Chapter Three

The pilot announces that we're landing, and I walk over to where Grazia is lying, still asleep.

She looks peaceful, even though her makeup has left smudges on her face and her hair that was once perfectly done is now messy and unruly.

I wonder if she's going to make this harder than it needs to be, or if she's smart enough to listen and obey my commands.

Only time will tell.

I feel a small pang of sadness about her outburst earlier.

She's clearly feeling like her family doesn't care about her, and I could sense that she wanted me to believe that she matters more to her brothers than she probably does.

How sad to belong to such a powerful family, but not matter to your blood relatives.

It makes me see her in a new light, but it also makes me feel bad about using her in this way.

I set my teeth. I don't have time to feel bad about this. I have goals in mind, and I need her to help me achieve them.

I don't have time to feel sympathy for damsels in distress from old mafia families.

"Grazia, we're here," I say to her, pulling my gun out, but keeping it pointed at the ground for now.

My voice is loud enough to wake her but not scare her.

She's still passed out and not responding, so maybe the sleeping pill I crushed into her water was a little too strong. But keeping her quite was a priority.

I check her pulse. She's alive.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I really didn't want to hurt her.

I'll have to carry her out to the car. Luckily, she's small.

I doubt she weighs more than what I'm used to lifting while working.

Her petite frame actually looks even smaller than I remembered, lying vulnerable before me with her legs bound to the table.

There's no big, scary family members or security guards to protect her now.

I think about how her life must be, in the middle of danger all the time, but never really having to deal with it because of the protection around her.

We touchdown in Mexico, I untie Grazia's legs and carry her out to my waiting car, which I had left at the airstrip when we boarded the plane for America.

So far, things are working out even better than I had expected.

I lay Grazia down across the back seat and lock her in the car, getting into the front and placing my gun on the passenger seat, just in case she wakes up mid-journey and tries anything stupid.

I hate the idea of having a driver to take me places, even though Carlos keeps telling me he's happy to lend me his guy.

I can drive my own fucking car, and I like the independence of being able to get into my car and go places whenever I feel like it.

I'm taking Grazia to the tiny house I own on the beach. On the drive, I call my team and ask them to open up the house.

My beach house is smaller than the mansion that Carlos lives in, and a third of the size of the Baldini's place. But it's designed perfectly for me.

It's also right on the beach, which is what I like the best.

I had it decorated and kitted out so that it's both rustic and modern, and the security here would hold up against a full apocalypse if it needed to.

From the outside, it looks like a simple home, open to the elements and understated. But inside, there are cameras, a remote security system, and weapons hidden in every room—although I don't have to worry about those with Grazia, since she'd need my safe codes to get to them.

It's not the place I spend most of my time, but I come here to think and sometimes bring girls here instead of taking them home.

Usually, I don't have to drug and threaten them with a weapon, though.

Grazia is still asleep but breathing steadily. Now I know she's a lightweight, duly noted.

I carefully move her out of the back seat and again carry her all the way to the only bedroom in the house.

I bring her bags in and then leave her some water next to the bed, putting fruit and other snacks on the kitchen counter, all before locking the front door as I head to my own home.

I'm twenty minutes away from the beach house, which is close enough to get there quickly if I need to, but far away enough that the second house is unlikely to be found by any of my enemies.

The house I live in is not massive either, but it's where I can be by myself and enjoy my own company.

Carlos has always welcomed me into his home, and even offered me a room there for myself, but it's too busy and loud for me.

After I lost my parents while I was still a child, Carlos' family took me in, and I lived with them for many years, until I was old enough to buy this house.

While I am beyond grateful for their generosity, their home never felt like it was mine.

Now I spend my days with Carlos and his family, and then escape to my sanctuary as soon as the working day ends.

It's the perfect setup until I can work completely for myself.

Walking into my quiet house, I go right into my small office and sit down at my desk. There is plenty of work to do.

I open my laptop and start to type up my demands to the Baldinis.

It's simple, really.

All I want is for them to hand over certain trade routes to me. That way, all of the product that Carlos is pushing their way, will go through my routes, and that money will be owed to me.

I have picked out the routes that I already know will be the most profitable. I don't need them giving me their leftovers.

It"s not like I don't deserve this. They have the routes because they stole them from some other poor fuckers, so now I am taking them for myself.

I want immediate money, five hundred thousand dollars, transferred to me immediately to safeguard their sister—because I'm pissed off and I know that after this, Carlos will cut me off.

It's fine, as I am mostly self-sufficient, but I'm going to need cash flow to get some muscle onto my team, and to source a few more weapons, of course.

