on?”
I exhale through my nose and drag a hand through my hair. “We got the wrong sister.”
Marco blinks. “What? How do you mean?”
“I didn’t know until I took the veil off a few minutes ago. She was wearing the full wedding dress, the veil, everything. We went in for the bride, so we grabbed her. Turns out it’s Eleonora, Caruso’s second daughter, not Sienna.”
Marco stares at me like I just told him I burned down one of our own warehouses. “How the—?”
“They switched,” I cut in. “Sienna didn’t want to marry Andrea. She’s in love with some guy. So the sisters swapped places so Sienna could run off with him into the sunset. Eleonora walked in as the bride instead.”
Marco lets out a low whistle. “None of this makes sense. So Sienna’s on the run with her boyfriend right now?”
“Yeah.”
He rubs his jaw, thinking. “And you’re still planning to let Caruso and Gallo think we have her?”
“It gives us more leverage,” I say. “Andrea personally wanted Sienna. She’s the one he chose. Having her, or at least making them believe we do, hurts them more.”
Marco is quiet for a moment, then shakes his head. “I don’t like it. This is messy, Nico. Really fucking messy.”
“I know. But we’re already in it. Find Sienna. Quietly. Before anyone else does. This stays between us, no one else knows we have the wrong sister.”
He studies me for a beat too long, then a slow, shit-eating grin spreads across his face. “Wait… you sure you didn’t grab the wrong girl on purpose?”
“Fuck off, Marco.”
He chuckles, but it fades quickly. “How is she?”
“Feisty as hell,” I mutter. “Won’t stop running her mouth. I need to put a guard on her. Send for Daniel.”
Daniel is one of my most reliable soldiers, disciplined, quiet, and ruthlessly loyal. He’s not easily distracted. If anyone can handle her without losing control, it’s him.
Marco nods and stands. “I’ll get on finding Sienna.”
I give him a nod, and the moment he leaves, I exhale the tension I’ve been holding, exhaustion and irritation warring in my chest. A minute later, a knock sounds. Daniel’s broad frame steps in. “Boss.”
“The Caruso girl is in the east wing suite. You’re now her personal guard.
Twenty-four seven. She doesn’t leave that room without my permission.
She doesn’t talk to anyone but me. Make sure she doesn’t try to escape, or harm herself.
You keep her alive and contained. If she gets so much as a scratch that isn’t from me, I’ll take it out of your skin. Understood?”
Daniel doesn’t flinch. “Yes, Boss.”
“Good. Go.”
He nods once and turns on his heel, disappearing down the hall.
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes for a second. Fuck! I still can’t believe we have the wrong sister. Something tells me this one is going to be a hell of a lot more trouble than the one I was supposed to take.