Page 15 of Dark Mafia Heir

Dario grabs one of the mesh chairs across from mine and sits on it. “How did your meeting with Peter go?”

I groan at the mention of that asshole’s name. “He refused to give out anything useful. The old fucker said he didn’t have a clue who was responsible, but I have an idea on how to make him talk.”

Lorenzo settles on the chair next to Dario while Luca keeps standing. “How? Kidnapping his daughter?”

I nod. “It’s the only way. Knowing that asshole, he’s probably thinking of a way to get rid of me.”

“He’ll need to ally himself with someone powerful to do so,” Luca says. “And we know the only way he can truly do that is by giving away one of his daughters. It sure as hell won’t be the youngest.”

“I know.” I’d given it a lot of thought and there was one simple solution to that. “It won’t happen.”

“You intend to stop the marriage?” Dario asks.

“I do.” But I don’t tell him it’s not just because of my revenge. I can’t bear the thought of someone touching Vivienne despite my hate for her and her father. She has to be mine so I can torment and break her however I like.

No one else can have her before I do, and even after that.

I gritmy teeth so hard my jaw aches.

I thought Peter was an asshole, but it turns out he’s worse than that. The asshole is willing to marry off his daughter to someone three times her age just to keep himself safe.

Sure, I’d expected him to do something stupid out of desperation, but I’d tried to hold on to the hope that he would love his daughters enough to not do something idiotic.

Turns out I’m the stupid one for thinking that.

Luca and Lorenzo just came home after a long day of secretly following Peter around the city to find out what he is up to. Safe to say they did not come bearing good news.

“You’ve been pacing the entire house ever since we got back,” Luca says, his eyes following my every movement. “You have to calm down; it’s just a wedding.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do. Do you think all I care about is Vivienne getting married? It’ll be harder to get a confession out of him if he has a powerful ally backing him up.”I stop pacing and shift my weight to one leg. “Dante is lying cold on the floor, and that bastard is more concerned about marrying off his daughter to that old geezer.”

“If he’s willing to go that far, then whoever is behind Dante’s death must be someone powerful,” Lorenzo says. “He fears that person more than he fears you.”

“Underestimating me will be his ruin.” I sit down, but my feet relentlessly tap the floor. I’m restless as fuck. “When is the wedding?”

“They haven’t fixed a date yet,” Luca answers. “But the proposal dinner is next week Friday. The wedding should be soon after.”

“Next week Friday,” I echo. It’s Saturday, so that will be less than a week from today. Peter’s really in a hurry to secure this new alliance. Unfortunately for him, I’ll make sure it doesn’t go through. “Did you find out where he plans to host the engagement party?”

Luca bobs his head. “I’ll email the address over to you.”

“We have to get the men ready. We make our move next Friday,” I say. “We’re taking the bride with us.”

Luca and Lorenza exchange a stunned look. “The bride?” Lorenzo asks.

“Do you have a better idea on how to stop the alliance?” I return. “Should we just walk in and shoot everyone? It’s quicker if you ask me.”

Luca rests back in his chair. “What are we going to do with her?”

“We’ll hold her hostage. If Peter wants his daughter back, he’ll have to give us the information we need.”

Lorenzo scratches the back of his head, clearly not comfortable with this insane plan of mine. “And if he insists on not saying a thing?”

Peter is a narcissistic asshole, but I doubt he’ll gamble with his daughter’s life. Men like him are usually possessive over what they feel is their property.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t because I’ll be forced to kill her.” My head is a mess, so I walk to the wine bar in the corner of the living room and grab a bottle of tequila with a shot glass.

I return to my seat and pour myself a shot. I drink in, wincing as the drink trails down my throat and settles in my stomach, as if I just swallowed a hot piece of metal.

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