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Although why had they brought them to this specific location? Something about that bugged Dante.
Hopefully, Morana already had the mole singled out. She’d been monitoring every outgoing call and message from the compound since he’d been back. He just hoped the fuckers who abducted them came to interrogate him soon so he could get Amara out of the place. Knowing everything that had happened to her here, he couldn’t even imagine everything happening inside her mind right then. Her eyes kept zoning in and out as she fought her demons, the scar on her neck stark against her paling skin, her hands gripping the chair with white knuckles.
Dante watched her closely. Knowing she was pregnant changed things. If he saw the slightest sign of things becoming too much, he’d have to figure some way out. The idiots hadn’t even checked him for weapons, assuming he’d been unarmed since he’d been in bed shirtless. He had a nasty little surprise waiting for them.
As if on cue, the door to the room opened. Amara’s eyes flew to it as she jumped a bit, her grip on the chair tightening before she visibly took a deep breath.
Hold on, baby. Just a little longer, Dante urged her silently.
Her breasts heaved under his shirt as she worked on her breathing, her eyes on the man who entered the room. Dante let his eyes go from her and focused on the man, switching gears in his mind. This was his interrogation.
Relaxing in the chair, he stayed silent as the stranger came in, wearing a black t-shirt and cargo pants and combat boots, a 9mm visible on his hip. It was a classic tactic – show the captive you were armed to instill fear of death. Dante was well-versed in these maneuvers. He stayed silent, watching the guy.
He squat down a few feet from him, ignoring Amara for now, focusing on him, which was good. He didn’t want them paying her any attention.
“Dante Maroni,” the man said in a singsong tone, the hint of an accent in his voice on the ‘t’. “In the flesh.”
“Oh, you’re a fan?” Dante chuckled easily. “You’ll have to free my hands for an autograph.” Let him think he had the power.
The man gave a grin, a fake gold tooth glinting on the side. Dante wished some stereotypes weren’t so cliché. “My bosses aren’t a fan. In fact, they aren’t very happy with you right now. You’re interfering with the business.”
Just the opening he needed. “You know, this is why people think mobsters don’t have manners. They could just have booked an appointment if they wanted to talk,” he drawled out casually.
The man tilted his head to the side. “Alright, so that’s how we’re playing this.” He straightened, walking towards Amara. Dante forced himself to stay relaxed as the man squat before her.
“You’re a pretty one,” he said conversationally. “I heard they did terrible things to you right here in this place. How does it feel to be back?”
Dante watched Amara still, watching him like a hawk, her gaze never straying from the man. “You guys need to stop tying women up. It’s getting old.”
That’s my girl. Dante felt pride fill him as he watched her play, hyper-focused on the man.
The man laughed. “Feisty. You think your boyfriend here will give me answers if I do things to you, hmm?”
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” Amara told the guy, staying calmer than Dante had hoped. “We just fuck occasionally.”
Like hell they did.
The man leaned closer to her. Dante tensed.
“In that case, fucking me in front of him shouldn’t be an issue.”
Oh, the bastard was good. But his girl was better.
“It would be,” Amara shrugged. “I’m allergic to assholes. Trauma and all, you know.”
The man let out a laugh, turning to look back at Dante. “I like her. Too bad I’ll have to hurt her to get you talking.”
Dante stayed silent, giving him a little smirk, ready to distract him so Amara coul
d work on her knot inconspicuously. “You’re good, I’ll give you that. Bringing us both here, using her to threaten me. Nice.”
The man stood up, walking to a table on the side, with a toolbox. Dante watched as Amara paled, a fine sheen of sweat on her face as she watched the table. He watched her take a quick breath, and slowly tug her hands against the ropes, loosening them even more. His gut tightened. He needed to speed it up.
“So,” he started casually. “What do you want to know?”
The man turned to look at him, his eyebrows up his forehead in surprise. “My bosses had a warehouse of… goods in your city. Last week, it burned to the ground.”
Dante frowned. “That wasn’t me.”
