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“Yet here you are, still calling him boss,” I whisper. “You’re not fit to overthrow anything, much less take over Luca’s business.”

His eyes flash. He leans down and laughs harshly in my face.

“I’ve mapped this out for ages, bitch. Long before you walked through Everhart’s doors. I should’ve been promoted the minute they saw the first brain farts from fucking Franco. It’s not my fault I had to play kiss-ass just so his three little princesses could feel important enough to sit in daddy’s chair.”

I clasp my hands together tightly, wondering if I’m ragey enough to break these bindings by sheer willpower.

“Luca was always important.” I blink back tears from the corners of my eyes. “Especially to me.”

“How nice. Who knows if he can say the same about you. Kid’s never had a serious relationship in his life.” He scratches his head. “Why would he start with some random chick he picked up in a garage? Nobody buys this shit, least of all me. If he’s not even smart with expanding his own family, what makes you think he can run one with millions on the line?”

The words cut deep.

He’s not just being cruel this time, but honest.

It’s true, I’ve only been a Ferrazzo for a little while, and it hasn’t been peachy.

Luca has his family to worry about, his brothers and men. They’re his world and so is their legacy.

What if I’m just second fiddle after all?

Sure, he might care, but at the end of the day—

“Not true, not true,” a pained voice mutters. “…never seen the boss so lit. So happy.” Bone, talking through a fever dream of pain.

He goes quiet from the effort.

All of it for me.

My eyes fog with a different type of tears. I know he’s so right.

I know it in my core.

The only reason I’m in this mess is because it has to be true.

If Luca Ferrazzo didn’t love me, this wouldn’t be happening. He was in the van outside, trying to find some way in to rescue me.

He’s still out there, too, desperate as ever to find a way out.

How can I doubt that?

Why would I do anything less than fight?

The tears break me now, rolling down my cheeks and off my chin, soaking my pink cardigan. It’s been dirtied up and torn over the last few hours.

Tonight’s award for ugly crying goes to yours truly.

My hair falls in front of my face. Though I try to sweep it back as best I can, it doesn’t stay put for long because I’m shaking too hard.

I might pass out—

But that gives me an idea.

Once I get my bearings, I slowly relax every muscle. Easier than it sounds after crying my eyes out.

Just like my window warning, there’s only one chance to do this with my hands and feet tied. I shut my eyes and slump over, going limp.

“Not the fuck again. Thought she was done conking out.” Bufalo, ever so concerned about the health of his bait, leans over me.