When the news broke that someone abducted my sister while she was on her trip to New York, I didn’t panic or give into the rage I felt. I put my best men on tracking her down, called in every favor I had, and scheduled a flight out to New York. I was in the air when I got the call from Ras that she’d made it back to Spain traumatized but alive and seemingly unharmed. We rerouted the plane. I made it home and held my sister in my arms for a long while.
Then I summoned her bodyguard and put a bullet in his head.
Ras was there when I did it. He can vouch I didn’t kill the guard because I was overcome with emotion. No, it was because I run a tight fucking ship, and I can’t afford to have 250 pounds of useless flesh on my team. He stopped providing value, so he ended up dead.
It’s that same levelheadedness that’s allowing me to keep my expression neutral as my little sister screams her head off at the sight of the woman I just claimed as mine.
Mari’s a teenager, but even with all those hormones, this isn’t a normal reaction.
Something is really fucking wrong.
I slam the office door shut behind me. “Mari.”
My sister jumps off my desk and runs to me. Her face is drained of blood, and her eyes are wide. “Dem, I know her,” she says in a trembling voice. “She’s the wife of the man who took me.”
My blood turns to ice.
I knew Ale Romero was lying about her name, but I never could have imagined this. Getting her into my bed had seemed like a more important endeavor than finding out the truth about her. After all, my own secrets were bound to overshadow hers, and I despised being a hypocrite.
Looks like I was wrong.
Looks like I lost my goddamn mind over a striking face and a body forged in the depths of my fantasies.
How could I have allowed this?
I pull Mari into my side and inhale her scent to temper the violent anger that jolts through me like a bolt of thunder. My nostrils flare. Even her familiar smell, the smell of home and everything that’s good in this wretched world, isn’t enough. Slowly, I move my gaze back to Ale.
She’s looking at us as if she’s seen a ghost.
I clench my fist by my side.
“I can explain,” she says, her voice a mere rasp.
I force a smile to twist my lips. “I’m sure this is all just a misunderstanding,” I say, squeezing Mari’s hip to let her know I’m lying. “Both of you, take a seat. I’ll get you some water.”
Ale’s face softens with relief. She’s bought it, which means she must think I’m a gullible idiot. Why wouldn’t she? All this time, she played me for a fool.
They sit down, and I head to the bar cart in the corner of my office. While the two of them stare at each other mutely, I type out a text to Ras. “Office. Urgent.”
Cazzo. The woman who I was inside of less than an hour ago is married—married—to the worthless pile of shit who abducted my sister while she was on a graduation trip to New York. Married to the man who murdered Mari’s best friend and took my sister to a basement to put her through what I suspect would have been hours of brutal torture. A sour taste floods my mouth. Did Ale follow her to Ibiza to finish the job? And I led her straight to my sister. Guilt wraps around my throat like a noose.
I open a small metal box hidden behind a whiskey bottle and take out a sedative. From experience, I know this one is tasteless when it’s dissolved. I fill two glasses with mineral water, crush the pill between my index finger and thumb, and drop the powder in one of the glasses. The bubbles mask any residue.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Martina,” Ale says behind me.
I have to stop and take a deep breath so that I don’t slap her across the face. How dare she say my sister’s name with that lying mouth?
She glances at me. I hand her the drugged water and put on another smile. I swear, each one costs me a year of life. It feels like a gash carved across my face.
I’m worried she’ll nurse the glass for longer than I can control myself, but she does me a favor by downing the entire thing in one go. There’s a slight tremble in her hands. I imagine tying them together with a rough rope and watching her make herself bleed by fighting against the restraints.
Mari takes a small sip and turns her face up to look at me. She’s waiting for my directions. My sweet, gentle sister.
When she got back to me, I vowed to her I’d make the culprits pay for what they did to Imogen and her. She didn’t know who took her. They’d knocked her out after they shot Imogen, and when she came to in that basement, the sedative hadn’t fully worn off, and her memory of the man was fuzzy. But she remembered the woman. The one who’d seemed like an accomplice until she’d shot the captor and helped her escape.
Mari doesn’t know why the woman helped her, but I’ve lived long enough to know that in our world selfless acts of kindness are as rare as a quiet night in Ibiza. No one does something like that if it’s not in their self-interest. Ale must have had an ulterior motive when she freed my sister.
And I’ll do whatever I must to figure it out.
Ale slumps against the chair. “I feel strange,” she says as her eyelids start to droop.
