Page 119 of Dirty Mafia Torment
“Listen carefully and do exactly as I say. Get him to the town of Anzio, where a boat will be waiting to take him to Sardinia. Grassi’s men will be anticipating that he’ll flee to Sardinia but with luck will swarm the larger port at Civitavecchia instead. If he resists, tell him Grassi has Dante.”
My lips part. “Has?”
“Ambushed him and likely has him locked up in a Sicilian dungeon. His men are hunting for Renzo right now.”
My grip tightens around the phone, pulse pounding in my ears. “They won’t touch him,” I say, my voice low and sharp. “I’ll do what I have to.”
Don Beneventi tilts his head, studying me. “I get it now.”
Before I can ask what he means, he cuts me off. “I’ll hold you to it. Now get moving and call me from Sardinia.”
I stare at the empty screen. Not because of his words, but because of what he left out.
It sounded like I’ll be the one making that call.
Not Renzo.
I’ll be on that boat, too.
My mind races. I need to call Aunt Teresa and alert her. But first, I’ve got to wake up Renzo and get us to the port.
I drop my phone into my purse, ready to do just that.
The stranger comes out of nowhere and slams into my side, taking me to the ground and knocking the wind out of me. Before I can scream, I’m punched in the side then head. Once. Twice. Three times.
He hauls himself off me, but not before I spy his hand, and the heel mark I made, deeper and uglier than the wound the feathered nuisance left on me.
Dread grips me. Lord, he’s the same man who attacked me before.
I lie still, pain flooding every nerve ending, my mind scrambling for a way out.
He kicks me hard in the ribs. My vision fractures, my world spinning.
“You little bitch,” he snarls. “Thought I wouldn’t find you? Thought you could hide?”
Oh my God. It can’t be…
“I own you,” he roars, completely unhinged.
A psycho living up to his name.
I try to push up from the dirt, struggling to breathe.
Settemo towers over me, pure evil carved into human form. Hedrops a black duffel bag at his feet and pulls out the one thing I never wanted to see again. The white latex catsuit.
My stomach turns, and I fight off my panic.
He lunges before I can react, gripping my ankles and yanking them into the material.
I gasp and thrash. “Get off me, Cunt Stud.”
Wrong word choice.
He flips me like I weigh nothing and drags me by the ankles down the gravel drive. Pebbles slice into my skin, the drive scraping my arms raw. My scream catches in my throat, choked off by terror.
I hear an engine running. He’ll load me into a vehicle and drive off.
I’ll break my promise to Don Beneventi about getting Renzo to safety. Joke’s on me.
