76. Antonio

The bastards lead me through a door in a wing of the house I’ve never been in. When we were kids, Abel did business here, and there was always a guard posted at the entrance. But not today.

We go through a maze before we stop. Costa opens the door, and a guard shoves me inside. I see Abel in my periphery, but my eyes go immediately to the woman tied to the chair.

She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

My heart is about to explode, as the relief courses through my veins.

I kept telling myself she would be alive when I found her, because I needed to believe it. But the goddamn truth is that I wasn’t sure.

Daniela’s eyes widen when she sees me, and a gasp tumbles out as a sob. This must be terrifying for her—especially before I arrived. I’m going to tear these fuckers limb from limb.

Her face is swollen on one side, but otherwise she looks unhurt. But that doesn’t temper the rage inside me. I can’t stop thinking about how afraid she must have been to be dragged here and locked in a room with this monster.

I need to stay in control so that I can live long enough to send these assholes straight to hell.

I glance at my uncle. His eyes dart from Daniela to me and back, like he’s enjoying the spectacle. Although I doubt he’s capable of enjoying anything.

“Who’s the mastermind? You?” I ask Costa.

He doesn’t respond.

“Let her go, and I’ll have a large sum of money deposited into your account.” He’s always been motivated by money. “Surely we can come to an agreement on a suitable amount.”

He still doesn’t say anything.

“What do you want? D’Sousa grapes? A share of Huntsman Port?” I look from one bastard to the other. No one utters a word.

Gustavo is an arrogant fucker, who isn’t anywhere near the man his predecessor was, and Tomas’s old guard is nothing more than a punk. There’s no chance either of them is running this show. Costa’s the only capable one here, but now that we’re in this room, he’s no longer the big man he was when I arrived.

“Who’s in charge?” I demand, my patience something of the past.

“That would be me,” a not-so-feeble voice says from the wheelchair.

What the fuck?I side-eye Daniela while I try to come to grips with what’s happening. But I pivot quickly, so Abel doesn’t have the upper hand for too long.

“Good afternoon, Tio,” I say cordially. “It appears you’ve made quite a recovery.”

He chuckles, but his movement is halting. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s not getting up any time soon. Although Abel has always been clever and dangerous. Not as dangerous as my father, but more dangerous than Tomas or these three pinheads.

“Secure him to a chair,” he instructs the guards.

I gaze at Daniela while they’re cuffing me to a chair about four feet from her. Her eyes are washed-out, like she’s been crying, and it cuts me to the quick. I need to get her out of here. But how?

My uncle doesn’t need money. But he wants something. I have to figure out what that is if I’m going to negotiate Daniela’s release.

Abel studies me, shrewdly, waiting for me to blink. I mull over the possibilities, but I keep coming back to the same thing. He wants me.

“Whatever this is about, it has nothing to do with Daniela.” I keep my tone firm but even. “You have me now. Isn’t that what you really want?” It’s just a guess, but I’d be willing to bet a large sum on it.

“Don’t tell me what I really want, boy. You took both my sons from me.” He’s angry, and I have no doubt he would strike me if he could.

“And you took my life,” he continues. “I’ve been forced to pretend I never recovered my faculties from the stroke just so you wouldn’t kill me after you found out about Tomas’s child.”

Daniela jerks at Tomas’s child, and her chair shifts a few inches. The guards are alert but they don’t move toward her.

Tomas’s child.I should have killed you even when I thought you were incapacitated. That was a mistake. I don’t say it, because unlike these other three, Abel doesn’t care about my power. He’s got nothing to lose, and he’s likely to take out any disrespect I show him on Daniela.

He’s slumped in the wheelchair now. That angry outburst cost him.

“You have me. Let’s settle this between men. We don’t need a woman to be part of the discussion.”

Abel is looking far less alert than he did when I first entered. He appears almost sluggish. It’s a two-headed coin. He could fade and I’d be back dealing with Costa, which isn’t ideal but preferable, or he could end this before he’s too tired to do anything. And by end, I mean he could kill us.

“You want revenge. Take it from me. Real revenge is never satisfying when it’s exacted from a woman or a child.”

Appealing to his sense of honor is futile. He has none. But I can’t leave any stone unturned—not when it comes to her safety.

“I’ll take my revenge against you,” he snarls. “In good time. But I want revenge from her as well.”

“She never did a thing to you.”

“Her father killed my brother.”

I shake my head. “I killed him.” Just like I’m going to kill you. “With my bare hands.” Abel’s top lip curls. I want him to know I’m the responsible party, not Daniela’s father. It’ll help take some of the heat off her. But I can’t provoke him too much. Cristiano needs time to get here.

In the meantime, I want all his attention, all his pent-up fury, focused on me. I just need to figure out how to best make it happen.

I could pretend not to give a shit about what happens to Daniela. It might make him less interested in her—or he might have the guards slap her around to test my resolve. I’m not taking that risk.

Begging is my only option. Although it isn’t something I know well.

It will also remind them she’s my greatest weakness, and that puts the attention squarely back on her. It’s a fine line to walk. But I have to try.

“Let her go,” I plead with the devil. “She’s an innocent.”

“She kept my granddaughter from me for all these years.” His speech is garbled. “Didn’t you, dear?” he asks, like he’s some sweet old man.

Daniela glares at him, but she doesn’t respond.

“What did I say about asking twice?” The kind old man act is gone. He found a second wind.

It must be the prospect of threatening a helpless woman. Fucking coward.

The guard steps toward her with a raised hand, and I tug at my cuffs. I can’t move. Sonofabitch.

“No!” Abel cries. “Don’t mar her face again before the party.”

As soon as Cristiano gets here, that’s where I’m starting with these fuckers. I’m going to slice off their noses, and shove them into their mouths, and then I’m digging their eyeballs out.

“Just a small dinner party,” Abel mumbles, like he’s talking to himself. “It’ll be just the five of us. But first, I need a short nap to restore my energy.”

Costa peers at him like he’s crazy. And he is.Or arrogant.

It’s a mistake to let too much time pass before either moving us to a more secure location, or dealing with us decisively. My men could come storming in at any moment. Unless he knows something that I don’t.

“Don’t worry,” he assures Costa. “They’re not going anywhere.”