Page 42 of Pregnant By the Mafia Boss

I don’t know what to think. I find myself running over the events of the past few days, trying to look at them objectively.

What do I actually know for a fact?

Very little.

Salvatore told me the men he killed were trying to kidnap me. He told me Christian killed my father. Told me marrying him was for my own safety.

Was it really all lies?

Can I trust a criminal?

A murderer?

I look back at the house. Is this where I was born? Where my parents lived? It’s a huge house, set in sprawling grounds. Does this belong to me now?

I feel a wave of dizziness, and I stagger, falling to the ground. Arms are under me a moment later.

“Come on,” Christian says, lifting me to my feet as my vision fades again. “Bit too soon to be marching around on your own, it seems. Let’s get you back inside.”

Unconsciousness smothers me, and as I fade away, I hear Christian’s voice. It sounds like it’s far away.

“Seems like you need some looking after, doesn’t it?”

16

Salvatore

Luca drives. I’m too riled up. I’ve got the gun we picked up from the drop site, along with multiple rifles in the trunk.

We’re quiet for once, and even Dante isn’t cracking wise—his face is set in stone, and that always means business with him.

The flight seems to take forever, but I know all too well where we’re going. The place where I was tortured a few short weeks ago.

Coming full circle. Back to where everything began.

Actually, that’s not true. It really began in the lakehouse. Keira by my side, doing things I never expected from her.

She appeared to be nothing but light, but she’s got darkness in her, the same as me. As willing to revel in lust and sweat and filth. I must get her back.

There is no one else in the world like my wife. She is unique. I will not allow her to get hurt.

I don’t care how many guards there are. I don’t care how well-protected the house is. I will find Christian, and if he’s so much as harmed a hair on her head, I will torture him for days, weeks.

Hell, maybe evenyears. Use the doctor to keep him alive so I can keep him in agony.

That’s what you get for taking my wife from me. Unimaginable pain that lasts an eternity.

We pull up on the roadside, about a quarter of a mile from the house.

It’s an expensive part of Rome, with wide, tree-lined streets, and lizards crawl on the sun-baked cobbled sidewalk.

The house is the third one on the left. From here, we can see little of it. I’m itching to move in, already walking forward, but Luca takes hold of my shoulder.

“Are you insane? If you go in the front, you’ll be toast before you get to the door.”

“That’s my wife in there. I’m getting her back.”

He gives my shoulder an understanding squeeze. “You’re riled up, I get it. But you know better. We go in the back way, disable the alarm, and none of us ends up riddled with bullets.”

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