Nineteen

M y legs won’t stop bouncing as I ride in the backseat of the car. No words have been shared between Vito and me, so the silence is doing nothing to help calm my nerves. Not to mention the incessant vibrating of the burner phone in my purse.

Maybe it’s Nico telling me they infiltrated Sinners using the intel I passed along just two days ago. God, I hope that’s true.

Two days ago

“Yeah, it’s in the safe,” I overhear Vito say as I creep past Junior’s office. Pausing just outside the door, I listen in as I always do in hopes of hearing something of importance. Something I can pass along and use as leverage.

“Too much to filter through this week, so I put the rest in the safe. We’re running low… Any word on when the next shipment is coming in?” Shipment… Could that be the fentanyl Junior’s been using?

“Nah, haven’t heard anything yet.”

“Yeah, I'm printing them now. Okay. I’ll put them in the safe too. I know which one to put it in.”

He must mean the second safe I’ve seen Junior use when he’d force me to stop by Sinner’s with him. It's a hidden one behind the mirror in his office bathroom. I peek through the crack of the door where Vito sits at the desk, shuffling papers around. He puts the papers in a stack and staples the corner.

“Damn, boss, that’s a lot of zeros. Please tell me you have a plan for all this.”

“Alright, fuck. You’re right, I'm sorry. Okay, yes, I will. Bye.”

Holy shit, this is it. This is what I’ve been waiting so long to hear. Junior is such a cocky piece of shit who he doesn’t think anyone would dare infiltrate his club, let alone steal incriminating banking statements.

I have to tell Nico.

Silently creeping away, I lock myself in my sewing room. Grabbing my burner out of my purse, I open the only contact stored on the phone. My fingers tremble with nerves as I type the message.

Me

Everything you need will be in the safe in his office at the club. Behind the bathroom mirror.

(212) 555-3667

Are you sure?

Me

I’d bet my life on it.

(212) 555-3667

We’re on it.

Me

Please be careful… All of you.

(212) 555-3667

I promise we will. Thank you for this… Stay safe.

I quickly delete the text thread and put my phone back in the side pocket of my bag. Sinking against the wall, I allow my pounding heart to calm. This is it… This is the beginning of the end.

The gates open, and the guard nods as we go up to the main door. With unsteady hands, I leave the safety of the car and head into the house.

It's awfully quiet in here. My mind is racing with uncertainty as I walk inside the massive foyer, leaving Vito to do who knows what. Usually, the main floor of the house is brimming with housekeepers, cooks, and whomever helps maintain the estate. On a normal day, one would find several of Junior’s men around the house and guards circling the compound, but since he’s been gone, their presence has also been less frequent. But something is off. I can feel it.

In need of access to my phone, I head upstairs to my sewing room. I left it behind so I wouldn’t be able to be tracked. I wonder if Luca texted me, explaining what happened. Maybe he got caught up doing something else. I’m greeted by a whimpering Nori. “Hey there, boy. Did you miss your momma?” I croon as I give his head a good scratching.

With Nori by my side, I walk into my fabric closet and reach into one of the bins.

Shifting the swatches aside, I reach for my phone, coming up empty-handed. Grabbing the bin off the shelf and lowering it to the floor, my hand begins to frantically feel around. Nori can sense my rising panic, nudging his nose at me .

A searing pain ricochets through my scalp as my head is yanked back and I am dragged by my hair out of the closet. Nori attempts to lunge at my attacker, but they are too quick and slam the door shut, effectively locking Nori inside the closet. My hands reach to free my hair from my attacker’s grip, digging my nails deep into their skin.

“You fucking cunt,” his voice growls, and I freeze.

No, no, no. It can't be.

“I should have known not to trust another Castrovinci,” he spits and releases me.

I scurry away from him and lean up against the couch, noticing his disheveled appearance along with the dried blood on his lip. “Junior! When did you get back?”

“How dare you… how fucking dare you make a fool out of me,” he roars as he begins pacing the room. I clutch my purse, protecting the contents inside when he comes to stand right in front of me. Venom seeping from every pore.

“I hope he was worth your life, you stupid, fucking whore. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? That lover boy, and you would actually get away with fucking behind my back. ME! Giovanni Santini Junior!”

“I, I don’t kno—” My words are cut off as his palm connects with my face. Blood begins to slip down my cheek from the wound.

“I knew there was something about him the night he conveniently showed up to assist during the gala shooting.” I shift ever so slightly. “To think I allowed that prick into my home. MY HOME and he disrespects me like that!” he spits.

Remaining quiet, I watch him carefully pace around the room once again. He’s a loose cannon, extremely unpredictable when he’s in a state like this.

Junior comes beside me and yanks my arm upward, forcing me to stand. My purse slips from my lap and onto the floor. He throws me forward, causing me to collide with my desk. I yelp in pain at the force but protectively keep my hands in front of me. Nori’s barks and scratches grow louder by the minute.

Junior is behind me again, forcing his weight onto my back. His hand is tangled in my hair as he yanks my head back. “This is all your fault. Little slut who couldn’t keep her legs closed. Just wait till he comes storming in here with his men and finds you fucking destroyed.” I feel the barrel of his gun against my head, and I close my eyes. Memories of Trent and I flash before my eyes. His smile, his laugh, his kind green eyes . I love you, Trent Manning. I love you with every fiber of my being. My heart only beats for you, always has, and forever will .