I send the email and lean back in the chair, holding my breath for a second, in anticipation of a reply.

Almost immediately, my personal phone goes off to tell me I have a text message, which cannot be from the Baldinis.

Picking it up, I can see it's from Carlos.

>> Marco, cousin, what the fuck are you doing? Qué te pasa, wey?

I choose to ignore it, he's not the person I want to be dealing with right now. But he sends another message after just a minute.

>> Bring the fucking girl back! What are you thinking?! We are about to close this deal, and you are fucking it up.

I sigh and decide to reply so that he doesn't try to call me.

>> Sorry, cousin, but this time I am thinking about me, and not you. This is what I need to do in order to create my own success.

>> Thinking about you??? Marco, you are about to blow this whole thing up. There will be no success for anyone. I will not allow this, Marco. You will be punished.

>> Okay, if that's what you want to do. I am not scared, Carlos. This is my game now. I have the girl, and you won't scare me into giving up this opportunity. Tell your dirty Italian mafia friends to listen to my demands, and they will get their precious sister back, unharmed.

>> Pendejo! You are a fool! My parents warned me not to take you too far into the business, but I didn't listen. Now I understand, because you are too stupid to know what is good for you.

"Fuck you, Carlos," I say out loud to the empty room. I'm not entertaining any more of these messages.

He can cuddle up with Luca Baldini and complain to him if he must.

Besides, if anyone is the pendejo, it's him.

Making friends with those Italians and leaving his own people in the gutters? What goes around comes around, and if wants to stay in bed with those thugs, he's going to suffer along with them.

My cousin has only made smart decisions up until now, but with age, he is getting more and more greedy, wanting to retire with as much money as he possibly can.

That means Raul will most likely take Carlos' place, and the cycle will begin again.

It is time for me to separate myself.

Slamming the phone down, I switch on the monitor above my desk.

An image flickers onto the screen, showing the inside of my beach house—one frame for each room.

Grazia is awake and eating the fruit I left for her in the living room. She has showered and changed and is back to looking ravishing.

I notice this involuntarily. I think about going over there to finish what she had started at the wedding but now is not the time.

I need to keep my mind as clear as possible, and having sex with that woman is not going to help me with that.

My fingers drum the edge of my desk as I think about my next steps.

I know that the Baldinis won't just roll over and give in to me—that would make them seem weak.

But I also know that their only sister is important to them.

Having her in my beach house at least means they won't find her, but they might bring their own muscle and try to.

I call my head of security into my office, and he appears within a few minutes. I'm glad that I insisted on keeping my own men on my payroll, rather than adding them to Carlos' like he had suggested I do.

He has always claimed that he is looking out for me, by keeping his family well-maintained. But I know that it's a lie—a farce.

Carlos likes to have the upper hand. Even with his siblings, he has always tried to make it so that they are indebted to him.

But now is when I break free from my cousin's control and begin to carve out my own path.

"Boss?" my security head, Diego, asks.

"Come in. I am expecting some unfriendly company."

"Okay, I'll make sure we're ready. Is there anything specific to worry about? Should I bring some of the weapons into the main house so that we are ready?"

"Do that, but I need more boots on the property too. Can you bring in your contacts? I want ten to twelve more men."

He's gotten me access to extra guys before, and they're usually trustworthy and reliable.

"Okay, I can arrange that." He nods.

This man has been in charge of keeping my home safe and updating me about risks to my safety for ten years now, and he's always done a stellar job.

The Baldinis might think they're the most powerful family around, but even they won't make it through my security.

"I also need three more men at the beach house, at least. But they have to be discreet. They can't enter the house. Keep them in the lookout sheds, watching the house and the road. No one in, and no one out. And if someone leaks the location, I will personally cut off each of their fingers and watch as they eat them. And then I will have their family watch as I rip their skin off their body inch by inch."

He nods and leaves the room, and I know I can trust him to get the job done.

Now that I have the security element sorted out, I take a moment to lean back in my chair and breathe.

This plan has been swimming around in my head for a few weeks, but it's still the quickest I've made a move for something important, simply because Grazia presented herself to me so perfectly.

The only thing left for me to worry about now is keeping her comfortable and complacent enough not to fight too much.

I look at her again, so tiny and feisty, with a calm confidence to her.

She's no stranger to this dangerous life, but I have no doubt that her brothers have done their best to keep her shielded from being in any danger herself.

So, I'm surprised, and maybe a little impressed, that she isn't a ball of emotion, scared and panicking about what is about to happen to her.

Hopefully, her brothers are quick to give me what I am asking for because I would hate to have to hurt her.

However, if that's what I need to do to get what I want, I will do it.