Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Tony
The sound of shattering glass yanks me out of Lucia’s lips. Before coming here, I made sure no one would come to this wing. Clearly, someone did.
I head toward the door, my hand resting on the handle, when Rafael calls out to me. I step out, and the first thing that catches my attention is the broken wine bottle, red wine staining the white marble.
“I caught Emily right outside the door,” Rafael says.
Shit. I squeeze my eyes shut, and rake my fingers through my hair. “Did she hear us?”
“Not sure, but probably. She ran the second she saw me.”
“Why didn’t you stop her, you idiot?”
“Carlo came through the gate with a whole army of his men a few minutes ago. I was afraid the girl would start screaming and draw his dogs’ attention. She’s probably in her room crying her eyes out now.”
Damn it. This is the last thing I needed.
I peek back into the room and tell Lucia to stay put. Then, I rush to the other wing, but the sight of Emily’s empty room sends a chill through my body.
If she’s not crying in her room, she’s probably outside, right in front of Carlo and his men. All it would take is one word, and Carlo would bury me, Lucia, and my unborn child in a deep grave by tonight.
I pace the room, trying to think, but there’s no fucking way out.
I could take Lucia through the hidden tunnel behind the library, but Carlo likely knows about it and might be waiting at the other end with an army.
He doesn’t know that I know about the tunnel, though.
My father showed me every escape route from the estate in case of an attack back when he was alive.
There’s no other option but to trust my luck and pray Emily doesn’t open her big mouth and screw us all.
With Rafael by my side, I walk to the estate’s main entrance, my steps steady despite the chaos brewing inside me.
In the distance, I see Carlo riding toward us on horseback.
He’s shirtless except for that ridiculous Roman-armor tattoo covering his chest, and in his thick arms is my fake, fucking girlfriend.
Her face is swollen and red from crying, mascara streaking down her cheeks. She’s wearing a white men’s shirt over her own clothes, and I have no idea why.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I lock my gaze on them.
When Carlo digs his heels into the horse’s sides, spurring it into a gallop toward me, I know he’s seen me. If he’s figured out what’s going on, there’s a good chance he’ll run me down until I’m nothing but a smear on the ground.
My insides churn, but I don’t move an inch.
The horse charges at me, its speed breathtaking, and stops abruptly just a hair’s breadth from my face as Carlo yanks on the reins.
As I watch Carlo’s face flushed with anger, I plaster a fake, carefree smile on my face. “Carlo, long time no see.”
He doesn’t let go of that dimwitted girl in his arms. “Not long enough if you ask me. You were supposed to visit your mother only when I was away.”
I spread my arms wide, keeping my tone light. “And yet here I am. Ready to forgive and forget. For the sake of family.”
He releases the girl, letting her stumble to the side, and dismounts his horse. In two long strides, he’s close enough to invade my personal space, but I hold my ground.
From this distance, the scar splitting his eyebrow—courtesy of Salman’s sword—is more noticeable. It fits perfectly with the rest of his rugged, primitive appearance, especially that shaved head he keeps to look more imposing.
His voice is controlled, but his tone insulting.
“Every word out of your mouth is a lie. I don’t give a fuck why you’re here or what you’re up to.
I don’t trust you, Tony, not even a bit.
But let me tell you this, whatever plot you’ve cooked up this time to take me down, I’m ready for it.
I’m always watching you. Always one step ahead. ”
The tension drains out of me. Emily hasn’t told him anything.
I lift my chin and smirk. “We’ll see, Carlo. We’ll see.”
My words carry a threatening undertone, and Carlo doesn’t miss it. His eyes narrow slightly. “You should also explain the stunt your girlfriend pulled. You’ve got one hour.”
The bastard knows exactly which buttons to push. “You’re not my capo. You don’t get to order me around.”
He seems satisfied by my frustration. “I might not be a capo yet, but I’ve got enough power to act like one. And trust me, whatever I say gets done, one way or another. You can make it easy, or you can make it ugly. Your call.”
He walks past me, and just before stepping into the estate, he turns and throws one last jab. “I’m sure you know what I’m hoping you’ll choose.”
Once he’s out of sight, I spin my head to Emily, who’s still perched on the horse, completely unaware of the chaos she’s unleashed. But she’ll know soon enough, because I’m about to throw some of that fire right back at her.
“Get that bitch inside,” I bark at Rafael.
Then I head back in, storming into my room and going straight to the window. My hands are clenched into fists, a volatile mix of hatred, rage, and frustration coursing through me.
The view from my room overlooks a serene lake, but right now, all I see is a curtain of blood clouding my vision.
It doesn’t take long for Rafael to drag the troublemaker in and throw her down at my feet. My anger burns so hot I can’t even bring myself to look at her.
Her sobs fill the room, and she scrambles to her feet, blurting out like the fool she is.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You have no right to treat me like this! No right to be so rude when I just caught you red-handed, proving what a bastard you are! A lying, cheating snake who sleeps with another man’s wife… ”
Her final words are the last straw, the spark that finally lit the fuse. I turn and slap her so hard she flies back onto the floor.
She presses a hand to her flushed cheek, staring at me in disbelief. My anger for her burns so fiercely that I can’t even speak. I gesture for her to stand, but she’s still stuck in her daze. Frustrated with her sluggish reaction, I glance at Rafael.
He steps forward, grabs her by the collar, and hoists her up before tossing her onto the bed.
I walk over to a chair a few steps from the bed, lower myself into it, and ask coldly, “Are you listening to me?”
Instead of answering, she stares at the sheets, clearly still in shock. Fuck it, I don’t have time for this.
