Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Dario

My neck and ribs throb painfully after my little visit with Alessio. Unfortunately, those body parts aren't the only thing throbbing. Alessio turned down my offer of sex, so now I'm left to suffer the pangs of a raging hard-on with my hands cuffed behind my back.

It's probably for the best that he turned me down. The last thing this situation needs are more complications. It was stupid to even tempt him. I need to get my head in the game. Need to be focused on escaping, not trying to seduce Alessio. Of course, if I'd been successful, perhaps I'd have been able to get the upper hand on him. Maybe I'd already be free if he had gone for my offer.

But he didn't.

Instead of obsessing about Alessio, I should be focused on finding a way out of this dank cellar. That task has only been made harder because the little asshole didn't uncuff me before he made his escape. I roll onto my side and clumsily manage to get to my feet. I stumble over to the cot and I lie down.

As the hours pass my anger grows. My arms ache from being stuck behind my body and cuffed. The metal restraints are cutting into my skin, and the longer Alessio leaves me down here cuffed, the more furious I grow. Now and then I hear voices upstairs, but it sounds like the same two voices: Alessio and the yellow eyed alpha. Did Alessio only bring one guy with him? That seems odd. If he wants Valentino to come rescue me, shouldn't he have a bunch of guys here? Two people won't be able to stop a brutal force like Valentino.

I doze on and off throughout the night. I only know it's morning because above my cot is a tiny, tiny window. Way too small to escape out. The glass is difficult to see through after years of rain and sun. But it lets in just enough light that I can tell when it's day or night.

I'm dying of thirst. I don't understand why they're not bringing me water. If they just wanted me dead, they could have injected me with something lethal at the restaurant. Of course, I already know Alessio enjoys my suffering. I don't doubt that for a moment. He's definitely a sadistic little bastard.

When I hear the door at the top of the stairs clang open, I sit up. Heart pounding, I wait as Yellow Eyes comes slowly down the stairs carrying two bottles of water. I lick my dry lips, and I'd salivate at the sight of the water if I had any spit left in my mouth.

When he's close enough Yellow Eyes says, "Stand up and face the cot."

I do as he says, desperate for the water. He uncuffs my wrists and I grunt in pain as I am finally able to move my arms to the front of my body. It's agonizing as the blood flows back into my arms, and the muscles stretch. I have to grit my teeth to stop from whimpering.

Yellow eyes tosses the water bottles on the cot. "I assume you don't want food?"

"No." I reach for one of the bottles. My hands shake as I twist the lid off and swallow the first gulp of tepid water. My body absorbs the liquid greedily and I finish off the bottle quickly. I lower the bottle and say, "I don't mind starving, but you have to bring me water more often."

"We don't have to bring you anything at all. You should be happy I remembered you hadn't had water in a while. If it was up to Alessio, you wouldn't have any."

"If I die, how am I useful to you?" I rasp, wiping my wet chin.

"Frankly, I don't think Boss want's you dead yet. He just doesn't mind torturing you."

"Well, I need water to survive, so maybe you should think about that. You can't torture a dead man."

"Look, I'll pass your concerns along to management," he says snidely. "But you need to get it through your thick, stupido head that I'm not calling the shots. You already know that, so stop whining to me all the time." Despite his harsh words, I swear I glimpse a hint of regret in his mustard brown eyes. I suspect he feels sorry for me. Is that something I could use to my advantage in the future? I certainly hope so.

"I guess I work as bait, dead or alive? Either way, you're hoping Valentino will show?"

"Yep." He grimaces. "But like I said, I don't think Boss wants you dead yet. He's looking forward to you dying in front of Valentino. Alessio has a dramatic flair for things."

"Your boss is a fool. He's going to die along with us," I growl.

Shrugging, Yellow Eyes says, "I think he knows that. I don't think he cares."

I shake my head and sit back down. Yellow Eyes is shrewd enough not to get close enough for me to grab him, and standing takes more energy.

"Anyway," he says moving away, "You enjoy the rest of your day. I have to go into town later, anything you want me to pick up? Maybe some flowers, or a comforter with a few accent pillows?"

