“She fucked with the wrong Mercado. No one messes with you.”
He growled and pressed their lips together.
Lucia chuckled, “now let’s hope she believes my lie.”
Capone cracked up laughing. “Do you wanna go wait outside for me? We’ll leave Levi to open the shop. I want to take you home and fuck my wicked woman.”
Oh yay, she was on board for that. She popped a kiss on his lips, told Levi bye, and made her way around to the back alley where his bike was waiting.
Adrenaline gushed through Lucia’s veins, her euphoric happiness making her giddy as she rested her butt on the bike seat, lost in dirty thoughts about what they were going to do once they were home.
So into her thoughts, she didn’t hear the approaching figure behind her.
Nor did she see the hood that came over her head until it was too late.
It was far too late to struggle as a massive body lifted her off her feet. “You scream, bitch, and I’ll knife you, got it?”
The shock of it made her lungs open, and she screamed anyway, panic setting her bones like concrete. Kicking and flailing her arms as a hand shoved over her mouth.
There were two of them because suddenly her feet were off the floor.
Lucia struggled and fought so damn hard as she was thrown in the trunk of a car. Listening to the doors open and then slam, as the engine kicked in and shot off down the street. She kicked the hell out of that small space until her limbs were fatigued and sore, her hands secured behind her back, caused pain through her shoulders, keeping her at an awkward angle.
And she didn’t stop for what felt like forever. Sweating, and worn out, so fucking terrified she was seething. Hoarse from screaming for help.
The car rolled to a stop. The trunk opened, and she fought like a wild dog to no avail because she was thrown onto a shoulder, then she felt that body incline on some steps, her ears desperately trying to figure out where she was.
It was some seconds later she was dropped into a bucket seat, and the hood was removed. Lucia blinked at the brightness surrounding her.
And came face to face with her father watching her.
They were on his private jet, and he looked like a father who was picking up his child from detention.
“Enough now, Lucia. You’ve had your fun. Make no fuss, and I won’t have to go to measures to hurt him, you’ve already wasted enough of my time forcing me to come for you.”
She stilled, her heart thumping hard.
He meant it.
He’d hurt Capone and not blink an eye doing it.
The plane door closed. His soldiers took their seats, and she watched the scenery start to whizz by the window.
“You’re a fucking monster,” she whispered.
Nicholas Cole didn’t react.
Why would he? The Devil didn’t have a sense of right and wrong.
“Let’s go home, daughter.”
Capone.
Capone.
Capone.
Her heart screamed.