Gunshots ring out from outside my window. Causing Junior’s attention to be pulled away, giving me the distraction I need. Shifting ever so slightly, my hand reaches for the fabric scissors on top of my desk. I then swing the sharp blade behind me, plunging it deep into his arm. His grip loosens on me as he hisses in pain. He stumbles back a step, allowing me to slide out from under him.

I dive for my bag, desperately searching for the pistol. My hand brushes against the smooth metal and wraps around it. I stand and aim at Junior. The weight of the gun feels familiar to me. My father and Micah would let me tag along to the gun range when I was younger. I guess they knew it would be naive to believe I would never have to shoot one in my lifetime. But I’ve never killed a man. I remember Micah telling me that every death creates a mark on your soul, and after a while, nothing can alleviate the stain they leave behind .

I steady my arm with new resolve. I’d take the darkest of souls before I let this monster touch me or anyone I love again.

Junior’s maniacal laugh sounds in the room as he raises his gun at me. “To think I’ll be collecting two more Castrovinci deaths before the day is through.”

Clamoring footsteps come from the stairs, and I pray it’s Luca coming to help me. Otherwise, I’ll have to deal with Junior’s men barging in on me murdering their boss. Too determined to care, my finger tightens around the trigger, and two shots ring out from the barrel of my gun, hitting Junior directly in his chest.

The shock in his expression is one I will live with for the rest of my life. He thought I was powerless, and with two shiny bullets, I’ve taken that power back. Trembling with adrenaline, I watch as his body crumples to the floor, his eyes still wide and staring at me in disbelief.

The pooling of Junior’s blood around his crumpled body is the last thing I see before the door is pushed open, and a sharp pain in my skull causes my world to go black.

Trent

There is no way to articulate the fear squeezing the breath from my lungs during the ride over to Santini’s compound.

“We are wasting precious fucking time,” I growl as we cautiously walk several blocks from where Leo dropped us off at. Thankfully, the Soldati, loyal to Micah and Nico, is guarding the gate and should be able to let us in.

I hate that we can’t just bust through the entrance. The voice in my head is constantly telling me to think logically. Even if that’s the last thing I want to do, I know one wrong move could put Ashley in danger. It’s taking all my restraint to not lose my shit.

Nico’s commanding voice breaks through the air. “Trent, we can’t go in there, guns blazing. That will get us nowhere and could likely get your girl killed.”

What if she’s already dead?

I suppress that debilitating thought. We were so reckless. The image of what he could be doing to her for punishment keeps flashing in my mind, making it even harder to keep my cool.

It becomes painfully obvious why Tony isn’t answering the phone when we approach the gate and find him lifeless on the ground, his gun beside him. I want to feel empathic, knowing it cost him his life, but all I can think of is what this means for Ashley.

The only ray of hope is that the gate is open and seemingly broken. My brother snatches the gun off the ground, checking the mag for ammo, but it looks like he emptied it during whatever went down.

I immediately take off up the concrete hill toward the mansion. Behind me, I hear Nico on the phone presumably updating Leo. “Bring the car up. The gate is clear for now.” There’s a brief pause before he continues. “Bishop and his crew should be here any minute. Debrief him and proceed with caution.”

The first thing I notice is the wide-open front door, but that’s not what paralyzes my movements.

Blood. So much blood.

It looks like a body was dragged through the front door onto the concrete, then it stops suddenly. Most likely being moved into a vehicle.

Frantically, my pulse pounding in my ears, I pull my gun and run into the front door. Not giving a fuck about anything else at this point. The house is eerily quiet.

“Ashley… Ashley… Ash!” I scream, sprinting up the stairs, following the blood trail.

I completely lose it when it ends inside the open door to her sewing room. Dropping to my knees in her empty space, her signature scent and the smell of blood mix in the air makes my stomach heave with unease.

“Ashley, baby…answer me.” I don’t even know I’m crying until I hear my own voice break. I beg and plead for her to appear. My brother is at my side, trying to reassure me, but I think I’m in shock. My body doesn’t feel like it's in the room. His words sound distant, even though he is right beside me.

Slowly, I pick my hands up, looking at the bloodstain. My stomach wretches again at the sight. Pain lashes through me like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

Micah’s loud voice breaks through my sound barrier. “How the fuck did they disappear so quickly? And where the hell is Luca?” Disbelief and panic lace his tone.

“We wasted too much time being cautious,” I whisper. Anger and sadness war within me to the point it feels like I can’t breathe.

“This doesn’t make sense. She has to be alive. They wouldn’t have taken the body if not,” Nico says.

A sliver of hope floods into my veins at his words. Why would he take her if she wasn’t alive ?

“Boss, you got a call, and you’re going to want to take this,” Leo shouts to Nico from somewhere behind me.

But a whine from the closet draws my attention.

Nori.

Micah goes to him, opens the door, and immediately bends down to pet him. He’s a tough dog, but at this moment, he looks as anxious as I feel.

“Ashley must have put him in there… Holy fuck.” I hear Micah gasp, his gaze locked in on something under the couch. Adrenaline kicks in, and I jump to my feet.

And that’s when I realize what he has in his hand.

“Did you know about this?” he questions, gripping the white plastic stick found among the other discarded items of her purse on the ground.

I snatch it from his grasp, and my body goes limp.

Two pink lines.