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"From what we've gathered, the same one. He's Don to another mafia family. Ruthless, violent, and incredibly dangerous."
"Tony, send me whatever you've got on Hunter Drucci," I demand, my voice dark and determined.
"I want to know everything about this bastard."
"Sure thing, boss" Tony replies, already pulling out his phone and scrolling through the files he's collected.
"I'll forward it all over to you right away."
"Thanks," I mutter, and as soon as the information pings onto my phone, I dive into it relentlessly.
Hunter Drucci is worse than I could have ever imagined.
His criminal record reads like a list of atrocities: drug trafficking, arms smuggling, money laundering, and more.
But as I dig deeper, it's the stories of his ex-wives that truly make my blood run cold.
Each one speaks of his cruelty and sadism, of the way he broke them down until they were mere shadows of their former selves.
"Jesus Christ," I whisper, my hands trembling from both rage and horror.
"This is the man Rosalie was supposed to marry? How the hell is he still walking free?"
"Connections, money, power... You know how it is in our world, boss," Tony says grimly.
“I do…” I say, now petrified for where Rosalie may be.
“Tony, I have to tell you something you must guard with your life until I sort out what needs to be done.”
“Sure, boss,” he says, leaning forward and looking worried. I tell him everything right from the start.
“So you’re in love with Rosalie Battaglia … Emily,” he repeats, his eyes widening at the conclusion.
“With all my heart. I made a mistake turning her away but believed she would go to her mother. She’s disappeared without a trace, and her mother is dead. So, tell me Tony. Where do you think she could be?”
“With only two people I can think of,” says Tony, putting into words my exact thoughts.
“Her father or Drucci. But boss, that’s what I need to tell you. She can’t be with her father.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“He put a hit on her when she ran.”
I find my blood turning cold. “Her own father?” I whisper, each word coming out more ragged than the last.
“To murder his own daughter?”
Tony nods. “Her father’s men would have killed her on sight. It must be Drucci and you know how Drucci is.”
“A man who likes collecting his dues,” I say, spitefully. “Even if it is women.”
“Strange thing isn’t it?” asks Tony, clucking his tongue with sympathy. “The cruelty men can reach.”
I nod, slowly. “There’s something else…” I say. “Cancel all your plans till we find her Tony. She’s pregnant.”
Tony’s face goes ashen white. “With your child?” he asks.
“With my child,” I repeat.
