Page 81 of The Kingpin’s Bride

Camilla was crying in high, silent gasps, face pressed against my neck. I tightened my grip instead of letting go.

“She’s four,” I said, voice raw. “You’re threatening a four-year-old.”

“She’s leverage.” He shoved the gun harder under my jaw. “And you’re the reason I had to keep running. You and that psycho you sold yourself to.”

I laughed once. It came out broken. “I didn’t sell myself. You did.”

His face twisted. He pulled the gun back just far enough to swing it. The barrel cracked across my cheekbone. White light exploded behind my eyes. I staggered but did not go down.

In the distance I heard shouting. Car doors. The heavy, coordinated movement of men who knew exactly what they were doing. Matteo’s teams had cleared the house.

Dario heard them too. His eyes flicked past my shoulder, calculating. Then he grabbed me, pulling me deeper into the trees, the gun now pressed to Camilla’s side instead of my head.

“Walk,” he ordered. “Or I start with her.”

I walked and held my palm over my sister’s eyes.

Every step was a negotiation with the pain in my face and the weight of my sister in my arms. Camilla had gone almost silent, the way she used to when Dario got loud in the old apartment. That scared me more than the gun.

We moved through the dark trees for what felt like forever but was probably less than a minute. Behind us the shouting got closer. I heard my name once, sharp and controlled and unmistakable.

Matteo.

The sound of his voice hit me harder than the gun had.

Dario heard it too. He cursed and moved faster, hauling me toward a second vehicle I could now see half-hidden under low branches. An older sedan. Dark color. The kind of car that disappeared in any city. He shoved me toward the passenger side, gun tight against Camilla.

“Get in. Both of you. Or I paint the trees with you.”

I looked at him over my sister’s head. My vision was swimming from the hit. Blood was running warm down my cheek. I had no clean options left.

I slid into the car with Camilla locked around me. Dario slammed the door, ran around to the driver’s side, and threw himself behind the wheel. The engine turned over hard. Headlights stayed off. He reversed too fast, branches scraping the sides of the car, then swung out onto a narrow access road that cut through the trees.

In the side mirror I saw the first of the black SUVs break from the main house drive and start after us. Dario saw it too. He laughed, short and ugly.

“Your husband is a very motivated man,” he said. “Wonder if he’ll still want you when I send you back in pieces.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Matteo

Dario Rizzo was right behind my girls.

I watched him close the distance, grab Morena by the hair, and slam her back against a tree. The gun came up under her chin. Then it shifted to Camilla.

Something in my vision went fucking white at the edges.

“Hold fire,” I said into the radio. My voice did not sound like my own. “He has the girl.”

Santino answered immediately. “Copy. We have eyes. Waiting on your call.”

I moved through the trees with two of my men flanking me. Every step was measured. Dario dragged them deeper into the trees toward a second vehicle. He was talking, low and ugly. Morena was answering him. I could not hear the words but I saw the way she held the child. Protective. Unwilling to let go even with a gun pressed to both of them.

He forced them into the passenger side of the sedan. I gave the order. “Take the tires. Do not hit the cabin.”

We managed to shred the front right as Dario tried to swing onto the access road. The sedan fishtailed hard and slammed into a low embankment of trees. Metal screamed. The engine died in a harsh, broken sound.

We were on them in seconds. Dario came out of the driver’s side shooting. One of my men put him down cleanly through the shoulder and the knee. He dropped, trying to raise the gun. I crossed the distance and put my boot on his wrist until the bones ground together and the weapon fell away.