Page 83 of Savage Claim

I couldn’t stand and watch him, so I searched the blue guestroom that Gemma had been occupying for months. I yanked out drawer after drawer and dumped them all out on thebed. It didn’t look like any clothes were missing: the drawers were jampacked with her shit. Her cell phone was still in the drawer in my office.

When I didn’t get any answers from Gemma’s room, I went up to Cristian’s room and banged on the door. “Cris,” I called. There was no answer. No noise came from inside at all. “Cristian, open the door,fratellino.” Still, there was no answer.

Something squirmed in my gut.

I brought my foot up and kicked at his door as hard as I possibly could. The wood splintered inward; the doorframe broke. I shoved my way into his room. Cristian wasn’t there. “Fuck.”

Like Gemma’s room, nothing had been taken from my brother’s closet or drawers. His phone was left on the charger on the bedside table. He had left everything that might have given me a clue as to where he was going.

Dropping to my knees, I looked beneath his bed. Our father had pounded into our heads growing up that we always needed to be ready for anything. For years, we both kept a go-bag, stocked with clothes, weapons, money. Whatever we might need if we had to leave suddenly.

His go-bag was still where it had always been, but when I opened it, all of the money was gone. I swore again.

Wherever Isabella had taken Emma, Cristian had gone with them. The burning feeling inside of me increased. Before long, I was going to be nothing but ashes.

I went back to my office, throwing open the door so hard that it bounced against the wall. “Well?” I demanded.

Damian shook his head. “Nothing yet.”

My vision became hazy. I crossed the room and pulled Damian from the desk. “Enzo—!” I smashed my fist into his face, savagely joyful when I felt his eye socket crumble inward. I dropped Damian to the ground and kicked him square in the chest.

I heard footsteps behind me. “What the hell are you doing?” Elio yelled, and then his hands were on me, tearing me away from the man collapsed at my feet.

Elio interference just gave me a new target. I turned on him and tried to tackle him, but Elio stood firm against me, so I brought my hands down on his back again and again.

“Lorenzo.” Someone was calling my name, pleading with me to stop, and it vaguely registered that it was Amalia. I let go of my cousin, who dropped to the ground beside Damian with athud. My eyes were on Amalia; she was practically snarling at me. “You want to hit me too?” she demanded. “Go ahead and do it.”

Elio grunted, trying to get to his feet. “Don’t. You. Dare,” he breathed raggedly.

“No,” Amalia insisted. “Let him get it all out. Obviously, Isabella leaving only hurtshim.”

That brought me to heel. Once I was able to actually look at her, it became clear that she was hurting too, and for whatever reason, that knocked the wind out of my anger’s sails. I looked down at the men who I had left bloody on the floor.Fucking Christ.

“I’m going to flay Gemma alive and make her watch,” I declared.

Damian spat out blood onto the carpet.Hopefully the Scotch-guard holds up. “I’ll get you want you need for that,” he promised.

Sometimes, myvicecapowas almost too loyal. That helped me reel back to myself even more. “Aren’t you meant to be steering me in a more moral direction?”

Damian had his finger in his mouth, wincing. “You knocked one of my teeth loose,stronzo,” he said. “Do whatever the fuck you want.”

Ding!

I went to the computer: Damian had a new email. It was a link to a map, and when I opened it, there was a blinking, red dot. “What am I looking at here?”

Elio pushed himself up off of the floor. He was wheezing hard; I probably broke a few of his ribs. He looked at the screen. “A tracker,” he panted.

Amalia blinked. “You put a tracker on her?”

“No,” I said. I absolutely would if she ever left the house without me, but so far, that hadn’t happened.

From the floor, Damian said, “She must have found one of the air tags and put it on before she left.”

His words doused the fire raging inside of me. A tracker meant she wanted us to know where she was going. That meant she had to be coming back, right?

Relief spread through my chest like a cooling balm. She hadn’t left me for good. What she’d done was still a betrayal, and I was going to deal with that severely when I had her back, but she was anticipating a punishment. She knew that she would have to work to make this up to me.

With a few clicks, I was able to pull up exactly where she was: Grand Central Station. “She’s putting them on a goddamn train.”

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