75. Dante

Chapter 75

Dante

" T hey’ve taken Giotto, Boss."

“What?” I shouted.

“They got him on his way here.”

My heart sank. For a few seconds, I couldn't think. Giotto! Not Giotto. Then I knew exactly what I had to do. I owed him. I picked up my phone and called Ugo.

"I’m aboard my yacht and my Captain has just opened a splendid bottle of Petrus, Pomerol. Come over. We can drink and talk," he cordially invited and ended the call.

A wise man would say walking without any protection or weapons into Ugo’s den as I was, was a death sentence. But I had a secret weapon in my bag of tricks. I had a psychopath’s burning desire, not to save his son, but not to lose to me. To lose his only son to me would rankle like a cancer forever.

I made peace with my chances and went aboard.

I was thoroughly frisked and led to the top deck. Immediately, I saw the man who had been the bane of my existence since I was a kid. He was wearing a blue shirt and white trousers and standing by the railing, staring out at the ocean. The wind teased his hair and there was nothing to suggest that evil lived inside him.

He sensed my presence and turned.

"Ah, there you are," he said.

He nodded at his men and they disappeared from sight.

"Come, come. It's been years. Let us drink."

He led the way to a pure white, curved sofa. On the white table was an open bottle of wine and two glasses. He sat down and gestured for me to join him. I could smell the fragrance of the wine as he poured it out.

He held the glass up and studied the color of the wine. “This is my favorite wine, you know. I only drink it on special occasions.”

“What’s the occasion?” I asked.

He smiled softly and turned to look at me. “You are the occasion. I’m celebrating having you here. You’ll probably laugh, but I’ve hated and loved you in equal measure. For a while, you were the son I never had.”

“You have a son now.”

His grip on the stem of the wine glass tightened. “Yes.” He took a deep breath. “How is he?”

“This was taken yesterday.” I brought a photo out of my pocket. A photo of him lying on a carpet and laughing uncontrollably while his nanny tickled his belly.

He took the photo and stared at it for a long time, then he carefully put it down on the table. His eyes were downcast. “I supposed I should thank you for not hurting him.”

I shrugged. “As you said, I’m too squeamish for this job.”

“Mmmm … you’re not drinking. The wine is not poisoned, you know.”

“I know that. It’s not your style to ruin good wine.” I took the glass and swallowed a mouthful. I swirled it on my tongue and nodded approvingly. “Brilliant. You always did have excellent taste.”

He looked deep into the red liquid in his glass. “Yes, and you were the only one who could appreciate it.”

At that moment, one of his men appeared and nodded at him. He nodded back and looked at me and suddenly everything changed. He was no longer the urbane host. He was looking at me with undisguised glee.

The boat was being unmoored and we were about to sail away to the ocean. His intentions were becoming clearer. He was going to torture me, get the information he wanted, and then he was going to dump my body in the middle of the ocean. In a place where nobody would be able to find it.

However, I was wearing a tracker and my men were ready with speed boats that were waiting just out of sight. All they needed was a signal from me.

“I’ve spoken to Tommy. He’s agreed to take the rap for you.”

I leaned back and stared at him. “So why did you take Giotto?”

“To get you here. Why else?” he said simply.

It was clear I had walked into a trap, but what kind I didn’t know yet. “Why did you want me here?”

“Bait. I used her to get to you and I used you to get to her.”

I frowned. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Marco’s daughter is on board.”

I jumped to my feet. “You’re lying,” I yelled, but I knew he wasn’t.

“You forget you’ve been making plans to destroy me for a few months, I’ve been doing it for years, more than a decade. I know everything about you. Even your secret hideaway. When you pulled out most of your men to follow you, my men sent a photograph of you boarding my boat to Marco’s daughter.”

He laughed. “It was easier than taking candy from a baby. They told her the only way to save you was to come away with them and she willingly came out of the fortress you’d built. Like a little lamb to slaughter.”

I felt as if I was losing my mind. I was so livid I wanted to rush at him and strangle his thick ugly neck. I could deal with anything as long as it didn’t involve Zola being in danger. Now that she was in the equation I couldn’t even think straight.

“Would you like to go to her?” he asked glibly.

“Yes,” I hissed.

As if we had been monitored the whole time, a few of his men came up and gathered around me. My hands were twisted to my back. Pain shot from my chest, but all I cared about was getting as quickly as possible to Zola.

Once I was handcuffed with zip ties, they dragged me down a short flight of stairs. A door was opened and someone shoved me hard from behind into a cabin empty but for a chair with my Zola on it. Her hands were secured behind her back and her ankles were tied to the front legs of the chair, but they had not harmed her … yet. There were no new bruises, only the old ones that were slowly turning from blue and purple to dirty-yellow.

Her wide terrified eyes looked at me anxiously as if checking to see if I was alright. “Dante,” she cried.

“Shut up,” one of the men growled and roughly kicked the chair she was tied to.

She screamed with fear and I saw red.

“You bastard,” I snarled and instinctively, like a maddened bull, I rushed forward and swung my knee into his groin. With a roar of pain, he went crashing to the floor.

The rest of the men were on me in seconds. They began to kick the shit out of me. I could hear Zola’s screaming and begging for them to leave me alone. I regretted that I hadn’t been able to control myself. Now she had to watch me get beaten to a pulp.

“That’s enough,” Ugo ordered from the doorway, and instantly, they moved back.

Zola was crying uncontrollably and I couldn’t even reach up to wipe the blood dripping into my eyes. We were in a bad situation. A very bad situation.