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“She was mine since her birth,” I snarl. I can feel Sal and Nico moving to my shoulders, ready to hold me back.
Or ready to pump him full of lead.
The Irishman makes a noise. “For shame, Elio. Surely you know if I don’t return to my home, the precious woman in questionis going to meet the same fate? What’s the vow? In life as in death?”
“In sickness and in health,” I rasp.
He shrugs. “Same thing.”
“What did you to do her?”
The time for games has ended. I do not wish to talk to this asshole for one moment longer.
I need to find my wife.
“I did nothin’ yet. Can’t guarantee that’ll be the case later. But do us all a favor there, Elio Rossi. Don’t try to be husband of the year. Don’t come after her. Because if you do,” he leans forward.
I step forward as well.
“if you do, I don’t care about the rules of engagement. I don’t care about the code, or honor among thieves. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill your dirty, unwashed family. I’ll kill all of them, including the family you don’t know exists yet,” he says, shooting a glance at Sal.
Sal must react, because the Irishman’s eyes twinkle. “Yes, I bet that burns, doesn’t it? Turns out you’re not nearly the spymaster you think you are, no? I know exactly who I’m speaking of. But you don’t, do you, Salvatore De Luca?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Gia snaps. “Where’s Caterina?”
MacAntyre scoffs. “As if I’d tell you. Bitch Queen.”
He straightens and puts his phone back in his pocket. “All’s I’m sayin’ is that should one of you assholes decide to be a hero, you’ll fuckin’ regret it. You’ll live to see everyone you want die,and I’ll laugh on your graves. Except yours.” He turns to point to me. “On your grave, I’ll fuck the wife I was promised.”
With that, the Irish gang leader turns. He nods at the guards who still have their guns trained on him.
And he walks out of my driveway.
29
CATERINA
I’m tied to a bed.
It’s the only thing that I can recognize at the moment. I’m tied to a bed, my head hurts like the devil, and I’m wearing something that itches like crazy.
I moan. “Jesus,” I mutter. “What happened?”
“Good morning, beauty,” a voice with a lilting accent says.
My eyes snap open.
My head is pulsing with pain, and I grimace against it, but there’s a man at the edge of the bed.
A man in a colorful shirt wearing pants with a tactical belt on it.
He’s not handsome. Not in the conventional sense. He has dark red hair, flashing blue eyes, and the ears of a boxer. He smirks at me, his lips curling up in a smile, and he moves at the edge of the bed.
I realize in that moment that he’s not wearing a shirt.
He’s absolutely covered in tattoos.
They ripple over every inch of his skin. I’m used to tattoos. I like Elio’s tattoos.
