Chapter Three

MAXIMO

My Red.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since last night. She seemed so innocent…until our lips met. With her American accent and that damn optimism, she had no idea what she’d just gotten herself into by coming here.

But something about her kept gnawing at me. A nagging feeling I couldn’t shake. She looked… familiar.

I knew I hadn’t seen her before. I never forget faces, and it’s impossible to forget a face as perfect as hers. So why did I feel like I had? Why did just looking at her stir something dark and unsettled in the back of my mind? Why did it feel like my brain was trying to tell me something I needed to know, but my eyes and body weren’t paying attention?

A guttural scream snapped me back to reality.

I glanced over just as Luca snipped off the tip of Marco’s finger. His pathetic pleading filled the room, his cries bouncing off the damp concrete walls of his cell. It was almost pitiful. A former gang lord, now reduced to nothing in my custody.

That’s what happens when you mess with me.

“Are you ready to talk now?” I asked over his screams.

Marco sobbed, shaking his head. “Go f*ck yourself, Scar!”

I smirked despite the slow-burning anger curling in my gut. Marco was resilient. I had to give him that. Too bad he was only making his suffering more entertaining.

“Guess I’ll have to leave you to Luca’s mercy then,” I said, stretching lazily. “Your screams used to excite me, but now? Now, they just irritate me.”

“Then kill me already!” he shouted.

At that exact moment, Luca snipped off another fingertip. Marco’s body convulsed as his tortured groans echoed through the room.

I hummed, tilting my head. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Tears streaked his bloody face. “I can’t take this anymore. Please, just kill me.”

I walked toward him, crouching down so we were face to face. “You won’t die until I get what I want,” I murmured. “Until then, you’ll continue to be tortured until your body physically cannot take it anymore. But you won’t just die peacefully. I’ll make sure your death is slow and painful.”

I let the words sink in before continuing in a calm, measured voice.

“And it won’t end there. Your remains will be cut up into tiny little pieces, packaged into perfect little boxes, and shipped to your family in Monza. Tell me, Marco, will it be your daughter who opens the package? You know how kids love opening packages.”

A strangled sob tore from his throat. “Please. Not my wife. Not my kid…”

I sneered. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t kill them.” I let my smirk widen. “But by the time I’m done with them, they’ll wish I had.”

His breathing turned ragged.

“They have nothing to do with this,” he choked out.

I let out a dark chuckle. “You’re right. They don’t. This is your fault. You had the f*cking nerve to trespass into my territory. To attack my shipment. And now you expect mercy?”

He was silent, chest heaving.

“You should do the right thing, Marco. Give me the information I need. Or your innocent family will pay the price.”

A beat passed.

“There’s a rat among your men,” he whispered hoarsely, finally looking me in the eye.

The air in the room turned heavy.

My jaw tightened as I reached for the revolver tucked in my waistband, pressing the cold metal against his forehead.

“Who is it?” I snarled.

He whimpered. “I—I don’t know. But if you give me time, I’ll find out—”

I cocked the gun.

“You think I’m stupid?” My voice dropped to a growl. “You think I’d ever trust you?”

His entire body shook as he cried, and his pathetic tears only managed to make me even angrier.

“Please, Scar. I swear, I’ll find whoever the rat is. Just let me redeem myself—”

“You’re irredeemable,” I spat.

“I’ll do anything to keep my family safe,” he sobbed. “Please let me do this.”

I leaned back and pretended to consider it. Then, I smirked.

“Fine. I’ll give you twenty-four hours.”

Marco’s breath hitched in relief.

“Find this rat. Bring them to me. Fail, and you can start digging graves for your whole family, before I make you join them.”

ARIA

I paced the entire length of the hotel room, phone pressed to my ear as I called the number from the Milan housing website. My heart pounded as I prayed that the person on the other end spoke English.

After seeing the money Maximo left me and the text from my stepfather, I knew I had to find a place to stay. I couldn’t keep living out of a hotel.

I glanced at the stack of cash on the nightstand, heat creeping up my neck as memories of last night flashed through my mind. I’d practically begged Maximo for money, then ended up in his bed the same night.

God. The thought mortified me.

But the soreness between my legs reminded me of how good he felt.

I shook my head, forcing myself to focus.

I needed to find a permanent place. Somewhere hidden. Somewhere safe. I was a fugitive in my own home, just like my mother’s family.

A lump formed in my throat as I thought of them. Their rejection. Their cold, indifferent stares.

I was completely alone.

‘Wait for me.’

Maximo’s words from the letter came back to my mind. I wasn’t alone, which was crazy because I didn’t even know who he really was. If he wanted me to wait for him, why did he leave me a ridiculous amount of money I was scared to count? What would happen next after he got back?

A hoarse voice crackled through the phone, pulling me from my thoughts. “Hello?”

The accent was thick, the tone gruff like it belonged to an old woman.

“Hi, I got your number from a website,” I said, nervously rubbing my palms against my jeans.

“You want house?” she asked bluntly.

I exhaled in relief at the fact that she could at least communicate in English. “Yes.”

“I send you address. You come see for yourself. Then you pay.”

“Okay. Thank—”

Beep.

She ended the call.

I scoffed at her rudeness, but sure enough, a message with an address popped up on my screen. Without hesitation, I booked an Uber, then threw on a hoodie over my t-shirt and jeans. As I tied my shoelaces, another notification appeared. My driver was nearby.

Grabbing the wads of cash, I tucked them neatly into my purse and headed outside the hotel building. The day was bright and the sun was glaring harshly against the earth. It was almost too hot to be wearing a damn hoodie.

As I stepped onto the sidewalk, I spotted a black Honda Civic across the road that matched my driver’s description.

I pulled my hoodie up, keeping my head down as I walked toward the car. But then, a familiar feeling snaked its way up my spine, like a prickle of unease at the back of my neck.

Someone was following me.

Panic surged through my veins. I picked up my pace and rushed towards the car, my fingers itching to yank the car door open. But before I could, a strong hand clamped down on my arm.

I gasped, twisting and thrashing against the grip. The man let out a frustrated breath.

“Vai a dormire,” he growled.

A white handkerchief pressed against my nose, and a sharp, pungent scent filled my lungs. My struggles weakened. My limbs turned to jelly.

No, no, no.

My knees buckled as my body collapsing into his arms. Through my blurring vision, I saw black dress shoes step into my line of sight. Then came the sickening crack of metal striking flesh, a pained grunt from the man who held me, and suddenly, we were both falling… and falling…

And then, everything went dark.