Page 99 of Ruthless God

It was pure fucking luck I got her text just as we landed in Las Vegas. But fuck, had I not come at this time, Matteo could have been home with her instead of coming to pick us up.

I looked up to see the guilt and the darkness in my younger brother’s eyes before moving them over to Elio.

He was watching over Marco. Not that it was necessary, considering the bastard was out cold.

I signaled with my head for my brothers to take care of this before lifting Luna up in my arms and standing. She tightened her hold around me from the sudden movement but otherwise didn’t raise her face from where she had it buried in my chest. I could feel her tears soaking my shirt.

I carried her up the stairs without looking back and went to our room.

She didn’t react as I lay down on the bed with her in my arms. I ran my fingers through the long locks of her hair, as much to comfort her as to comfort myself.

Fuck.

I should have put more guards around the place. Marco shouldn’t have been able to get onto the property, but he did.

Which meant someone had betrayed me and let the fucker in to hurt my wife. And I was going to find out who.

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, but I felt it the moment her hold on me went slack… when she finally gave in to the exhaustion and fell asleep. Carefully, I moved her off me, tucking her into bed. I stood on the edge and watched her. How many times had I stayed like this, watching her sleep and feeling heavy from the sight alone?

How could she affect me like this?

And now…

The image of that fucker on top of her while her terrified screams filled the house would forever haunt me.

Perhaps Elio was right.

I had changed. But he was also wrong.

Luna wasn’t my weakness. She was my strength. She gave me the motivation, the energy to take on the biggest monsters out there. She made mewantto be the biggest, most terrifying monster in the world just so I could protect her from it all.

And I was going to unleash my monster on Marco.

I reached out and ran my fingers over the side of her face. She frowned slightly but didn’t wake.

Sleep,principessa. I’m going to make it right.

Elio and Matteostood beside me as we watched all my high-ranking men file into the dimly lit warehouse, not saying anything.

I didn’t usually call for all my men to come to Las Vegas. I didn’t want them to leave their posts for too long, but this was important.

I was going to get my message across.

I was going to show them how Iearnedthe nicknameLo Spietato. Why I had been able to take reign from my psycho of a father and make it into something the old bastard could not even think to dream of.

Enzo came in with the last group of men, pushing his way through the crowd and stepping up on the podium where we stood, as if he had such a high position among all my men.

Matteo made a move to get him off when I placed my hand on his chest, stopping him. I shook my head. I wanted the bastard up here. After all, it would be remiss of me not to give him a front-row seat to the show.

Enzo watched the interaction between us, his chest puffing out as if he thought I finally respected him and his position in the family. I would laugh if I wasn’t feeling so fucking murderous. Luckily, I would be able to take this rage out soon enough.

Enzo’s eyes moved back to the doorway. He started shifting on his feet when it looked like just about everyone who was supposed to be here was here, and yet there was no sign of his son.

He didn’t need to worry. Marco would make his entrance. And what a grand entrance it would be.

Elio nodded, and I signaled for the doors to close when it was time. The slam of the metal door and the click as the lock latched into place sounded loudly, even among my men’s hushed chatter and nervous energy, as they questioned why they were brought here.

I kept my eyes on Enzo, cueing him on the first sign that something was wrong. A nervous tic danced around his temple, and I let my smile widen just a bit. His eyes became desperate as he looked harder for a son he wouldn’t find any time soon.

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