“You got it, Boss. The second you get there, call me.”
“We will.” I hung up and sent my sister and Caitlin another text message.
“Where the fuck are they?” Fear trickled up and down my spine.
“We’re almost there.” Nicco pulled off the highway and followed the road down to the cabin, his security car following behind. At least we had back up. Four pairs of eyes were better than two.
I slipped my hand in my jacket and felt the pistol strapped there. It was a part of the job I never enjoyed, but it was necessary.
“See,” Nicco said the second the cabin came into view. “The SUV is still there. They have to be here.”
But I felt zero relief as the Range Rover rolled to a stop and I climbed out. Everything looked normal: the SUV was parked in its usual place, and the cabin door was closed. It didn’t stop the hairs along my arms all standing to attention.
Something was wrong.
“Miss Bellatoni and Luis's GPS trackers show her as still here,” Nicco’s security guard, Dario, said as he stepped out of the car.
Guns drawn, they approached the cabin first. Knocking twice, they waited. When there was no answer, he glanced at Nicco. He nodded and Dario grabbed the handle, testing it.
The door swung open. “Luis?”
Nothing.
“Miss Bellatoni, it’s security. Please respond so we know you’re okay.”
Still nothing.
“We’re coming inside.” They stepped inside and swept the living room while Nicco and I hung back.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” I said, pacing back and forth.
“Clear,” someone called, and we went inside.
“Shit, Nic.” My eyes immediately found Bella’s cell phone. I only knew it was hers because it had one of those pink, glittery cases.
I grabbed it and checked the screen. “She didn’t pick up any of my messages.”
“Fan out,” Nicco ordered his men. “Check every—”
“Mr. Marchetti,” Dario called. “You’ll want to see this.”
We rushed over to the hall, and I froze at the sight of blood smeared over the floor.
“It leads down here.” We followed the sticky red trail to the back of the cabin, right to the storage closet.
“Fuck,” I cried out at the splatters of blood.
“Looks like there was a struggle.” Dario grasped the door handle, gently twisting it open. He gave his partner a nod and checked inside.
“Luis, shit.”
He was unconscious, slumped up against the bench, bleeding out of a nasty cut on his forehead.
“He needs medical attention,” Dario said, trying to rouse Luis.
Nicco already had his phone out, calling the Family’s doctor. “He’s on his way. Get him comfortable.” He looked to me. “A word outside.”
I followed him out of the room, every cell in my body zipping with nervous energy.
Caitlin and Bella were gone. Luis had been hurt. It didn’t take much to figure out what had happened here.
“DiMarco found her,” I snapped.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Nicco ran a hand through his hair, staring out of the window.
“Come on, Nic. It’s fucking obvious that he found her, and he… he fucking took them. My sister and my—” I stopped myself, inhaling a ragged breath.
“I need to call Enzo.” Nicco studied me. “You good for a minute?”
Good?
I wanted to break something. Preferably that fucker’s neck.
“Promise me we’ll get them back, Nic.” My voice cracked, fear bleeding into every cell in my body. “Promise me that we’ll get them back.”
He gave me a small nod, but as he walked out of the cabin, cell phone pressed to his ear, I realized he hadn’t answered me.
“Papa,” I jumped up and strode toward my father, falling into his open arms.
“Shh, figlio mio. We will find them.” He gripped me tightly as the emotion I tried so hard to keep contained, rushed to the surface.
“What do we know?” He held me at arm’s length, his hard gaze sliding to Nicco.
“Luis was jumped outside the cabin. He came to and tried to fight off two guys, but one hit him with a tire iron. He’s got a nasty contusion to his head, but Doc says he’ll be okay.”
“Have Enzo and Lucino started interrogating DiMarco?”
“No, they’re waiting for us,” Nicco said.
“What are we waiting for then? Let’s go.” I went to barge past my father, but he shouldered me.
“Basta! This isn’t helping, Son, you need to calm down.”
“Seriously? You’re going to tell me to calm down when DiMarco has Arabella? Who knows what he’s doing to them. He could be—”
“Shh, Son.” My father pulled me into his chest, cupping the back of my neck as a shuddering breath went through me.
If he’d hurt them… I couldn’t bear it.
I’d spent my entire life protecting Bella, trying to keep her innocent and out of harm’s way.
And now she had been taken… because I’d dropped the ball and allowed her to come here, to be around Caitlin.
“Don’t.” My father nudged me away to look at me. “Don’t do that to yourself. We all agreed it was safe to let her come here. Security is tight, the location is unknown, and we’ve been careful. You’re not to blame, Son.”
Careful… but not careful enough.
Fuck.
My fists clenched, my lips thinning. Nothing, nothing anyone said would stop the weight of guilt crushing my chest.
“Make sure Luis is taken care of. We need to head to Providence immediately.”
“Thank fuck,” I breathed, heading for the door. But my father snagged my wrist, stopping me.
“Cool heads, Matteo. We need to keep cool heads, capisci? With DiMarco in talks with Lombardi, we can’t rule out that there is more at play here.”
“What are you saying?”
“We talk first. Give DiMarco a chance to tell us what he knows.”
“I think that’s pretty obvious.” I scoffed. “He kidnapped them. He took them and left Luis for dead, and you want to… to talk?”
Un-fucking-believable.
“Despite what you might think, figlio mio. I want to resolve this with the least bloodshed. For all we know, it could be a trap. Would you so willingly storm in all guns blazing if you thought it might end up with all of us dead?” His gaze cut me to the bone.
“I… I need to do something.”
“And you will.” He gripped my shoulder. “When we figure out their motives.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “But if DiMarco is responsible, he’s a dead man.”
My father’s eyes went over my shoulder to Nicco, something passing between them. But I didn’t stick around to ask what; I needed some fresh air before I combusted.
They wanted to talk, to appease that asshole, when he deserved nothing more than a bullet through his skull. But I wasn’t the boss and there was protocol.
Fuck.
Fuck!
I slammed my fist against the side of Nicco’s Range Rover, pain skittering up my arm. I was about to hit it again, when my phone vibrated.