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His second call was to Giancarlo, who was in charge of their family's personal security. Cesare would bet his life that his eldest brother still had bodyguards shadowing Penelope's every move even if they were no longer betrothed—-and he was right.
"I'll text you the number of Penelope's head of security." Giancarlo made the offer as soon as he realized what had happened. "Do you need anything else?"
"Prayers." And Cesare was deadly serious. "I need you to pray that I still have a shot at getting her back."
"Dio sia con te, fratello." God be with you, brother.
And finally, his last call was to a number he had blocked almost a month ago.
Please pick up. Per favore, tesoro. Pick up. Please.
But her phone only kept ringing until it went into voice mail.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He dialed the number from Giancarlo's text, but the tension gripping his chest didn't fucking loosen even as Penelope's bodyguard answered his call on the first ring—-
"Mi dispiace, signore."
And that was because...a part of him had already known he had his punishment coming.
No, Dio, no.
It wasn't just the words from Penelope's bodyguard that made his blood run cold. It was also the noise he heard in the background. The wailing of sirens and law enforcement officers radioing in details of a crime scene. Ambulance doors being thrown open and first responders wheeling out stretchers.
He fucking knew what all of those could mean—-
Please. God. Please.
"Just fucking tell me," Cesare said rawly. "Is she safe? Is my Penelope alive?"
Chapter Fifteen
Penelope
I'M NOT SURE HOW MUCHtime has passed since the sound of gunshots had caused guys in suits to come barging into Greg's room. But by that time, it was too late.