I don't bother responding. He's just being an asshole.

Left once more in my little prison, I get up and move around the perimeter of the room. I haven't really explored every inch of the cellar yet. I've mostly checked over the area I'm being kept in. Unfortunately, my search doesn't reveal any secret passages to freedom. Just a lot more old clothing, books, and fishing poles.

I decide the fishing poles will make the best weapon. If I snap one of them and get a sharp edge, I can use it to stab my kidnappers. I grab a fiberglass pole and I put the tip against the ground. I apply pressure with my weight, and it doesn't take too many tries before it snaps. I'm frustrated when it breaks off without producing a sharp edge. I try that two more times, and each time the edges are flat.

I let loose a string of curses in Italian, but I hold onto the broken pole. It's not sharp, but with enough force, I could thrust that through someone's eye socket. Maybe through their stomach, if luck is on my side.

Hasn't been so far.

Things could change. Situations like these evolve. I need to keep a positive attitude if I'm going to make it out alive.

I continue breaking fishing poles, and trying to get a sharp edge. It's not like I have a lot else to do. My weapon making is interrupted by the sound of raised voices from behind the door at the top of the stairs. Frowning, I listen, straining my ears to hear what's being said. I find it hard to believe Yellow Eyes and Alessio are having a quarrel. Yellow Eyes is too submissive and loyal to challenge Alessio. I continue listing, but before I can actually figure anything out, the door at the top the stairs opens.

I watch warily as three men I don't recognize shuffle down the stairs. There's one older alpha with short gray hair, wearing a dark designer suit with a pink tie. Accompanying him are two younger alphas. None of them look particularly friendly. There's no sign of Alessio and Yellow eyes. Who are these jokers? Do they work for Alessio?

They don't see me at first because the lighting is poor down in the cellar. But as they near the cot area, the older alpha spots me. He curls his lips and says something to the other two men in Italian. I don't catch what he says. I speak Italian, but he speaks too softly for me to grasp his words. One of the guys turns around and heads back upstairs.

The remaining younger alpha moves toward me and I back away. I'm used to having a weapon. I feel naked without one. "Who the fuck are you?" I growl, hoping if I sound aggressive enough they'll back off.

"I'm Carlo Ferrari," the older alpha says in a tone that implies I should know who he is.

I've heard of the Ferrari syndicate, and I know there are blood ties there with the Abella family. I don't, however, recognize this alpha. "Where's Alessio?"

"That's what you want to know?" He gives the grungy area a disgusted look. He tugs a handkerchief from his suit pocket and presses it to his nose. "I'd be more concerned with yourself. This place is a pigsty. Alessio must really want you to suffer to keep you down here."

"I don't suppose you're the Cavalry?"

He purses his lips and shakes his head. "Sorry."

"Do you work for Alessio?" I ask, frowning. He has an air of authority, which makes me think he probably doesn't take orders from many people.

He laughs. "No. He's my cousin."

"I see." I rub the back of my neck, trying to get a bead on the guy. He's staring at me like I'm the prize heifer at the fair. But he's not bothering to explain his presence in my little dungeon.

The younger alpha who went back upstairs comes down the steps. This time he has Alessio with him, and Alessio doesn't look happy. I'm surprised, but not entirely displeased, to see Alessio's lip is bleeding. He also has a cut on one cheek. My pulse picks up as I begin to comprehend the situation.

It would appear, Alessio is no longer running things.

I'm not sure whether to be happy about that or worried. Carlo has already admitted he's not my ally. He's been frank about the fact that he's not here to rescue me. To be completely honest, I'm getting a really bad feeling about Carlo. Some people say, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." But that's not always the case. Sometimes the enemy of your enemy is still your enemy. I get the sense that might be the situation with Carlo.

The younger alpha shoves Alessio toward me. He stumbles slightly, but catches himself. That's good because I'd be inclined to let the punk faceplant.

He faces Carlo and the others, chin lifted. "You must be out of your mind if you think you can get away with this, Carlo," Alessio snarls. "If my father were alive, he'd have your throat slit."

