CHAPTER 18
Alessandro's POV
My stomach turned as I glared at the glass in my hand; it was full of alcohol.
My head kept replaying the same shit over and over and I couldn’t get it out.
I knew I was still in shock — I’d never expected today to come.
I clenched my jaw, downed the last bit, and threw the glass onto the table, not giving a shit if it smashed or not.
“We’ve got the wrong raggaza.”
“Dannatamente giusto l’hai fatto!” I growled, stopping my hand from rubbing my head and staring straight at Salvatore. Bruno was nowhere to be seen and that pissed me off more. “I want her out of here as soon as possible. We have no time to deal with another problem.”
Even though I’d wanted to find her for years, in the moment she stood in front of me I’d changed my mind.
Maybe I’d softened for a second because she looked vulnerable, but then I remembered what she did to me.
I wasn’t prepared for seeing Ariana again.
I didn’t know how to react. Forgive her?
Maybe. Make her life hell? Maybe that too.
But seeing her now brought back everything — the shit she put me through.
She looked different. Thin, pale, almost unrecognizable. Her face was carved out, hair longer than I remembered — I’d told her years ago to let it grow because I liked it long. She looked ill. I wondered if anyone had been looking after her.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Salvatore muttered. I snapped out of my reverie and glared at him. “We can’t just let her go after we practically abducted her. We don’t know who she is. For all we know, she’s a source that could put our dirty asses in fucking jail!”
I stared at him, baffled. How did he not know who Ariana was?
“Trust me, she’s not going to talk. Just get her out of here as soon as possible.” I grabbed a fistful of my hair and demanded.
“Why are you so eager to let her go? Do you know her?” Salvatore asked suddenly. I glared and stepped toward him, jaw tight, fists clenched.
“I don’t know — maybe I do. You tell me, Salvatore.”
“What the fuck do you mean?” His brows drew together. “Alessandro, do you know her?”
“Dang, that ragazza in there looks so familiar.” Bruno walked back in, confusion written on his face. “Alessandro, is she one of your hookups?” he chuckled.
I lost it, unloading a string of profanity at him. Bruno blinked, taken aback by my reaction. The room went quiet; both men looked between each other like they hadn’t expected me to snap.
“Alessandro, what is going on? Speak to us.” Salvatore demanded.
“We kidnapped Ariana...” I said.
“What?!”
“Fuck, I knew it!”
Bruno shrugged like he’d expected something. “It wasn’t us — it was Nico and Miller. The second I saw her I knew she was someone we knew.”
“That’s not the point...” Salvatore trailed off, eyes on me. “Ariana... as in your Ariana?”
My nostrils flared at the name being said like that.
“Not my Ariana, but yes — that Ariana.” I turned back to the table and sat down.
“Alessandro, this is big. You need to keep her so we can find her father. Don’t you want some revenge?”
“No. To hell with revenge. I don’t even want to look at that fucking family. It’s none of our business. We have bigger things to worry about, not this shit. Get rid of her.” I snapped.
“Don’t take drastic measures just off temper. Cool down, then we’ll discuss it.” Salvatore growled. “Bruno, let’s go.”
They turned to leave. My anger surged, ready to explode.
“I made it clear: I don’t want to get involved. Get her out of here or God help me, I will fucking kill her in front of you raggazi.”
Hours later, when the heat finally drained out of me, I’d had time to think.
I was on my way back to the estate after telling the men to handle the problem.
As much as I’d wanted her gone, the idea of her being gone again hurt — but I couldn’t afford weakness.
If I let this woman crumble me, the whole mafia would be at risk, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
After I ordered the boys to take care of Ariana, I went out and drank — a lot — and fucked someone quick to blow off steam. My mind was scattered. Ariana’s return had thrown everything into chaos. I never saw this coming.
I started wondering about the husband she left me for — the man she’d chosen over me. Could he not keep her?
Just as I stepped up to the estate, Bruno barreled over.
“Dude, where the fuck were you? We have another fucking problem!”
I narrowed my eyes. “What?”
“Just come with me, andiamo!”
***
I WALKED INTO THE BASEMENT to the sound of someone crying out — a high, desperate screech. In the center of the room a man was chained up, his clothes ripped to pieces. I stepped closer to get a better look and recognized him immediately.
Igor Kuznetsov.
“Ragazzi, just stop!” I laughed, watching him crumble in front of me. I walked up and planted my hands on my hips as he slowly looked up, beaten and tired. “A real wise guy, huh?”
“Wise guy my ass,” Bruno growled. “I don’t give a fuck who this motherfucker is. Ask him why he’s here today.”
I glanced over at Bruno, saw his anger flare, and knew this bastard had done something to piss me off. I locked my eyes back on Igor. A small, ugly smile tore across his slit lips.
“Privet, Alessandro. Nice to finally meet you,” he croaked, sarcasm and a thick Russian drawl both present.
