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"So she came here for lunch and then went to meet with the woman?" I was trying to figure out the events of the day.
Mother shook her head. “Lunch was a ruse. Nikita was afraid you wouldn’t allow her to attend the interview and asked for my help. We decided Mario would bring her here where Marilyn would pick her up in her car. I was at lunch with friends when Nikita called to say the meeting had been changed so I contacted Mario to bring her here as planned and we agreed to say we were having lunch together if you asked. She should have been back by now, and I’ve heard nothing.”
I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Is Mario here?”
“I’m here, Sir. I’ve been checking with a few of my contacts to see if they have heard anything.” Mario entered the living room and sat. “They don’t know anything.”
“Did you speak with this Marilyn woman?” I asked.
“I did, Sir. I waited with Miss Nikita and when they arrived, I spoke with both Marilyn and her driver Vincenzo. There was something familiar about him. I was sure I’d met him before, but I must have been wrong, I don’t know anyone from the school.”
“Was there anything else said that was off?”
Mario shook his head. “I’ve been going over everything since I found out Miss Nikita was missing, but there was nothing out of place. I’m sorry, Sir.”
“It’s not your fault, Mario.” I locked my eyes on Father. “I told you he’d wait to make his move.”
“You don’t know it’s him, Son.”
“It’s Calliro. He’s using her to get me, he wants revenge.”
“Don’t jump…”
Before Father could finish speaking, my phone pinged, indicating an incoming text. The number displayed was one I didn't know. I swiped to open the message and an image filled the screen that sent my heart to my knees.
I stared at the photo of Nikita strung up like a side of beef—naked. Her face was barely recognisable, black with bruises and both eyes were swollen shut. Blood dripped from a cut to the corner of her mouth.
Anger like I’d never known, and I’d been angry a lot in my life, burned through every cell in my body. I turned the phone to Gaetano who scowled, and then to my parents. Mother cried out and collapsed into father’s arms.
“This is my fault,” she sobbed.
I didn't answer, distracted by another text. Even though I had expected its arrival, the text exacerbated my anger and had me seeing red.
0400555222: You have two hours to meet me at the warehouse. If you don’t come alone, your wife is dead. But only after me and my men have had our fun with her.
Benvolio: Do you think I'm an idiot Calliro? Didn't you know our marriage wasn't one of love? Do what you will.
It sickened me to write the words, but I needed to hold the upper hand. Nikita had made me promise not to put myself and my men at risk should anything happen to her—very prophetic. But there was no way in hell I would leave her at the mercy of Calliro.
The warehouse he spoke of was in a derelict area in Balmain. It was where I’d killed his brother.
Minutes passed with no further communication from the man, but I knew it wouldn’t last.
"Gaetano, get the men here, but don't call Danila. I promised myself once he was retired he would stay that way. Mario, I need Father's men."
Both men immediately left the room—Gaetano to call my trusted men, Mario to call Father’s.
Calliro texted again as I knew he would.
0400555222: So, you know it’s me? Then, you will also know I don’t play games. You will come alone, my terms are not negotiable. Oh, by the way, you may think your union is not one of love, but your pretty little wife admitted she cares for you very much and says she is willing to die to keep you and your family safe. Would you really let that happen?”
The next text came in, this one had a video clip attached. I opened it and watched as Calliro dragged a knife down the length of Nikita's torso. Blood trickled out as the skin broke open. The wound appeared shallow, and the bleeding didn't appear to be life-threatening. I'd scraped a knife over enough bodies to know what I was watching was merely something done for show. Nevertheless, my wife's mutilation infuriated me. When he cupped one hand over her pussy and the other plucked at a nipple, I exploded in anger. The motherfucker would not see the end of the day.
0400555222: Two hours.
Gaetano calmed me down enough so I could watch the video with an analytical mind and look for some clue of where my wife might be being held. As I watched again, I wondered why Nikita wasn't screaming or fighting her abuser. She was no mouse so why was she so quiet? I knew firsthand the temper she had and how she would fight. Why did her body hang limp? Had she been drugged or was she already dead? Would my attempted rescue be in vain?
I studied the video again and prickles danced down my spine, but they weren't from dread. There was a small window in the short clip, and I could see a view I recognised. I'd been in that basement many times when Calliro had been part of the family. We'd used it to torture our enemies. It was his dead mother's home that he and his younger brother had inherited several years earlier.
