Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Lucia
“Mommy…Mommy, wake up.”
Antonia’s voice feels like it’s pulling me up from the depths of the ocean, dragging me from unconsciousness back to awareness.
The warmth of her tiny fingers on my cheek brings everything rushing back in sharp, terrifying flashes.
My eyes fly open. I sit up fast and pull Antonia tightly against me.
My head throbs viciously and my mouth feels like sandpaper. I blink hard, squeezing my eyes shut then forcing them open, trying to understand where I am. Antonia squirms in my embrace, whining for me to let her go, but instead, I tighten my hold around her.
Finally, my vision adjusts to the light, and the colors and patterns around me become clear. There’s no doubt, I’m inside the cabin of a private jet.
I turn my head and see the same huge man sitting casually in a seat, one long leg crossed over the other.
He’s changed into a black t-shirt and jeans, revealing a body covered in ink. Every inch of his exposed skin is marked with colorful tattoos. His face is strikingly handsome—light hair, warm honey eyes, sharp cheekbones. But something cold and lethal hides behind that gaze.
I tear my eyes away from him and focus on Antonia. I shift her behind me, shielding her with my body, and quickly check her from head to toe for any signs of harm. Lifting the hem of her dress, I check her legs, but she giggles and wriggles away.
“Stop it, Mommy, that tickles!”
Only when I’m certain she’s unharmed do I cup her small face in my hands. “Are you okay, my love?”
She nods, eyes bright. “I’m fine! Noah gave me pizza while you were sleeping. I even got to have soda.”
Her eyes widen as if realizing she just confessed to something she wasn’t supposed to. She points at the big man, looking guilty. “I told him I’m not allowed soda, but he said sometimes you have to bend the rules. What does that mean, Mommy?”
I pull her into my arms again. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
Then I look back at the man, my voice tight. “Who are you?”
“Noah,” he answers casually.
“What do you want with us?”
“We’re playing a game, Mommy,” he says with a grin. “I’m going to hide you somewhere, and then we wait for Daddy to come find you and Antonia.”
He shifts his gaze to Antonia and asks, “Isn’t that right, little lady?”
Antonia nods enthusiastically. I reach for the sealed water bottle on the table and take a long sip, trying to push back the tears burning behind my eyes.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I force out my words, my body rigid with defense. “Where are you taking us?”
A smirk tugs at his lips, but it never reaches his eyes. “You mean you don’t know?”
I tighten my arms protectively around Antonia.
“It’s been five years,” I whisper. “Everything is different now. No one even remembers. Why can’t Carlo just let it go?”
His face stays blank. “In this world, no sin goes unpunished. You left a mark on Carlo’s honor. That kind of mark only washes away with blood.”
I swallow hard and clutch Antonia tighter, squeezing her so much she squirms in discomfort. “Mommy, don’t hold me so tight.”
Loosening my grip, I whisper in a voice drained of strength, “Why did you drag my daughter into this? She’s innocent.”
“Don Carlo doesn’t want to hurt your daughter. My original plan was to take Tony out. You were just the bonus. But that smart son of a bitch slipped away. His daughter, though?” He smiles coldly. “He’ll walk right into the trap for her.”
Tears spill down my cheeks, and I beg him. “Please, let my daughter go. I’m begging you.”
He stands, his voice cold and final. “Your daughter’s freedom comes at a cost, your life and Antonio Bruni’s. Settle the debt, and she walks free.”
***
Antonia presses her little hands to the car window, eyes wide with excitement as tall pines fly past. As the Bruni estate looms ahead, dread coils tight in my chest. Antonia, completely unaware, bounces with excitement beside me.
With flushed cheeks, she turns to me, beaming. “Mommy, we’re going to hide in a real castle! Do you think Daddy will find us?”
I force a reassuring smile to keep her from being scared. “Of course, sweetheart. No matter where we are, Daddy will always find us.”
The car stops in front of the tall iron gates. I look back at the swaying pines and the golden light filtering through the leaves. Birds fly freely overhead. Life goes on, but not for me. Once I step beyond these iron gates, everything will be over.
Without thinking, I pull Antonia into my arms again. I know I can’t protect her, but I’m ready to shield her with my own body if I have to.
As we step out of the car, Antonia freezes at the sight of a row of men. Hesitantly, she clings to my legs. I immediately crouch down and lift her into my arms. My eyes scan the crowd, but I see neither Carlo nor Brando.
Noah, along with a few other men, escorts me to the room where I’m to be held.