About fucking time.
I get on my haunches in front of her and curve my palms around the arms of the chair. I don’t trust myself to touch her right now. Martina doesn’t need to see how her brother deals with good-for-nothing liars. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
Her head lolls before she manages to bring it back up. “I can’t feel my legs and arms.”
For the first time since Mari screamed, I allow the mask to drop. A slow frown spreads over Ale’s face as she takes in my expression. “Damiano…what’s happening to me?”
“There’s a sedative spreading through your blood stream.”
Fear flashes in her eyes, and for a moment, she looks so terrified that I feel a faint pang of pity. But then I remember who she is and squash that pity like an annoying fly. “You promised me an explanation.”
She tries to nod. Her chin bumps against her chest. I push my fingers into her hair and pull her head back up to look at me. “I don’t need your promises,” I whisper. “I’ll get every last drop of truth out of you.”
Her body goes totally limp. Behind me, Mari lets out a strangled sob.
I let go of Ale, but when she starts to slide off the chair, I pick her up before she falls to the ground. Not because I care if she gets hurt, but because I can’t risk her banging her head and losing her memory. First, I need to get all of the information hidden in its confines.
Ras appears in the doorway. His gaze scans over Martina and I before halting on the body in my arms. “Should I call a doctor?”
Roughly, I pass Ale to him. “No. Turns out she’s the wife of the assassin who took Mari. Take her to my house and put her in the secure room.”
Ras’s brows shoot up his forehead. “Merda.”
“You were right,” I say. “I should have been more careful, but now we’ll finally figure out who’s behind the entire plot.”
Ras looks down at her. Suddenly, I want to rip her out of his arms, but I push the ridiculous feeling away. We slept together. Once. There’s no way I feel anything for this woman that would jeopardize my ability to interrogate her.
“What do I say to her friends? They’re all scheduled tonight.”
I move to my desk. “Tell them she left the island.”
“They won’t believe it.”
“Then do your fucking job and make them.”
I meet Ras’s hard gaze. He’s not offended by my tone. It’s worse. He’s concerned.
I check my watch. “It’s nearly eight. Mari, I promised to take you to your dance class,” I say roughly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my sister stand up. She’s barely said a word since she saw Ale.
“I can skip it,” she says, her eyes trained on the unconscious woman our cousin is holding. “I thought I saw her when I landed in Barcelona, but I was so tired, I was sure I was imagining it.”
The memory of the day Mari came back slams into me. I’d never seen my sister so shattered. It terrified me. The thought of her no longer being alive was so hard to stomach that I refused to entertain it, even on that day.
“I want you to go to your class. Señorita Perez is expecting you,” I say. My sister is still healing, and her progress has been tepid. I’ve just managed to convince her to return to her dance classes this week.
Mari tugs on the sleeves of her loose linen top, but I know she won’t protest further. My sister is unfailingly obedient to me. “Okay. I’ll go.”
There’s a sad note in her voice that tugs on my heart. “Hey. Come here for a second.” I open my arms wide.
She walks into my embrace and puts her cheek against my chest. “I’m sorry I screamed,” she mutters. “I couldn’t believe it was her. What is she doing here, Dem?”
“She works—worked here.”
“Was she looking for me?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” I kiss the top of her head. “You’re safe now. That woman won’t bring any harm to you.”
My sister steps away. “I don’t think she wanted to hurt me. I don’t think she and her husband got along.”
I stay silent. My sister doesn’t need to know how easy it is for a practiced criminal to put on an innocent act. Mari was born to the deadliest family in the sistema, but the stories of my father’s brutality disappeared with his and my mother’s deaths. I have no desire to share those stories with Mari. I’ve spent all my life protecting my sister from those who’d harm her, and that includes the ghosts of our past.
“We’ll take the back door,” I tell Ras. He nods and walks through the bookshelf that secretly opens to my private garage. While Mari gets into my car, I watch Ras start to put Ale in the back of his.
“Put her in the trunk,” I tell him.
“It’s a bumpy ride.”
I slam the door shut, so that Mari won’t hear. “Good. And string her up for me, just like Mari told us they did to her.”
Ras sniffs and purses his lips. “Maybe you should talk to her first.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t question your capo.” I don’t wait for his response before I slide into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition.
Before all this, I was thinking I’d take Ale out on a date tonight.
Looks like our date just got a whole lot more interesting.
