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‘Merda!’ I murmured, glaring at the man when he dug into the swollen flesh again.

Romano apologised profusely.

‘Don’t stop,’ I growled. It hurt like hell, but that wasn’t the reason for my frustration. I glared at the horizon, the jarring movement of the yacht not helping to make the painful process less excruciating.

‘How long will it take to get to Cala Verde?’ I asked my deputy Umberto, keen to get to my island off the coast of Sicily and the Malvini stronghold.

‘In this weather, close to six hours… We would have brought the chopper, but we were concerned about a suitable landing and the weather was not favourable.’

I nodded as the medic finally finished stitching my torn flesh and began to bandage the wound.

A tray of food arrived in the lounge. I feasted on the bread and cured meat, ravenous after the weeks spent in Vito’s prison.

I had been forced to listen to him, in that dank cell—battered and bruised and diminished—because I had been his prisoner. No doubt, he had enjoyed having me at his mercy. Why else would he have kept me alive for so long? But now he had to respect me, because of the woman secured in my stateroom.

‘What do you wish to do with the girl?’ Umberto asked, his expression sly.

‘To use her as a bargaining tool.’ My gaze connected with his. ‘She must not be touched. Tell the men she is my woman now,’ I added. Not true—but staking a claim to her was the best way to stop the men getting ideas.

Something pulsed in my chest I did not appreciate, at the memory of her soft hand on my brow that morning. Why had she stayed, when she could have run?

Umberto let out a harsh chuckle. ‘She is hot—it will be no hardship for you to fuck her to let Vito know who is boss now, eh?’

I scowled at the ugly remark. ‘I want a full accounting of the business while that bastard had me in chains,’ I said, changing the subject. The girl was my captive, nothing more. Her ill-considered decision to help me changed nothing.

‘It will be done immediately,’ he said, then added, ‘We received word Vito’s son was born this morning.’

Something kicked at my ribs—I ignored that, too. The child was not my family any more than Vito was now.

Our father, Salvatore Rocco, had discarded me in the most brutal way possible—because I was a bastard, the son of his mistress, not the son of the woman he had loved and married, as Vito was. The wife who had run from him and kept his child a secret for twelve years.

Until our father had discovered Vito’s existence, I had been his heir. But even so, when Vito had arrived on Isla Donna, a hollow-eyed teenager with so many scars, I had worshipped him as only a younger brother could. Those feelings were long gone, and they would never return.

‘Perhaps this will be to our advantage…’ Umberto mused. ‘Now he has more to lose?’

‘He already wants a truce.’ I polished off the last of the meal, gulping down the wine served with it.

Umberto nodded, relief flicking across his features. ‘This is good,’ he muttered.

The war between us had taken its toll on my men. But I had the upper hand now.

‘He wanted peace on his terms,’ I added. ‘But now I have the girl, he will listen to my terms.’

Umberto grinned. ‘We can charge a high ransom for her—she is precious to him, like his wife…’

‘We are not asking for a ransom, but for my share of the Rocco empire, which Vito stole from me,’ I said. ‘Once he has agreed to pay me what he owes, I will return the girl.’

I felt a pang of regret at the thought of letting her go—even though it made no sense. Why should I wish to keep her?

Yes, I desired her. The chemistry between us was hot enough to make me respond to her even in my agony. And in a strange way, she fascinated me… Why had she stayed to feed me those antibiotics? But she was just a woman, nothing more than a means to force Vito to pay his debt to me.

‘Should we contact him today?’ Umberto asked.

‘I have already sent a text letting him know I have the girl, but now I will let him stew for a while. He cannot attack while I have her. And I want him to suffer.’ I also had a lot to consider before I contacted Vito again.

The painkillers had finally begun to take effect as Dr Romano finished bandaging the wound and left.

I would never trust my brother, even if I could get him to trust me. Because I trusted no one. But I would have to negotiate with him to regain the legacy my father had ripped from me as a boy.