Chapter Twenty-Four

Stefano

Present Day

Time crawled.

Stefano twisted his hand around his right wrist, but the leather band he’d worn for years—except for the past week—was missing.

In his hurry to run, he’d left the braided leather on the nightstand next to their bed. In fact, he’d left all the jewelry Rossi had bought him through the years at home. It was a big oversight on his part and Stefano could only chalk it up to the fact that he’d been distracted.

Distracted. He almost snorted under his breath, but saved his energy. He hadn’t been distracted, he’d been devastated. Maybe that was a strong word to use, but what else could he have been? He knew Rossi had been out of his mind with fear when they’d collided on the beach earlier, but that was because things were outside of Rossi’s control.

Rossi hated losing control. Rossi had told him once that his fear stemmed from his childhood in foster care and all Stefano had wanted was to take that fear away and give Rossi a home.

Fuck.

Now Stefano wished that he’d just stayed home and hashed it out.

One more time?

Yeah, one more fucking time only to be back in the same spot. Shit, he really didn’t know what the answer was to fixing what was broken between them, but all he wanted right that very moment was to be home—with Rossi and him sitting in front of their fireplace listening to Christmas music through the surround sound. First, they’d hear Rossi’s favorite of “Let it Snow” and then Stefano’s pick was always “White Christmas.” As much as they both loved California, they’d dreamed of a place where four seasons fanned out with nature’s brilliance. Someday, Stefano wanted to buy a home where the leaves turned yellow and orange and littered the ground just a few months before the sky would open up and cover the earth in white.

He stared at his empty wrist. The leather band had been a symbol of their renewed love. It had been gifted to him by Rossi on the day they’d moved into the house together. A day Stefano would never forget. His heart had been so full of hope. How in the hell had it come to this? He rubbed one hand down his face.

The bench beneath his ass was making his spine ache and with a rolling start, he managed to stand after gripping one of the bars.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded at Wild’s softly spoken question.

Limping with gritted teeth across the concrete toward the locked gate, Stefano pulled on the metal bar. The wrapped chain rattled and clanged, and he gave it another hard yank before releasing the bar. One of the four guards on the outside of the cage frowned and gestured at him with the business end of a rifle.

“You won’t get out,” Dresor called from where he sat at the messy desk. “Many have tried.”

“We’ll see,” Stefano said, meeting the drug lord’s eyes from across the distance. It wasn’t far; the whole room was probably only seven hundred square feet—the size of a small apartment.

“Where’s your friend?” Dresor stood and walked toward them. “You really think he’s going to get help?” The man snorted.

“You’ll find out,” Stefano said, refusing to lean against the cage to relieve the pressure on his knee. He would show no weakness to this fucker.

“Fat chance. I have people on the police here.”

“Why solicit teenagers when you have a fucking army?” Stefano curled his lip. It was the one thing about this whole mess that he didn’t have an answer for.

Dresor rolled his neck with a crack. “They’re good for business. You’d be surprised how much they can turn over on a good weekend. Plus, they’re free labor.”

“You actually have them working in here?”

Dresor’s smirk was enough of an answer. Stefano didn’t continue that line of questioning.

“What the hell do you think you’re going to do with us? Are you really going to kill two US citizens?”

“I won’t have to kill you personally.” Dresor gestured with a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of Venezuela. “You two are going out with the next shipment. I’ll have you dumped in the Caribbean Sea.”

“There’s no way you’re in charge of this whole operation.” Stefano ran his gaze up and down the man’s frame in disbelief.

Dresor’s face turned a dark shade of red and he stalked closer with his hands fisted.

“I’ve seen the volume of drugs you’re running through here. You’re too stupid to run something this big on your own,” Stefano said, continuing to goad the guy.

“That just shows how wrong you are.” Dresor stepped closer to snarl into his face.

Stefano closed his hand around the man’s shirt and yanked. Dresor slammed against the metal bars with his face taking the brunt of it. When Dresor yanked away, Stefano let him for a second and then jerked again, slamming him harder.

“Get him!” Dresor yelled at his men and tried to grab him through the bars, but Stefano held his grip and stepped out of the way. The only thing Dresor managed to do was hit his arm. Stefano was proud of his muscle. At the age of forty-nine, he could bench press a fair amount.

Wild leaped up and closed in, but the four guards had guns suddenly aimed at Wild’s head. Another guard stepped up and aimed his rifle right in Stefano’s face.

Tightening his grip for just a moment, Stefano then released Dresor. The man fell back and stumbled into a few office chairs before he caught onto a desk.

“You try that again and you’re dead!” Dresor spat. “Dead, you hear me!”

“I think the whole island can hear you.” Stefano smirked. “I’m sure whoever is in charge can.”

If looks could kill, Stefano knew he’d be dead. He’d take any opportunity he could to goad the guy. His main worry was getting him and Wild out of there alive and not ending up as some casualty at the bottom of the sea. If he could get Dresor to lose his cool, they just might be able to escape.

“Nice try,” Wild whispered from next to him. “Now, come sit down.”

At the operative’s urging, Stefano returned to the seat but took a moment to call out loudly, “You better think about letting us out to use the restroom or I’m going to take a piss in your cage.”

“Fuck!” Dresor hissed between his teeth and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. Seeing something on the screen had the guy hurrying to his desk and the computer.

Was that where Dresor kept the surveillance? Had someone captured Rossi? With his heart in his throat, he sat there with a laser focus on the drug lord.

If anything happened to Rossi, Stefano would choke the life out of Dresor.

Very, very slowly.