Chapter 37
Damiano
The air in the SUV smells of leather and cigarettes. Through the window, the coastline smears past in a rugged haze of gray. Rain batters the windshield relentlessly, casting a gloom over everything.
I fixate on my phone, watching the blue dot blink in the same spot near a cliff where no path is visible on the map. It’s been blinking there since yesterday. My thumb drums against the screen, the tightness in my body refusing to ease.
Just stay put, Dolcezza. I’m coming for you.
“You’re going to break that damn phone,” Andreas says, eyes locked on the road as he accelerates, the engine howling past 160. “You’ll burn a hole through that screen before I burn out these tires. Take a breath.”
I don’t respond. I can’t think about anything else but her safety.
She has been with that fucking snake for hours now, and who knows what he’s done.
I try to close my eyes and lean back; my body is tired, having no sleep for almost 48 hours, but my mind won’t rest. As soon as the dark engulfs me, I’m back on the ocean from months ago when we were fake-dating.
The sun was hot and bright, igniting the water’s surface.
We had taken the jet ski out, and Katarina pushed it until the hull skipped over the crests of the wakes.
I remember the sharp sound of her giggle as we hit a wave wrong and pitched forward.
The water devoured us whole, but when we surfaced, gasping and tangled together, she was radiant.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, her skin slick and soft against mine. As we drifted, the sunlight struck her face in perfect slow-motion. Her big, honey eyes stare at me, her smile broadening.
She clung to me, her body molding perfectly to mine, and kissed me. We kissed for so long like we can’t get enough of each other.
“I don’t want this to stop,” she’d sighed against my lips. The pleading in her voice almost drove me insane.
At that moment, I knew I had disintegrated into a hopeless man. I felt a terrifying urge to be everything she needed and wanted. It felt like my entire existence had been a prelude to that specific moment.
“Now that you know she is a Castiglione,” Andreas’ voice slices through my thoughts. “What’s the move after we get her? What’s the endgame?”
I open my eyes and watch a drop of rain trail across the side window.
“I don’t know,” I answer.
“You can’t just keep her in your house. Her father will unleash hell on all of us, and your own father might kill you himself.” He steers us expertly down what appears to be a goat path.
“I can’t care. Right now, I just need to get to her.” I murmur, checking the phone again. We’re getting closer and closer to the location ping.
“I just know she isn’t leaving my sight again,” I add.
Lucian leans forward from the backseat. Usually, violence is his answer to everything, but now his voice is flat she’ll be a Cotrini. Her father can’t touch a Cotrini’s wife. It’s against the rules.”
Andreas nods in surprise. “He’s right. The Dons will only accept that path. But a Cotrini-Castiglione wedding?” He whistles. “That would be the biggest merger La Famiglia has seen. That kind of power would draw every enemy to your doorstep. Are you ready for that?”
“I never wanted to be her hero. I just want to be the villain she’s not afraid of,” I mutter. “They’ll have to bury me before I let another man decide who she marries.”
Suddenly, a frantic, rhythmic clapping fills the cabin, followed by a bright, tinny Spanish guitar, and the song “Aserejé” blasts through the speakers.
I whip my head around, my eyes flashing a promise of violence toward the backseat.
“Turn that off.”
“I need to stay awake,” Lucian grunts, his serious mask gone as he taps his foot to the beat. “And you need to stop grinding your teeth. I can hear your jaw cracking over the engine. Enjoy the song, this is a classic.”
I look at Andreas, and he bursts out laughing.
“He spent his entire year’s worth of wisdom just now. We’re back to factory settings,” Andreas says, and I shake my head.
“Mindless is better than listening to you moan,” Lucian says.
The nonsense lyrics thump through the car until my phone buzzes.
“Enzo,” I answer.
“The Castigliones made contact with papà ten minutes ago,” Lorenzo’s voice is tight. “They have proof you’re keeping Katarina. Papà is beyond furious, and Don Castiglione has called for all the Dons to meet.”
“Stall. Give me time, Lorenzo.”
“I can give you two hours,” Lorenzo says. “After that, you’re coming back here. Flavio is on the ground looking for her. He can’t be too far from you.”
I hang up.
“Two hours.”
“How are you so sure about that signal?” Lucian asks, finally turning off the music. “Julian knows how to scrub a GPS, surely. He’s not an amateur.”
I reach into my pocket for the key again, the cold metal grounding me.
“I hid a military-grade transmitter in the cuff bracelet I gave her. She doesn’t know it’s there, and it can’t be removed without this key.”
Andreas whistles again. “Remind me not to accept any gift from you again, you possessive bastard.”
“Coast road,” Lucian says, as the road becomes more ragged. “There must be a safe house at the end of this.”
I brace myself.
The ache in my chest is a pressure that only her presence can alleviate.
I’m almost here, Dolcezza.