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
Chapter 15Vincenzo °° °° °° °°“Vincenzo,” he drawled, his Irish accent thick, more pronounced now, as if he were savoring every syllable. “You know, I’ve heard a lot about you, Mancini. Crawling between women’s thighs like a fucking snake.” He grinned, flashing teeth that seemed too white for a man of his nature. “You cleaned up nicely, I must confess I could use your charms with women.”I snorted, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The flame from the match briefly illuminated his face, casting shadows that danced in his eyes. They were sharp, glinting with amusement, as if he found this entire situation entertaining.This fucker’s enjoying himself.I took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs before blowing it out slowly. The wind, cold and biting, whipped the smoke away into the night, leaving the scent of burning tobacco mingling with the stench of blood and death.“Funny,” I said in an emotionless tone, the words burning my lips. “You must know so much about me, ye
Chapter 16Stacy°° °° °° °°There’s nothing quite like that post-period horniness—a ravenous itch you just can’t scratch, especially when you’re lying in bed with your bones still aching like a 90-year-old grandma who fell down the stairs. It’s been a week since that damn incident with Vincenzo and his Irish bastards, a week since I thought I’d die thrice in the same day, a week since I survived that damn crash— and my body still feels like it was wrung out and left to dry. Aurelio might as well have smirked at me while driving us into that wreck; I’m still convinced the bastard did it on purpose. A little “oops” to keep me in line, silenced and out of the way.Well, mission accomplished. By the time I woke up that day, I was back in Vincenzo’s little slice of hell—a room so perfect it makes me want to scream. The bandage on my head was tight enough to make my brain throb, but what really got under my skin was the collar still around my neck, his name etched into it like I’m som