Page 90 of Ruined By Blood
It's not enough. Nothing will be enough until Sienna is back and Henry Sterling is bleeding out at my feet.
I grab the heavy oak chair and hurl it across the room where it splinters against my bookshelf, sending volumes crashing down. Each impact feeds the furyrather than diminishing it. The image of Sienna's face as that bastard dragged her away replays in my mind like a fucking nightmare I can't wake from.
"I'll kill him," I growl, smashing my fist into the wall. Pain shoots up my arm, but it's nothing compared to what's raging inside me. "I'll rip him apart with my bare hands."
I seize a crystal decanter of whiskey and hurl it at the opposite wall, where it explodes in a shower of glass and amber liquid. The scent of bourbon fills the air, mingling with the copper tang of blood from my split knuckles.
Through the red haze of my rage, I'm dimly aware of Damiano standing in the doorway. He makes no move to stop me, just watches as I systematically demolish everything within reach.
"You done?" he asks quietly, his voice carrying easily through the sudden silence.
I breathe hard, chest heaving with each ragged inhale. Blood drips from my knuckles onto the scattered papers at my feet. The office looks like a fucking war zone.
"You done?" Damiano asks again, his voice deceptively calm.
I spin toward him, pointing a bloody finger at his face. "Don't. Don't fucking stand there acting all composed when Sterling has her."
"We'll get her back, Enzo." His tone is measured, reasonable—which only feeds my rage.
"When?" I snarl. "Tomorrow? Next week? After that sick fuck has already sold her to Cortez?"
"We need a plan?—"
"We had time for a plan!" My voice tears through the room. "We should have put a bullet in Sterling's head the minute we knew what he was doing to her. Instead, we sataround talking about the right approach while that bastard was already moving against us."
Damiano's jaw tightens. "We needed proof?—"
"Proof?" I laugh, the sound harsh and broken. "The proof was written all over her body in scars and cigarette burns! But no, we wanted to play it smart, right? Thought we had more time?"
"Enzo—"
"Well, congratulations, brother." The word drips with venom. "Your strategic patience just got Sienna handed back to the monster who's been selling her since she was a fucking kid."
Damiano's eyes darken dangerously. "You need to calm down."
"Fuck calm!" I kick the remains of my chair across the floor. "While we were being careful not to upset the delicate fucking balance of power in this city, Sterling waltzed in and took her right from under our noses!"
Damiano steps into the room, his control slipping. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't feel responsible? But losing your shit isn't bringing her back any faster!"
"What's your brilliant plan now, Don Feretti? More waiting? More talking? How about we send him a strongly worded letter?"
"I swear to God, Enzo, if you don't get a grip, I'm going to knock some sense into you myself."
I step closer until we're nose to nose. "Try it. Maybe a fight is exactly what I need right now."
"Both of you, stop."
Alessio stands in the doorway, his expression grim. He looks between us, taking in my bloody hands and Damiano's clenched fists.
"This isn't helping " he says flatly. "Save it for Sterling."
The tension crackles between Damiano and me, neither of us backing down. Alessio stands at the threshold, waiting for us to regain our senses. The wreckage of my office surrounds us—shattered glass, splintered wood, and the scent of spilled whiskey hanging in the air.
I drag a hand down my face, smearing blood across my cheek without caring. The rage still burns white-hot.
"Her mother," I say suddenly.
Damiano's brow furrows. "What?"
