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I stifle a cry as sharp pain sears me.
Christ—Christ.The temptation to let these men know they’re hurting me nearly fucking overwhelms me.
I don't do it. A voice in my head warns me to keep my cards close to my chest.
Their abuse will be ten times worse if I show weakness.
"What do you want from me?" I spit out.
I wish I could see. This fucking blindfold causes anxiety to gash a hole in my sternum.
A man in the front of the car sneers. "We’re doing whatthese two motherfuckersshould’ve done the first time."
The man to my right clears his throat. "We didn’t expect Medici to fly to Kansas."
"Yeah," the other man—without an Italian accent—says. "We couldn’t have prepared for that."
"Bullshit." One of the Italian men's voices echoes throughout the vehicle. "You knew it was a risk."
Ice-cold panic rakes through me.
I recognize these voices at once—my abductors.
With a roar, I jab the one sitting to my right in the ribs.
He coughs as his body slams against the window, jolting back from the impact.
The other non-Italian grabs my jaw. "Touch us again and see what happens."
One Italian man sneers at me. "You’ve got fight in you. We like that."
"More than your Little friends," another one clips out.
Realization pummels me with clenched fists.
I know who these men are—the Riccardis.
"Which one of you is Luigi?" I snarl. "Petrie? Giuseppe?"
Another one chortles out a laugh. "You’re quick."
"Not quick enough," another growls in that deadly Italian accent I hate so much. "If you had any brains, you wouldn’t have left Nonna’s house alone."
"How do you know about Nonna’s house?" I don't back down.
"We’ve been watching it ever since they wrote us off as dead. We know Ryder, Cyan, and Enzo are still there along with the extended Luciano family. Even Isabella’s new girlfriend is living there."
"Whore," another man grits out. "What kind of woman—a mother—runs off with a woman and leaves her husband in the lurch? Romeo should’ve taken her out to the pasture."
Wow. The Riccardis aren’t only kidnapping monsters.
They're sexist.
I clench my fists. "Let me go. I won’t tell anyone you took me."
"That’s what they all say." For some reason, I get the feeling that this is Giuseppe. Don't ask me how.I intuit it.
"You’re Giuseppe," I spit out.
