Page 88 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Prince

“Please get her some food.” I hand Sophie over to her. Her eyes are almost heavy with sleep.

Giovanni is still on the couch when I walk back into the living room. Shawn isn’t there any longer. It’s Andre instead. Giovanni turns to look at me as I walk into the room. A part of his left arm is bandaged.

“How did this happen?”

Andre stares at me for a moment before returning his gaze back to Giovanni. He has a black leather jacket with a white shirt on. His jeans are baggy on his legs.

“Some masked men attacked our car and shot at us.” Giovanni turns to look at Andre. “We wouldn’t have made it out alive if it wasn’t for Andre’s quick thinking.”

“The prisoner is in the storehouse,” Andre blurts. His arms are folded in front of his chest.

“The De Santis must have a hand in it. Luca has always wanted this revenge for his parents,” I say.

“If he truly is behind this, he will be paying them a visit when I’m done with him.” Giovanni stands up, but grunts a little as he does so.

Andre leads the way out to the storehouse and we follow behind.

A man with a black textile on his head is tied to a chair in the center of the space. The chair wobbles as he struggles to free himself, moving his arms.

Andre walks up to him first and punches him in the abdomen.

He grunts out as Andre pulls his head to the back and removes the cloth from his head. The prisoner has a bloody face with bruises. He spits out blood as the cloth comes off his head.

“Figlio di puttana.” Giovanni grips the collar of his shirt tightly with one arm.

The prisoner smiles, revealing blood-stained teeth.

“Who do you work for?” Anyone can tell that Giovanni is furious with how angry he sounds. He groans a little, releasing the shirt of the prisoner to touch his wounded arm and moves backward, away from him.

He shouldn’t be here. I move closer to my brother and touch his shoulder. “Giovanni, you’re hurt. You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper.

The prisoner is yelling in pain as Andre connects heavy punches to his face. I flinch at hearing the sounds of each strike.

“Don’t worry about me, Anna. I’ll be fine.” A groan falls from his lips again as he tries to move his arm.

“No, you’re not. Andre can handle this.”

“It’s our mother. I can’t stay back and do nothing,” he protests. Giovanni walks back to the side of the prisoner before I can talk him out of it.

Andre has the prisoner already beaten to a pulp. His eyes are half-closed, his face swollen up and marked with bleeding bruises, and his head is dangling in the air.

Giovanni punches his head and grips his lower jaw. He raises it higher to lock eyes with the prisoner. “Who fucking sent you?”

The prisoner coughs a little and groans out loudly.

“Answer me!”

“F-f-fuck you.”

Giovanni slaps him harder in the face.

I jump a little as I know how painful that must have felt. It does hurt, as the prisoner yells out loud.

“Hand me your gun,” Giovanni says to Andre.

Oh God.

Andre reaches for his back pocket and pulls out a pistol. He hands it over to Giovanni.

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