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“You were texting her,” Mateo’s voice is so fucking angry, and I barely stop myself from punching him.
I flick my gaze to him and then look back at Massimo who is nodding as if trying to coax me to keep talking. I take a deep shuddering breath because it gets worse. So much fucking worse.
“I was positioned so I could see most of the parking lot and the back door. There was a screech of tires and then two men come out the back carrying someone. They threw her in, and I moved closer.” My voice cracks, “They have her.”
Mateo roars, “Who the fuck has our woman?”
I narrow my eyes at my brother and scoff, “Our woman? You mean the one you told, a few days ago, that she means nothing to us? The one you called a whore?”
I’m about to lose my shit and I don’t think anyone is going to be able to stop me. I need blood and if I can’t have the blood of the people who kidnapped Viola, then the blood of the man who hurt her, brother or not, will have to do.
I take a step closer to Mateo, but Massimo is there to stop me. He gives me another shake. “Who took her? Making our brother bleed isn’t going to help us find her. We need to find her,” there’s a note of desperation in his tone which resonates with me.
I look into Massimo’s eyes, so much like mine, and try to stand strong. “I’m almost positive one of the men who grabbed her works for Martinez.”
Massimo lets go of me and spins around to look at Mateo. Is he looking at him to accuse him of putting Viola in danger? It would be accurate as fuck if he is. I can’t help but watch on gleefully. Massimo might be the sweet one of us, but threatening his heart? Putting her in danger?
That might as well be a death sentence sanctioned by the angels themselves.
I don’t expect to witness Mateo crumble in front of us. He drops to his knees and my instincts have me rushing to him.
“Fuck,” Mateo wails, the sound so fucking wounded and full of pain that I feel it in my own soul. “This is my fault,” he whispers.
His eyes slide closed, and I can feel his guilt and shame like it’s a living thing pulsing around us. The three of us have always been in tune. We haven’t always needed to talk to know where we stand. This is no different.
Without opening his eyes, he asks me, “I’m not trying to question you or what you saw, but are you sure?”
“Yes,” I push the word past my lips because I’ve seen the slimy weasel who put his hands on our woman standing with Martinez.
Mateo’s head drops forward as he rests his chin against his chest and takes a few deep breaths. When he stands up, he does it slowly and we help him. The look in his eyes promises destruction and death when he looks at me and then Massimo.
If I didn’t know the man, if he wasn’t my brother, I would be scared of him right now.
My mouth drops open when he brushes off his suit jacket, straightening the cuffs and then strides back to his desk calmly. He sits and takes another deep breath. Before I can berate him and ask him what the fuck he’s doing, his phone rings.
With the press of one button, he puts the call on speaker and shoots me a censuring look. “Falsini,” my brother barks out.
A raspy laugh fills the room, and my gut is screaming at me. I know exactly who is on the other end of the line. The man makes a tsking sound when he’s done laughing, which has me sharing a look with Massimo.
“Mateo,” the man sneers my brother’s name as if he’s an errant child. “It seems I have something of value to you.”
I start to lunge toward the phone, but Massimo catches me and gives me a fierce look. He has a point, it’s not like I can reach through the phone and rip the bastard’s throat out. No. I’ll have to do it in person.
I can’t fucking wait.
“I don’t like being cheated,” Martinez continues when our brother doesn’t say anything. “I think the only way this goes down, fairly,” I almost scoff, “is if the money I paid for those overpriced items is returned to me.”
“We don’t do refunds,” Mateo replies smoothly.
That raspy fucking laugh is back and my fists clench at my sides. “Refund?” Martinez laughs harder. “I don’t want a refund. I’m going to keep the product and you’ll be giving me my money back. Simple.”
“No,” there’s no room for argument in Mateo’s voice.
The sound of a woman, our woman, screaming cuts through for a moment before Martinez hangs up and it feels like my stomach drops to the floor.
CHAPTER 13
MASSIMO