Laughing, Carlo says, "But your father isn't alive, is he? He's gone. Somebody needs to step up as the head of the Abella syndicate."

"I have stepped up," hisses Alessio.

"Oh, come on now, Alessio. That isn't true." Carlo examines his glossy nails and then looks up. "You've been too busy planning your revenge on Valentino to focus on your organization."

"Of course I want revenge," mutters Alessio. "Who wouldn't in my place?"

Carlo grimaces. "What happened to Uncle Joseph was unfortunate. But he brought Valentino's wrath on himself. Valentino had to do what he did. You're lucky his retribution wasn't worse."

"My father died because of what Valentino did to him." Alessio's voice shakes with anger.

"Your father knew the risks when he kidnapped Nico." Carlo shrugs. "It's unfortunate his health was poor and the stress took its toll. But Valentino didn't kill your father. You're too blinded by grief to see that and to listen to reason. You've gone off the deep end trying to get vengeance on Valentino, and that's forced me to take action."

"Don't pretend this is some noble deed, Carlo. You've always wanted to take over our syndicate." Alessio touches his swollen lip and stares at the drops of blood on his fingertips. "Getting revenge is my duty as my father's son, and as the head of the Abella Syndicate."

"Your fixation with revenge is worrisome. Your men are concerned about your mental state."

"That's bullshit. My men trust me to lead them. If there was a problem, my captains would have told me."

Carlo shrugs. "They're not comfortable talking to you about their concerns because you're so volatile. They don't dare approach you."

Alessio curls his lip as he glares at his cousin. "And you're implying they're talking to you instead?"

They're both distracted which would be the perfect moment to make a break for it. If not for the other two alphas, I might have tried. But I wouldn't get far with those two young thuggish alphas hovering.

Carlo's tone is bored as he says, "Your men aren't sure they want you leading them, Alessio. It pains me to be the one to tell you that. We're family after all. I take no pleasure in making this move on you during your time of grief."

Alessio spits blood onto Carlo's shoe. "Liar. You've always wanted to take over from Father. Don't pretend you give two shits about me. At least give me that much respect."

Carlo looks down at his shoe and he bends down to wipe the blood from his shiny leather footwear with his handkerchief. When he straightens, he sighs. "You're my blood. Of course this isn't pleasant for me. I loved Uncle Joseph like my own father, but something has to be done. Your men need a real leader."

"Fuck you, Carlo," snaps Alessio.

I laugh gruffly and Carlo glances at me. "You find this amusing?"

"Not really."

"Then why are you laughing?" Carlo arches one dark brow.

"Because both the Abella and Ferrari syndicates are toast if you two clowns are running the show." I shake my head, ignoring Alessio's disgruntled harrumph. "I've never seen such a disorganized bunch. Neither one of you are born leaders."

Carlo scowls. "What would you know about leading? You do Valentino's bidding."

"I don't need to be the one giving orders to know a true leader when I see one. I respect Valentino. I'd die for him without a second thought. That's how it's supposed to be. Valentino inspires loyalty. You're never going to inspire devotion by backstabbing your own blood."

"My men are already loyal to me," snaps Carlo.

"But the Abella men aren't. After this move, I doubt they'll ever follow you. They'd more readily follow Alessio even though he's young. He bit off more than he could chew by grabbing me, but his men will respect how loyal he is. You're showing that you'll do anything to get more power. That doesn't inspire men to lay down their lives."

Carlo takes a menacing step toward me. "You should watch how you talk to me."

"Why? I'm a dead man no matter which one of you is in charge." I glance at Alessio and find him watching me. His expression is odd, but I don't have time to muse. I gesture to him. "Is Alessio young? Yeah, he is. You should have stood beside him during this difficult time. Instead, you're betraying him. You should have honored your uncle's wishes for Alessio to take his place. Instead, you're greedy. That greed will get you killed."

"No one will ever know about this, and I'm not interested in your opinion. You know nothing of what my uncle wanted. I've always been the backup plan should something happen to Alessio." Carlo smile is cold. "My uncle trusted me to run his syndicate."

