37. Dante

Chapter 37

Dante

I couldn’t get Zola out of my mind.

I couldn’t reach her, or see her, and night after night, I couldn’t push away the memory of her in my arms. I woke up in a heated sweat with the memory of her skin and its taste on my tongue and my heart racing out of control. She mattered to me, more than any woman probably ever had. So much more was at stake. It felt as though I had carelessly given up control of my family’s well-being to the government and it wasn’t something I could stomach. Yet there was nothing I could do.

My men had sent me long-range photos of her painting her bedroom. Given the sorry state of the house they had put her in, she must have taken it upon herself to handle it.

The program had always been known for its low budget, but the less-than-stellar effort got on my nerves. To start with they shouldn’t have moved her to a house in the middle of nowhere. It would have made far more sense to hide her in a high-rise where security could be monitored at all times and access could be easily restricted.

Where she was, and without my men guarding her, she was a sitting duck.

Ugo had always lived in a fortress-like home, and since the announcement of the trial, he hardly ever left his residence and had made the security around him even more impenetrable. We were two adversaries circling each other. Both could not survive this battle. It was either him or me.

One thing I knew for sure. While he was alive Zola would never be safe. I was certain, just like me, Ugo knew exactly where she was, but he was biding his time. He was one of the most patient men I knew. He never forgot an insult and he always got his revenge.

His preferred strategy was to wait in hiding and then strike with a single, fatal blow. One day, when she was least expecting it, he would attack and no matter how many detectives were guarding her, he would kill her.