It’s in the east wing. Even though I lived in this house for nearly two years, this is the first time I’ve stepped foot in this part of the estate.
The room is spacious and bright, with a large terrace overlooking the west wing, the place that once housed Carlo’s quarters.
The door clicks shut. I set Antonia down and sink onto the couch, legs shaking.
I catch my reflection in the tall mirror.
The blood has been wiped from my face, but a lock of my hair is still matted red.
Antonia, unbothered by our captivity, happily skips toward the grand bed and begins bouncing on it, her laughter filling the space.
I drop my elbows onto my knees and bury my face in my hands.
God, what do I do? Can Tony even reach us here?
Deep down, I already know the answer. This is Carlo’s kingdom.
His empire absolute. He rules this wild jungle, capable of crushing anyone who dares enter his territory.
No matter how much I believe in Tony, I see no way out of this.
The sound of murmurs outside the door snaps me back to attention. I stand just as it swings open.
And then he walks in.
The man who, to me, is the embodiment of death itself.
A group of men follows behind him, and among them, I recognize Noah, Maxim, Carlo’s right-hand man, and his brother, Brando.
My heart pounds against my ribs. Antonia, startled by the unfamiliar and imposing figures, rushes toward me.
I push her behind my legs and place a protective hand on her head.
Carlo’s eyes linger on Antonia for a moment before locking onto me, cold and unreadable.
He looks nothing like the man I remember.
The brutish, shaved-head thug is gone. In his place stands a polished man in a crisp white shirt, dark hair neatly styled, black tattoos peeking from his open collar.
His appearance may be sharper, more polished, but the aura of danger surrounding him has only intensified.
His hands hang relaxed at his sides as a slow, triumphant smirk curves his lips. “Welcome home, dear Lucia.”
My throat is so dry I can’t swallow. I just stare at him and pull Antonia closer, arms locked around her.
Carlo has always been the most terrifying man I’ve ever known. But today, with pure hatred burning in his eyes, even my worst nightmares feel like child’s play.
Antonia clings tighter to my leg, her small voice shaking. “Mommy…who are these people?”
I look down at her, forcing a tearful smile. “They’re part of the game, sweetheart. Remember? We’re playing.”
The mischief that usually lights up her face has dimmed, replaced by a fragile innocence laced with fear. It makes my heart ache. My eyes sting with the threat of tears.
She nods slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m scared of them.”
“I’m here, baby. Don’t be scared.”
I sense someone stepping closer and whip my head around in alarm.
Brando crouches down, his voice warm and friendly as he addresses my daughter. “Hey there, little one. Do you know who I am?”
Antonia shakes her head silently.
Brando smiles gently. “My name’s Brando. I’m your uncle.”
Maybe it’s the softness in his tone or the easygoing look on his face, but some of Antonia’s natural curiosity flickers back to life.
“I already have an uncle. His name is Fabiano and he’s going to be a doctor.” She giggles, still half-hidden behind me. “He has blonde hair and blue eyes like you. You’re pretty too.”
“Your charm keeps breaking new records every day, Brando,” Maxim smirks.
Brando ignores Maxim and looks back at Antonia. “Fabiano is your mom’s brother. I’m your dad’s brother. We grew up together in this house. You can ask your mom.”
Antonia looks up at me, confused, her big eyes searching my face.
“Brando, please,” I whisper.
He used to be the only one who showed me any kindness. Now the cold look in his eyes sends ice down my spine. That friendship died a long time ago.
Brando extends a hand toward Antonia. “Want to play a game?”
She tilts her head, pouting. “What kind of game?”
“We have a one-year-old baby. Do you want to meet him?”
Antonia scrunches up her nose. “No. Adam has a one-year-old sister. He says little babies are boring. They don’t talk, they don’t play, they just eat, sleep, and poop.”
Maxim chuckles, throwing in another remark. “Hey, kid, you’re the only one in this family who actually agrees with me about babies. I like you.”
My stomach drops. Pure terror shoots through me. I lunge forward, scoop Antonia up, and back away fast.
Brando stands fast and shoots Maxim a hard glare.
Maxim laughs, hands up. “Relax, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not a pervert.”
Is he joking? This man can’t keep his dick in his pants. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve caught him screwing the maids.
I snap back immediately. “Of course you are.”
Maxim smirks, tilting his head in mock agreement. “Yeah, I am. But I swear on both my balls, no part of me ever touched a girl under eighteen.”
Antonia pipes up softly, “I like playing with balls.”
Maxim’s grin falters instantly, and Brando mutters a curse under his breath.