"He never expected you to try and kill me," rasps Alessio.

Carlo shakes his head as he eyes his younger cousin. "You act like I wanted this. It's your impetuous behavior that has brought this on."

"No, it's your greed for power that has brought this on," Alessio growls.

Carlo's jaw clenches. "I'm done discussing this. Your plan was foolish. Reckless. Now this is where we are. The hard truth is you're both going to die. The scene will be staged to show you murdered Dario, and then took your own life."

"I'd never do that," Alessio says angrily. "Anyone who knows me knows I'd never take my own life."

"It doesn't matter," Carlo says gruffly. "Even if there are those who don't believe you'd kill yourself, they'll all just assume Valentino killed you. No one would fault him for murdering you, not after you killed his second."

One of the young alphas comes over and says something quietly in Carlo's ear. Carlo scowls and says, "Right now? Can't you tell her I'm busy?"

The young alpha winces. "I tried, sir."

"Well, try harder," Carlo rumbles.

The young alpha looks like he'd love to crawl into a hole rather than push back against his boss, but he takes a breath and says "I'm so sorry, sir. Mrs. Ferrari insists you promised her you'd accompany her to the gala tonight. She really wouldn't listen when I told her you were otherwise engaged."

"I thought that stupid gala was next month," Carlo snaps irritably.

"It appears not, sir." The alpha grimaces.

"This is ridiculous. There will be other galas," growls Carlo, giving us an impatient look. "I don't have time for one of her tantrums right now."

"I'm sorry, sir," the young alpha repeats yet again. "Shall I tell her you'll call her back later, and that you won't be joining her?"

"No," mutters Carlo, eyeing us. "I'll never hear the fucking end of it if I blow her off tonight. Jesus, it's like she's trying to fuck things up for me."

The young alpha shoots a dismissive glance at me and Alessio. "If you'd like, sir, Harlan and I can handle these two. It might be better if they die while you're with Mrs. Ferrari at a public event."

Carlo exhales roughly. "No, I need to be here when it happens. But I can't rush things." He rubs his jaw, his expression assessing. "Everything has to be perfectly staged. I didn't get where I am by outsourcing my most important moves. I can't afford for there to be even one loose end. Nothing must lead the cops to me, and nothing must clue in the Abella's men that I had hand in Alessio's death."

"Harlan and I would be very thorough, sir."

Sighing, Carlo shakes his head. "No. I can't trust anyone with this. It's too important. I won't be able to relax unless I know beyond a doubt these two are dead. One mistake could fuck up the entire operation."

"Yes, sir. As you wish." The young alpha nods politely. If he's insulted by his boss's lack of trust, he doesn't show it.

Carlo turns back to us, impatience etched in the lines of his face. "Looks like you two get a reprieve until tomorrow morning."

"Does Charmaine know what you're planning?" Alessio sounds wounded. "I find it hard to believe she'd be okay with you murdering me."

"She has no idea." Carlo wrinkles his brow. "She's rather fond of you, kid. Your death will break her heart."

"Still, you're going to do it," mutters Alessio.

"I have to. It's the perfect moment for this move. You're behavior has given me my chance to take what I deserve." Carlo shrugs and turns away, heading for the stairs. "Enjoy your last night on earth, boys. I'm sorry I can't provide a fancy final meal or anything."

Alessio lets a string of curse words fly as he flips off his cousin's retreating back.

I don't bother wasting my energy on anger. I move to sit on the cot, feeling some relief. Because of that phone call, I now have until morning to figure a way out of this nightmare. It's not much time, but it's better than Carlo putting a bullet in my brain right this minute.

Once the big door at the top of the stairs clangs shut, Alessio stands awkwardly staring at me. Now that the others are gone, it's probably sinking in that he's at my mercy. I'm sure the kid is shitting his pants to be left alone down here with me. He doesn't have to worry though. As much as I'd love to strangle him, I don't have time to waste on him. Taking out my anger on him won't get me out of this mess.

