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“The strongest.” I know what that order means for at least one person, but there is no choice in the matter if I wish to avoid a far bigger bloodbath. One or perhaps two deaths to prevent many.
In the past, I would not have thought twice about delivering such an order. Now, I find myself wondering what Bianca would think if she were here in the room with us. Would she look at me with those sad, judgmental eyes and ask me to reconsider my decision? Would she find me wanting if I refuse?
“I will not tolerate betrayal, Danelli.”Except from my wife. I shut down the inner taunt fast. “Fromanyone.”
He flinches at the sudden viciousness in my tone. “Yes, sir. I’m on it.”
He turns to leave, then pauses.
“Yes?” I bark out.
“I’m wondering why Rossi’s team was used in the attack on your club. And…” He swallows before adding, “Targeting your family here at the estate. Why commandeer someone else’s team rather than set up their own? And why his in particular?”
It is a good question from my second, and one I have been pondering too. “I do not know the answer to that particular question. But as to why specifically Rossi’s team was chosen, I believe that may have been in the hope of starting a war between two powerful families. Deflecting our attention from something else that may be about to happen.”
Another reason to keep Rossi alive. For now. He is a piece of the puzzle; I am certain of it. I just don’t know which part.
I wave a hand, dismissing Danelli. “Have the teams continue their search for information on the name Antonio. Get the Dartside PI team involved, too.”
Is there a chance the recent attack by Anders could be linked to the past? No DNA matching my parents’ crime scene was found at the club, or here at the estate, but that means nothing. Whoever ordered the hits on my family would be unlikely to have attended in person.
If the person who killed Bianca’s parents was after the Carlotti inheritance, then he or she failed miserably. But why bring my parents into the mix and kill them several years later? What could they have to do with it? Back then, I was young and intent on partying. I was the heir, not the Boss. I had no knowledge of Bianca and certainly no plans to marry her or bring the Carlotti inheritance into the Agosti business.
My wife’s family. My parents. My aunt. So much blood spilled already. And for what?
When I find the person or people responsible, there will be rivers of blood in retaliation. A war is brewing, and we have only seen the very beginning of the carnage.
7
“Courage is grace under pressure.”
Ernest Hemingway
Bianca
My first instinctwhen they shove me into this luxury prison and slam the door is to turn and bash my fists against the metal, shrieking until someone comes to let me out. Surely even Rio wouldn’t be monstrous enough to leave me down here alone forever. Would he?
But even as I swivel toward the now-barred entrance, I stop short. I thought I was alone in the suite. But I’m not.
Two women are seated quietly on the settee in the living area of the suite. They are both watching me carefully. One has a stethoscope draped around her neck, and the other is dressed in nurse’s scrubs.
Rio got me medical support? He locked me down here in a dungeon, threatened to kill me, and yet he’s arranged medical assistance? Nothing about Rio is ever easy or uncomplicated.
I fold my arms across my middle, feeling so many mixed emotions it’s a miracle I don’t spontaneously combust.
“I presume you’re here to check me over and ensure my baby is healthy?”
The woman in scrubs gives me a small smile and points toward the king-sized bed between them and me, and I can’t think of a reason not to comply. I cross the room and perch on the edge of the mattress. The one with the stethoscope looks less friendly. She starts forward while the other woman bends down to a bag on the low coffee table. She pulls out a blood pressure cuff and monitor and steps up with the obvious intention to attach it to my arm.
“I’ve just been kidnapped. Again. So, the reading might be a little high right now,” I quip.
The doctortsk-tsksme. “Don’t be childish, Mrs. Agosti,” she says, confirming my initial gut reaction. We willnotbe friends. “We’re here to help you and ensure the remainder of your pregnancy is as stress free as possible.”
Stress free? Stress fuckingfree?
She doesn’t seem to notice my incredulous expression.
“I’m Doctor Conner,” she continues smoothly, “and this is my assistant, Selina. Please cooperate, as that will be much better for the child. And for you.”