Igor was Russian mafia — connected to Vicenzou’s old business. Vicenzou’s family had had dealings with Igor’s, and like the dickhead Vicenzou is, he’d left unfinished business that he’d dumped on me. I’d met Igor at events and clubs before, but I never associated with him. I didn’t want to.
He sighed and dropped his shoulders. Sweat soaked his face; his clothes were ruined. Cuts and gashes marred his skin — one cut over his eyebrow had torn flesh exposed.
“Likewise,” I said flat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Quite frankly, I have no fucking idea,” Igor chortled, then sighed. “Ask your suki.”
I moved away from the dickface and pulled the boys aside, away from his ears. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“One of our batches was on its way to Mexico,” Bruno said, looking at Igor with disgust. “Before it got there, this bastard got his hands on it and ruined the whole shipment. Alessandro — you’ve lost millions, and a number of our men.”
My jaw dropped. I stared at Bruno. This had happened again. I couldn’t sit back and pretend it wouldn’t happen again. My eyes narrowed on Igor, who smirked as if he’d already won. I surged forward, but Salvatore stopped me.
“He’s never broken the omertà,” Salvatore said. “So there’s no point.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck,” I snapped. “He’s going to speak, or tonight we release a body.”
“Alessandro, there’s more,” Salvatore cut in, and each interruption spiked my frustration. “What?”
“Igor previously worked for D’Angelo.” Salvatore whispered it, and my jaw clenched. That motherfucker — of course this tied back to him.
I lunged back at Igor and continued the torture. His screams filled the room while I watched him crumble and laughed, because the self-proclaimed wise man had been exposed. “You lost something valuable to me, so you’ll compensate,” I told him, watching the chain pull at his skin.
He laughed and shook his head, babbling his usual arrogance. I cut him off.
“You’ve lost nothing, you selfish prick,” he chuckled. “You were just being generous to me.”
“Generosity,” I said coldly. “To compensate, you give up omertà.”
His face fell. He shook his head violently. “I can’t do that,” he stammered.
“Yes you can, and you will. Or I’ll torture you more.
” I grabbed the mini vice and shoved one of his fingers into it.
I twisted. He screamed, a raw, animal sound.
“You might as well speak now, Igor, or you’ll lose all your damn fingers,” I laughed.
At that point I briefly wondered if I’d gone sane or if the room itself had gone mad.
“No...!” Igor cried. “I can’t... do that...”
“Why?” I paused, watching his face. “Who gave you the order?”
He shook his head, refusing. He whimpered in pain. The finger between the vice was already crushed, bloodless.
“I can’t say it... please stop!” he sobbed.
“Was it D’Angelo?” Salvatore suddenly interjected — and I let go of the vice to glare at him, stopping him in his tracks.
I stared hard at Salvatore. This was my problem. Not his. Not theirs. My anger throbbed behind my ribs.
“I... I do... don’t work for him anymore... he died years ago,” Igor whimpered behind us.
I stopped glaring at Salvatore and turned toward Igor, my eyes wide at his revelation.
My mind spun — it didn’t make any damn sense.
Salvatore’s eyes met mine for a brief second before he turned away and walked back to Igor, probably pressing him for more answers about D’Angelo.
But I wasn’t focused on the questions — only on what I’d just heard.
That son of a bitch was dead.
For years, I’d refused to chase revenge, convincing myself I was done.
But deep down, I still wanted it. Before I found out Ariana was alive, I spent years tracking D’Angelo — watching, waiting for the perfect moment to end it all.
But after learning she’d survived, I told myself I wouldn’t touch that family again.
Salvatore kept the files on them, though I never once opened them.
If I had, I’d have known this fucker was already rotting six feet under.
And now? Now I was furious. I wanted his death — by my hands.
How the fuck did he die?
“Salvatore!” I barked, storming out of the basement.
He followed quickly, footsteps echoing behind me. “What the fuck are we supposed to do with him?” he asked once we were out in the hall.
“I don’t give a shit about him,” I said sharply. “Release him or kill him.” I rubbed my chin with my finger, mind racing. “When I told you to bin those files — did you do it?”
Salvatore’s smirk was immediate. He clapped a rough hand on my shoulder. “You know,” he said, “for a boss, you’re pretty damn stupid sometimes. I hardly ever obey your orders.”
I glared at him, jaw tight.
“No, I didn’t bin them,” he admitted, a grin spreading across his face.
“Good. Thanks.” I slapped his cheek lightly, more as a warning than gratitude. “Get them to the office. I want to look at them.”
“Alessandro, there’s something else,” Salvatore said, stopping me before I could walk off. I turned, waiting.
“She hasn’t been let go. We transferred her to the hideout. Go and see her.” He patted my shoulder again like he was trying to motivate me.
I furrowed my brows and looked down, a heavy sigh escaping me. I should’ve known he wouldn’t actually release Ariana — not after realizing who she was.
I didn’t respond. I just walked away. Because even if a part of me wanted to see her again... I knew I wasn’t ready.