Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Carlo raises his hand again, as if I’m too stupid to argue with. Frankie growls. I’m surprised to hear the sound coming from such a friendly man. Francisco’s son holds his ground, making sure that Carlo knows not to hit me again.
“If you touch her again…” Frankie swears.
“What will you do?” Carlo says with a laugh.
Despite all of Carlo’s anger, he can’t get to me without moving Frankie out of the way. I don’t feel safe, but at least I’m spared another blow to the face.
“If you hate my father so much, you should take your anger out on him, not Marlena,” Frankie suggests.
“Oh, I will,” Carlo promises. “Just as soon as I’m done with the three of you.” He points at me as if I’m the one who started it. “She has to answer for the sins of her father first.”
From the corner of the room, Brandon shouts again. I can see him struggling with whatever restraints are holding him down. He’s draped in shadow, but he’s making a big scene. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he would just fade away into the woodwork and maybe take this opportunity to make a run for it.
Instead, he pushes himself up into a sitting position. Only then can I see his face, and all the bloody welts that dot his forehead. A wellspring of anger opens up within me, and I see red. I want this monster to pay for what he’s done, and suddenly I’m glad that my father killed his brother.
One of Carlo’s men walks over to Brandon.
“No!” I shout, darting toward them.
Another one of the thugs wraps his arms around me, holding me in place so I can watch. I stare helplessly as the first man punches Brandon in the face. My little brother goes down, out like a light.
I crumple to the ground, unable to bear what they are doing to my brother. The man next to me grabs me by the shoulder, hauling me to my feet. The situation is worse than I thought. I can’t stand to see Brandon hurt, but it looks like I have no choice.
Frankie springs into action, pushing against my captor with his shoulder. I stumble free, desperate to run to Brandon’s side. But Frankie won’t let me. He’s the only thing standing between me and Carlo’s men, and he means to keep it that way.
CHAPTER 40
FRANCISCO
We pull up outside the bar and find the car Marcello has stolen empty. There are no signs of Frankie or Marlena. Giovanni goes into the bar to see if he can get some answers. I know better than to show my face in there. It’s a hangout for Andretti’s men, and I don’t want to get sidetracked. If something pops off, Giovanni will call for me.
The rest of our men show up a minute later and fan out to search the parking lot. I’m pacing angrily beside my car. All my pent-up anger has nowhere to go. Giovanni comes back outside, shaking his head.
He’s dragging one of Andretti’s soldiers with him. The man is already drunk and pleading with Giovanni to let him go. I let loose several hard punches, connecting with the man’s stomach, jaw, and shoulder. Giovanni releases him, and he falls to his knees, cowering before me.
“Where’s my wife?” I demand.
“I don’t know!” the soldier shouts, begging me for mercy.
I turn away, furious that I can’t find any answers. Suddenly, my phone rings. It’s the same number I contacted Andretti at. I snatch at it, turning it on speaker so that Giovanni can hear.
“Andretti!” I growl, foaming at the mouth.
“I changed my mind,” Andretti says. “I have your family.”
“I know you do,” I swear. “Where are they?”
“I’ll send you their location,” Andretti replies. “But you have to come alone. If I see anyone else, I’ll shoot them dead before you get in the door.”
I look at Giovanni, and he nods.
“If you hurt her…” I begin.
“I want to talk to you,” Andretti says. I wonder if he’s being reasonable, but I can’t tell because I’m blinded by anger. I assume he’s going to kill all of us, and that this façade of cooperation is just a trap.
“Send me the location,” I demand.
A moment later, the call switches off and I get a text pin. I press my finger to the map, copy and paste it into a text for Giovanni. Then, I get into my car and drive away. I’m not paying any attention to anything but the GPS. It’s taking me to the warehouse district, the perfect place to conduct illegitimate business in private.
I step on the gas, burning through the short distance in record time. As I pull up to the warehouse in question, I notice a single green minivan parked out front. The door is open as if the passengers didn’t bother to shut it.