I nod at Rafael again. He storms toward her, grabs her arm, and twists it viciously. The pressure makes her scream.
“Are you listening to me, Emily?” I repeat.
“Yes, yes! Please, let me go. You’re hurting me,” she sobs.
“Yes, sir,” Rafael dictates her.
Emily instantly mimics him like a parrot, “Yes, sir.”
He lets her go and she scrambles as far back as she can on the bed, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
“Never put Lucia and Carlo’s names in the same sentence again.” I warn her. “It’ll cost you far worse than a broken arm next time.”
“Why are you doing this to me? I didn’t do anything wrong,” she moans in despair.
“You were spying on me behind closed doors. That alone is enough to make your life a living hell.”
“I wasn’t spying on you! I just wanted to spend some time with Lucia. I didn’t even know you were home. You told me you wouldn’t be back until tonight.”
“If I thought you’d done this on purpose or planned it, you wouldn’t even be here right now. But that doesn’t lessen your guilt. Now calm down and answer my question. What did you tell Carlo?”
“Nothing! He’s so terrifying I couldn’t get a single word out when I saw him.”
Her sobbing stops. She pulls herself forward, her voice more hopeful as she tries to convince me.
“I won’t say anything to anyone. I promise, Tony.
I’ll pack my things and leave today. I don’t care why you brought me here.
I swear, I won’t breathe a word about your family or anything that’s happened. ”
I smirk at her naivety. She thinks stumbling onto the truth about my family being mafia gives her leverage over me. This girl has no clue just how deep in the mud she’s stuck. She doesn’t realize her fate is now bound to this family.
“Do you think I care if you talk about my family? The entire country knows what we are. Every official is aware, but neither the power nor the courage to stand against us exists. Do you know why? Because we are the real government.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the armrests of the chair, and continue, “As for leaving? The answer is no. You’re not done here yet.”
This time, her fear gives way to anger. “What the hell am I supposed to do here? Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”
“First, you’re going to fix the mess you made. Go to Carlo and tell him we had a stupid argument and you overreacted like the idiot you are. If he suspects you for even a second, I won’t show you any mercy, Emily. Carlo’s smart, so you’d better sound convincing.”
“I’ll do whatever you say. I swear I won’t tell Carlo anything. Please… can I leave after?”
“Unfortunately, no,” I shatter her hopes. “I don’t know why I’m even explaining this, but since you keep asking, your stay here is going to be a lot longer than you thought.”
Her eyes dart around, wide with terror. I can’t blame her. I lulled her into a sweet dream, and now she’s waking up to a living nightmare.
“You can’t just keep me here.”
“I can. And you’d better accept that sooner rather than later, because patience isn’t one of my strengths.”
“My family, my friends, they’ll come looking for me. They’ll know something’s wrong. They’ll find me.”
I didn’t want it to come to this, but she’s asking for it. Rising to my feet, I slide a hand into my pocket and start pacing, setting the stage for the final blow.
“You know, when people like you hear the word ‘mafia,’ the first thing that comes to mind is drugs. A lot of people think that’s all we deal in.
But in reality, that’s far from the truth.
Gambling, brothels, underground boxing, arms trafficking—those are all part of our expertise.
But there’s one particularly lucrative and fascinating area, human trafficking.
And as it happens, my uncle Giuseppe has a strong passion for it. He’s deeply involved in that trade.”
Her breathing turns shallow and uneven. Perfect.
“Rafael,” I call. “The envelope.”
Rafael retrieves it from the bedside drawer and dumps its contents in front of Emily, who shrinks back in fear.
Her wide eyes dart to the photos scattered before her, pictures of her shopping, laughing, enjoying herself.
There are also screenshots of chats she had with her family and friends, all pulled straight from her phone.
Now that she gets how deep she’s in, it’s time to finish this. “These chats and photos make it look like you’re here willingly, enjoying every minute. Add the security footage of you blowing money on designer crap every day, and we’ve got plenty of evidence. Now, look at me, Emily.”
Her eyes snap to mine, wide with terror.
“If you so much as step out of line, I’ll hand you to my uncle as a slave.
Then I’ll pick a girl from his collection who looks exactly like you, kill her, put her in a car, and blow it up.
After that, I’ll send the half-burned body to your family in the U.S.
with your passport and phone so they can bury her as you.
And you? You’ll spend the rest of your life in such agony that you’ll wish a thousand times a day that it was you in that grave instead. Believe that.”
I draw a slow breath. “But if you behave, Rafael will keep texting your family for you. And when I’m done with you, you’ll be free to go back to your life.”
Her voice barely comes out. “What do you want me to do?”
“Exactly what you were brought here for. Be my girlfriend. Be what you’re supposed to be.”
“Promise me you’ll let me go after.”
I tell her the truth. “I promise. After that, you’ll never see me again.”
Her body relaxes slightly. Poor thing.
“So we have a deal. Right?” I ask.
She only nods in agreement.
I settle back into my chair and dismiss her. “Go back to your room and clean yourself up. Rafael will come get you and take you to Carlo.”
Just before she leaves, I make sure to drive the point home. “And if you’re thinking of telling Carlo the truth, hoping to get his support, you’re dead wrong. The Wife-Killer doesn’t exactly have a soft spot for women. Both of his previous wives committed suicide just months after marrying him.”
“But you said they died of natural causes,” she whispers.
“They did. According to our laws,” I say with a smirk before adding, “And as you’ve probably noticed, the man is like the chief of a savage tribe.
When he’s angry at the message, he slaughters the messenger first and deals with everything else later.
If you tell him anything, his rage will hit you first.”
Her voice cracks as she murmurs, “I won’t say anything.”
Then she leaves the room.