"Why do you look so fucking calm?" he grates out.

"Would you rather I cry and scream with frustration?" I laugh. "Sorry, Kid, that's not my style.

He hesitates. "No, I'm not saying that. But you don't even look at all worried."

I glance up at him, taking in the nervous twitch of his cheek. He looks young and scared, and against my will, I feel sorry for him. I've been betrayed in the past by my own blood and it's painful as hell.

"How… how come you don't look worried?" he asks quietly.

"Probably because I don't plan on dying tomorrow."

He moves closer, although he still keeps some distance between us. "How are you going to pull that off?"

"Don't know yet."

He chuffs. "Carlo isn't going to just let you go."

"Obviously." I lie down on the cot, putting my arms behind my head.

He moves closer. "So what's your plan?"

"Don't know yet," I repeat testily.

"You really think you can figure a way out of this?" His voice is hushed.

I don't respond. I stare up at the stained ceiling, trying to decide if I want to try and save Alessio too. After the way he's treated me, I should let him die. He deserves everything horrible that will happen to him. He's the reason I'm in this mess. Of course, if I can't come up with a plan, saving his ass is a moot point.

"Answer me," he commands. "Why are you so sure you can outsmart Carlo?"

When I still don't answer him, he stares at me in silence for a bit, then he inches closer. He clears his throat and says in a snooty voice, "Move your feet and make room for me to sit."

I lift my head and squint at him. "Excuse me?"

His chin rises. "You heard me. Make room for me to sit. The cot isn't just for you." He looks like a snobby little prince the way he's staring down his nose at me.

I sit up on my elbows and give an incredulous laugh. "You've got to be shitting me."

He doesn't respond, he reaches down and grabs hold of my feet. Then he pushes them toward the wall. Next, he brushes off the spot where they were, and he gingerly sits down on the rickety cot. The little bed creaks alarmingly, and for one second, I'm pretty sure we're both going to end up on our asses. But somehow, the cot holds.

"Bed hog," he mumbles.

I'm tempted to wrap my legs around the little shit's neck and choke him out. But I control my murderous rage and simply watch him in silence. He eventually turns to look at me. His expression is stuck-up, but there's a lot of fear and uncertainty in his pretty eyes. I fucking hate that my heart flutters as our eyes meet. I resent the attraction I still feel for him.

He swallows loudly, and the says, "We should work together."

"Seriously?" I arch one brow.

"Sure. I… I can help you," he says softly. "It's better if there are two of us. You'll never be able to pull anything off without my help."

"Still," I rumble, "I kind of like the idea of leaving you here to die."

His mouth thins. "Be smart. Use your brain, not your emotions. You know that two is a better number than one."

"We're still out numbered."

"Yes." He shifts so that his knees are pointing toward me. His hip touches my leg. Is he aware of that, or is he too distracted to notice? "But I'll do whatever you tell me to do. I have to survive this so I can have Carlo murdered. How dare he pull this shit on me?"

"Forgive me if I don't care about your problems right now. It's your fault I'm even in this fucked up situation."

He turns his head away, avoiding my gaze. "I'm not going to apologize. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"You're stupid, kid. If you want me to help you, you need to think before you speak."

He meets my gaze and a spark of resentment glimmers in his eyes. "I don't lie well. There's no point in me pretending I regret what I did to you. I still blame you and Valentino for my father's death. Nothing about that has changed."

I can't help but laugh. He's like an angry little kitten hissing at Godzilla. "You're unreal. You should shut up before I make you shut up."

I expect him to give some snide, mouthy remark, but instead, he leans toward my face. He's so close, his warm breath puffs over my lips and I'm embarrassed when my dick gets hard. I hate the sexual power this brat has over me.

"Come on, Dario," he purrs. "You don't really want to leave me here to die, do you?"

He's so cocky. He knows I'm lusting after him and he's trying to use that to his advantage. I'm tempted to head butt him, but I'm reticent to mess up his pretty face. Instead, I move quickly and shove him off the cot, and he lands on his ass with a yelp.