CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ADELINA

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The thing about being the daughter of a mob boss is that you hear a lot of things.

I know more than most people think I do. I suppose it’s a mixture of survival and curiosity.

Right now, as Jono leads me through the party, I know if I started screaming that I’d been kidnapped and asked for help, not a single person would help me.

The civilians know who I am and wouldn’t dare touch me. Their nervous and confused laughter would be met with a wink by a nearby crime family member.

By then, I’d be silenced.

My own father wouldn’t get close by the time Dante’s men moved in on me.

The man himself would make me pay.

I might like it. I might not.

No one is going to come to my rescue. Not tonight.

And when I’m back inside the Baldassare mansion, it’s just that much harder, if not impossible.

“Keep moving,” Jono says but doesn’t dare touch me.

I didn’t realize I’d slowed, but as I look around the room and tell my brain to think faster—harder—I’m no more clued up by the time we’re halfway to the restroom.

Think.

How am I going to get out of here? It feels like now or never.

During my incarceration, I’ve been either locked up or beside Dante with no hope of escape. This is the most freedom I’ve had.

But I know this venue.

The ball is held here each year without fail. The bathrooms are in the middle of the building and have no windows to climb out of, and even if I could create a weapon from something, Jono is twice my size.

It’d take a lot of noise and way more strength than I have to take him down.

Surprise would help, but I suspect the dick will stand outside the bathroom door like the good little guard he is.

My heart starts to sink.

“Adelina,” Jessica Rossi turns as we walk past.

I give her a friendly smile, but I’m not in the mood to talk. I haven’t seen her to ages, so I slow to say a quick hello, and as I do, I take in the half Italian woman who’s near my age and...

Size.

“Hi, Jess. It’s been months. How are you?” I place my hand on her arm. “My god, I so need to pee.”

“Oh, go, we can talk later.” She smiles.

“Join me. I want to hear how your honeymoon was,” I say eagerly.

I’m not interested in the slightest, but I eye her outfit and make a plan.

“I’d love to.” Her eyes brighten and she scoops up her full black skirt, hands her drink to someone and, with her mask clutched in her fingers, grins at me as she threads her arm through mine.

“Jesus,” Jono mutters behind us.

My heart thuds, but I keep a smile plastered on my face.

“I’ll wait out here. Five minutes.” Jono growls, and I shoot him a dark look.

Asshole.

I’ve known him for years and, yes, I know he has to obey orders, but it’s just another reason I hate this world. Holding a woman without her consent is fucking disgusting.

Not to mention illegal.

Not that anyone in this world cares about that. They all live by different rules. Even if I told Jessica what was going on, she would just pity me and carry on with her evening.

“You and Dante.” She winks, and I shrug, then bring up the honeymoon.

Jess forgets all about me and starts to describe the Maldives, how long they were there, the foods they ate, how much sex they had.

We push through the door to the restroom, and I try to remember all my fighting moves that my father made me take when I was a teenager.

A slither of guilt runs through me knowing I’m going to leave Jessica with a headache and a healthy dose of shame. But this is my life we’re talking about.

I need to get out of here.

Tonight you will sleep in my bed. Not as my prisoner, but as the woman I love.

Dante loves me?

He was going to propose...

If I’d said yes, I would have had a ring on my finger in less than a day.

He’s serious about keeping me and never letting me go. Which is why I need to run.

My kiss was goodbye.

Two days ago I probably would’ve bitten the asshole, but tonight...tonight I felt my heartache as I gazed upon his face for the last time.

One day, and I don’t know when, I know I will see his face on the news and learn that he’s dead.

Killed.

Assassinated.

Or possibly the death penalty.

Men in my world always have a mark on their back.

It will hurt me enough to hear it now than if I gave my heart and life to the infuriating man.

I wonder about the other man on the balcony with Dante. Was that Gianna’s guy? Is he going to kill him?

I hesitate and force myself to continue with my plans.

I can’t protect him, but he can control me.

I need to get out.

If I’m successful and once Dante learns I have gone, it will tip him over the edge. He will lose his damn mind.

There won’t be much time for me to get as far away as I can.

Who will he kill as a result?

What will he do to find me? It’s going to be harder to escape this man than it is my own father.

Do I really want to leave him?

The thought enters my mind without permission, shaking me to my core. What the hell Addy, run for crying out loud.

I do not want to be a part of this world anymore. I hate it. I despise the things they do. I hate the outdated and sexist mindset, treating women like assets. The horrendous activities I can barely acknowledge. I know I’ve only scratched the surface with what I know.

None of this is fiction to me like those who watch mafia movies or read books. I live in homes paid for by the pain and suffering of others.

Every piece of clothing.

Every bite I eat.

It’s all laced with evil.

Including Dante’s family.

Until today I’ve had little to no choice.

Now, at this very moment, I do. The window of opportunity is right fucking now.

“The ocean was so tranquil. The bluest blue I’ve ever seen, Adelina. My god. You must go,” Jessica continues.

She places her black mask on the counter beside the sink, and before she can glance at me, I have the velvet covered stool in my arms. I smash it over the back of her head.

She collapses to the floor.

Oh God. I hope she’s not dead.

I don’t have time to think about it.

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IN THREE MINUTES I have Jessica’s dress on, my hair pinned up differently and her black masquerade mask over my face.

I’m shaking with adrenaline as I drape my red dress over her body—I don’t have time to do anything more—and step out of the restroom.

“Yes, call me.” I try to disguise my voice in a high pitch and walk past Jono. Every step I take, my heart slams inside my chest like a drum.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Jessica’s dress is a full-length black gown, which she wore with black silk gloves. Her feet were a different size, so I still have my red heels on. They’re invisible under the full princess skirt, thankfully, but I don’t think these goons are fashion conscience enough to notice.

I near the end of the corridor and glance around, slightly limited by the mask I keep over my face.

No one grabs me.

No one yells.

Oh my god, I think I did it.

I want to run out the door to my freedom, but I stop myself and think. I find my brother in the crowd and then glance at the exit.

Shit.

What do I do?

I have no money. No phone. No...nothing.

I look over at the door which leads out to the balcony across the other side of the room and see Nick standing inside.

Weird.

Why isn’t he out there with Dante?

Keep moving—forget him.

I glance back at Leo and then move fast.

When I reach him, I place my hand on his arm and press my nails into his skin.

“Ouch, who—”

“Leo. It’s me. Get me out of here right now.” I hiss.

He physically reacts, straightening, and looks around.

“Dante is out on the balcony, but we need to hurry,” I add. “Now, Leo!”

“Fuck, okay.” He motions to his men and in seconds, I’m surrounded by ten Baldoni soldiers and escorted out of the building.

Then into one of my father’s vehicles.

I glance out the window, expecting Dante to come flying out as the driver accelerates.

He doesn’t.

I slump in the seat and led out a huge sigh. “Fucking hell.”

“How the hell did you pull that off?” Leo asks from beside me.

Oh, my god. I’m on my way home. Safe. Free.

Home.

I don’t even know where that is anymore.

I’ve thought about this moment a million times while locked up in my prison cell. I expected to feel many things, but empty was not one of them.

Loss permeates through me, and I stare out into the dark New York streets, imagining the fury and betrayal on Dante’s face when he learns what I’ve done.

I blink as my eyes fill.

“Guess I’m a Baldoni at heart,” I say coldly.