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“Luca, stop!”
Three sets of strong arms gripped me. I struggled against them like a wild animal, roaring curses and threats. Completely out of control.
I should’ve been worried about my men seeing me lose it, but none of that leadership crap mattered to the beast tearing away at my insides. All I wanted was to cause pain. The same pain I imagined Becka could be going through. She’d been mine to protect and I failed. The only good thing in my life and I let her slip through my fingers. If she died I wouldn’t want to continue life without her. The entire world would go dark without her light to brighten it.
“Luca this won’t help her!”
Someone’s voice—I wasn’t sure whose— cut into my fit of rage. Heaving for air I stilled. They were right. I needed to pull myself together. I needed to become the mafia man I’d been. Always calm, collected and in total control.
Emotionless. Hard. Cold.
I’m sorry baby.
For just one night I needed to be the man I was before she came into my life. A cold-blooded killer hell bent on completing a task, placing all emotions aside. No, banishing them.
The man she brought out in me I placed six feet under as the beast threw dirt over his grave. I only hoped the man she found deep inside, and showed there was more to life than blood, pain, loneliness and hopelessness, would be able to crawl back out. Because the dark I was about to immerse myself into felt all too familiar.
Standing tall, I shrugged off the lingering hands, hardened everything inside and out. Ripping off my bow tie I fixed my coat and leveled everyone with cold determination.
Matteo held up his phone that now showed a blinking dot among a sea of warehouses. He met my gaze with the same intensity.
“Let’s go get what’s mine.” My voice came out colder and harder than the marble tiles I walked on.
