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“He doesn’t take emotions into consideration. Emotional warfare is far more effective in this case than open violence.”

“Not as much fun if you ask me.”

I shook my head. “Oh, it’s fun for me, trust me.”

Savio snorted. “I’ll go take a shower. You have whatever kind of fun you prefer.”

He sauntered off and I stepped into Samuel’s cell. His wrists and ankles were tied together, but his eyes were open in his bloody face and full of hatred. “You fucking bastard,” he rasped.

I smiled. “I’d be careful with the insults if I were you.”

“Fuck you,” Samuel spat. “As if anything I say matters. You’re going to torture me to death anyway.”

I knelt beside him. “I don’t think that’s the right punishment for you, Sam.”

Fear replaced the hatred in his eyes. He arched up. “Don’t! Don’t you dare touch her.”

I straightened. “Someone will have to suffer for this. And I know you will suffer twice as much if I hurt your twin.”

“No! Torture me. Kill me.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option. You will return to the Outfit with the memory of your sister’s screams.”

Samuel froze. “No,” he gasped out.

I turned.

“Remo!” he roared, but I closed the cell door.

I stepped into Serafina’s cell. She was pale and still so painstakingly proud and beautiful, I allowed myself a moment to admire her.

She tilted her head toward me, her blue eyes burning with emotion. “Samuel will be safe?”

“By my honor.”

Her lips curled, but she didn’t say anything.

“I hope you can be convincing. I want your best screams.”

Her eyes narrowed briefly, giving me a fucking kick as usual. It was so much better than her desperate surrender.

She closed her eyes, chest heaving, elegant throat flexing.

I needed to own this woman. Body and soul and everything else she could offer. I fucking burned with the desire to possess her in every way possible.

Finally, Serafina screamed, and it was so fucking real that my body reacted to the sound, but not in a way it usually did, not with excitement and the thrill of the hunt. There was something close to revulsion filling my body, hearing her agonized cries and imagining they were real.

My hands curled to fists, my muscles tensing because a deeply buried instinct wanted me to protect her from whatever caused those screams. Unfortunately for her, nothing could protect her from me.

I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. I stalked toward her, gripped her arm. “Enough,” I growled, breathing harshly.

Serafina’s eyes snapped open. They searched my face, and a second too late I realized she got deeper than anyone was allowed. “Enough,” I repeated, my voice shaking with rage and confusion.

“Enough?” she whispered so softly. The sound was like a fucking caress.

Maybe I should end it now. Do what Nino said, end this fucking game. Get rid of Serafina and Samuel both.

I cupped her head and pressed my forehead to hers. She trembled, overwhelmed.

“Maybe I should kill you.”

“Maybe,” she breathed. “But you won’t.”

I should have contradicted her, but she was right and she knew it.

“You promised.”

I pulled back from her. “And I will keep my promise. I’ll release your brother now. I’ll have one of my men fly him and the corpses to Kansas City. How he gets back to Outfit territory from there is his own problem.”

She nodded.

“Come,” I ordered.

I didn’t touch her as I led her back to her bedroom. She moved toward the window and perched on the windowsill, pulling her legs against her chest. I stopped with my fingers against the light switch then lowered them, leaving the room in the dark.

Serafina twisted her head, staring at me. She was backlit by the silver moonlight as she perched in the window frame. She’d never looked more like an angel than in this fucking moment, and I realized I was on a precarious path.

Her whispered words broke the silence. “I wonder whose game is more dangerous, yours or mine, Remo?”

CHAPTER 14

SERAFINA

Over the next couple of days, Remo kept his distance. We didn’t go on runs, and Kiara or one of his brothers brought me food.

The look in his eyes when I’d screamed in the basement, it was difficult to describe, but I knew for some reason it had bothered him.

Nino had informed me this morning that Samuel was back in Minneapolis. I believed him. Remo had promised and despite my difficult feelings toward the Capo, I knew he’d keep this promise. I also knew that Samuel and my family were suffering every day I was here.

Nino treated me even colder than before—if that was even possible. I had a feeling things between Remo and him were strained because of Samuel. Nino probably would have killed my brother. It was the obvious solution, the one Dante would have chosen. But Remo … he was unpredictable. Cruel. Fierce.

I didn’t understand him.

If he’d tortured and killed Samuel, I would have hated him with brutal abandon, would have done anything I could to kill him. But he hadn’t. I was scared about his motives, but more than that … I was scared because a twisted part of me was grateful. I wasn’t sure exactly why, but Remo had done this because of me.

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