Chapter 7Stacy°° °° °° °°I woke up with a throbbing headache, the kind that felt like a jackhammer was having a field day inside my skull. Squinting against the brightness of the room, I took in my surroundings, trying to piece together how the hell I ended up here.The bed I was lying on was massive—king-sized, plush, with ridiculously soft sheets that I would have appreciated under different circumstances. The room was elegant, far too flashy compared to the dingy places I’d been in lately. Soft light filtered through the expensive curtains, and everything was tastefully decorated, almost too perfect. For a moment, I wondered if I’d died and somehow ended up in a rich person’s heaven.Or hell. I mean, for the sins I’d committed, I might as well get a five-star suite in hell. Because I sure as hell didn’t remember checking into a five-star hotel anytime recently.I sat up slowly, wincing as the room spun for a second. Rubbing my temples, I tried to recall the events leading up
Chapter 8Vincenzo °° °° °° °°She didn’t say anything after that, which was good because I could use the silence. I moved to the doorway, then changed my mind, not sure if I could trust her not to dig a hole through the wall and crawl out. I just stood at the doorway, staring at Stacy as she sat there, examining her wrists which were still red from the cuffs, then as if realizing she had a job to make my life miserable, she stood up and went around the room, turning and scrutinizing things like this was a room she’d traveled and left unoccupied for the longest time. A small, infuriating smile played on her lips as she flipped one thing after the other. There were no weapons in here, I'd asked Vito to make sure of it, so I didn't try to stop her, instead, I let my mind wander off.That was until I heard her voice, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. “You look like you could use a drink,” Stacy said, her eyes flicking to the locked winery. “Something very strong.”“Why are you
Chapter 9 Stacy °° °° °° °° Vincenzo left the room minutes ago, the door clicking shut behind him with that deliberate, measured calm he always seemed to carry. I stayed put, not bothering to track his exit or try the door handle, just listening to the sound of his footsteps fading away. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to go—not that I would, even if I did. The smile tugging at the corner of my lips felt almost out of place in this situation, but I couldn’t help it. The room he left me in was a study in luxury, but it was luxury devoid of any personality. Sleek, polished walls, expensive furnitures, all in muted tones that could have been plucked from the pages of some high-end magazine But there was nothing here to suggest that anyone actually lived in this space. No personal belongings, no stray items left out of place—just an empty, pristine shell. It was like a beautifully wrapped gift box with nothing inside. Well, except that wooden toy with my captor’s name carved in
Chapter 10Vincenzo °° °° °° °°I spent another three hours with Aurelio and Vito, going over important footage and trying to extract any useful information from the bastard who drove Tristiano to his end. His story hadn’t changed—whether from years of practice in the art of lying or because he was telling the truth, I’d find out tomorrow.By the time I left Aurelio and Vito, it was nearly 11 PM. There were some personal findings I needed to make. Usually, I would return to my room to do this, but there was a ball of fire in that room—one that would talk me to madness if I went back. So, I opted for my study instead.I reached my study, the room was dark, lit only by the dim glow of the city outside, filtering through the large windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. I didn’t bother turning on the lights. The darkness was more comfortable, more familiar.I moved to the bar, pouring myself a glass of bourbon, the liquid amber catching the faint light as it swirled in the crys
Chapter 11Stacy°° °° °° °°The pain started as a low, nagging ache, the kind you could almost ignore if you will yourself to, and ignore it I did. But when I stretched and changed positions, the dull throb in my abdomen quickly morphed into something far more sinister. It felt like someone had ignited a bonfire in my lower belly, the flames licking my insides, churning them into a blistering, molten soup. The devilish cramp twisted through me, wrenching an involuntary gasp from my lips, and I shot up in bed, clutching my stomach. Panic surged alongside the pain, a sinking dread filling my chest as I felt something warm and wet beneath me.No. No, no, no.I whipped the duvet off in a frenzied motion, only to stare in horror at the sight beneath me. Blood. So much blood. Spreading like a sinister inkblot across the fabric. Staining Vincenzo’s pristine white sheets.I was furious—no, I was fuming. This was the first time I’d gotten my period in three months, and it had to happen now
Chapter 12Vincenzo°° °° °° °°“How the hell does something bleed so much without dying?”I grumbled the words to myself as I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my tie. The question wasn’t rhetorical. I genuinely couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’ve seen men lose a few pints of blood in a fight, and most of them didn’t make it. But this thing with women was something else entirely. Bleeding like a damn open faucet, yet she’s still there, breathing, talking, making my life hell. I finished adjusting my tie, then I straightened my hair. I was in one of the guest rooms, my frustration mounting with every second as I went over my life choices in the last seventy two hours of my life. The Irish Mob were expecting me today, even though they never responded to my message, and I couldn’t afford to show up late or worse—cancel. They’d sniff out weakness faster than a pack of wolves, and right now, I didn’t need a pack of barbarians breathing down my neck.Not when Tristano’s death
Chapter 13Stacy°° °° °° °°Years of following my dad into these kinds of meetings had trained me to spot the boss from a mile away. In this room filled with four stout men with smart tailored suits, I couldn’t find a single one with that quiet confidence that comes from knowing that everyone else in the room would jump at your command like the one Vincenzo has. None of them even resembled a Clyde Cummiskey.Vincenzo must know that too because he wasn’t being nice to any of the guys who were trying a little too hard to make him believe they were in charge. He simply brushed them off with curt nods and dismissive glances. Well, even if Vincenzo doesn’t know it, I’d made my mind to avoid saying anything that would draw attention to me more than this damn collar and cuffs were already doing. These men might as well carve out my captor’s eyes and hold it up in a stake for all I care. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a guy leaning against the far wall, his gaze fixed on us with
Chapter 14Vincenzo°° °° °° °°This was the kind of place that thrived on secrets and the power of men who operated outside the law—dimly lit corridors with a labyrinth of peeling paint and grime, many exits for emergencies and scattered weapons. I had always found a twisted sense of belonging in these places, a perverse comfort in the shadows. But not right now. Now, I was hunting.I moved through the narrow passage quietly, the scent of dampness clinging to the air, mingling with the acrid stench of gunpowder from the recent firefight. The bastard had escaped through a hidden door—a clever trick, but not clever enough. I had ways of finding people, even in the most rundown and crude places.As I approached the end of the corridor, faint voices and hurried footsteps reached my ears.Good. They hadn’t gotten far.I reached the end of the hallway where the passage split into two. I took the left without hesitation, trusting my instincts. The voices grew louder, more distinct. I cou