Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Seriously?” Dario asks. “Falco is his second name?”
“Yes. It’s the way his mother wanted it,” I reply.
Just as Dario starts to type, Carlo says, “There’s a message from Stefano on your phone.”
As I walk to Carlo, I tell Dario, “Trace the following number.” I ramble the number to him before grabbing my phone from Carlo.
Opening the message, there’s a video. I press play.
Intense pain shudders through me when I see Gabriella hanging from a ceiling. She’s straining against the ropes around her wrists, then I hear Stefano say, “Filippo, take off her dress.”
Christ.
No.
Don’t force me to watch the fuckers rape her.
Gabriella tries in vain to free herself, and it makes my fucking heart bleed.
A man grabs hold of her to keep her still, and Filippo starts to cut the dress from her body.
Amused laughter sounds up from Stefano, but I can’t see him.
I’m going to fucking tear him apart.
I watch as the emotionless mask settles over Gabriella’s face, and she stops struggling. She just stares ahead at something I can’t see.
They rip the dress off her, then the stubborn defiance that made me fall for her begins to burn in her eyes.
She lifts her chin higher, not giving them anything.
Christ, my little spitfire.
“Damiano?” Carlo asks, stepping closer.
“Stay back,” I bark as I move away from him so he can’t see the screen.
I watch as Stefano presses something to her stomach, and then Filippo fucking staples it to her.
Step down or she will die.
The recording stops, and I lock the screen of my phone before I toss the device at Carlo.
The rage pouring into my veins burns hotter than the sun.
The footage of Gabriella hanging helplessly in a fucking cold room where men are going to torture her pushes me to my limits.
I stalk out of the armory and keep going until I walk into the lining of trees.
Only when I’m sure I’m alone, and no one will see me, do I suck in a shuddering breath before letting out a heartbreaking groan.
Gabriella.
I close my eyes as wave after wave of pain hits, and it feels like someone’s trying to claw my heart out of my chest.
La mia regina.
My entire body trembles, and it takes more strength than I have to push all the pain down.
I suck in a desperate breath, and tilting my head back, I stare at the treetops.
You’re the Capo dei Capi.
The responsibility for the family rests on your shoulders.
I take another deep breath.
There’s no stepping down. You will face this head-on.
Whatever happens, you will stay strong.
I shake my head because, for the first time in my life, I’m faced with an impossible situation.
Gabriella or the family.
“Damiano,” Angelo calls.
I glance over my shoulder and watch as the four capos walk toward me.
Squaring my shoulders, I turn around so I can face them.
They stop in front of me, and Angelo says, “An attack on you is an attack on all of us. We are a family. Tell us what you want us to do so we can bring Gabriella home.”
I stare at them, and lifting my chin, I focus on Dario. “Find out where Stefano is hiding.”
I look at Angelo and Franco. “Get every available man ready for war. Take my mother, your women, and the children and place them in a safe house. We don’t need anyone else being taken.”
Lastly, I turn my attention to Renzo. “I want every weapon you can get your hands on.”
They all nod, and turning around, they walk away to carry out the orders.
I head back to the armory, and when I step inside, I hear my phone buzz.
Christ.
My eyes touch on Carlo’s before I take the device from him.
Sucking in a deep breath, I brace myself for the worst before I open the message.
There’s another video, and I press play.
I watch as a man steps in behind Gabriella. I take in every single fucking detail about him.
He’s shorter than average. Brown hair in a buzz cut. The usual combat uniform. Gloves.
When I catch glimpses of a cattle prod, my fist tightens around my phone.
Fuck.
When he presses the prod to her back, I’m forced to watch as every muscle in Gabriella’s body strains while she convulses horribly.
When it stops breaths explode from her before she presses her lips tightly together and lifts her chin.
Jesus, she’s so fucking strong.
“Again,” I hear someone order.
She’s electrocuted three more times, and when a wounded sound escapes her, my heart fucking shatters.
“One more,” the order comes again.
No. Jesus, stop.
It hurts more than anything I’ve ever endured to watch as Gabriella convulses and pain tightens her features. When it stops, her head falls forward, and I hear her gasping for air.
Christ, I wish I could swap places with her.
“Turn her around so her back is to the camera,” the other fucker says.
He turns Gabriella until I see her back where the five burn marks mar her skin.