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“We are a family, aren’t we? And, Cesare, while I can understand your grief and the threats that came with it, I’m not above single-handedly starting a war,” as the words sting, he sits up and glowers at me.
“You would start a war because of the pretty baker?” He barks.
“I need twenty men,” I ignore his tantrums, “For all I care, we can either be family or enemies,” I spin, “Now it’s up to you to decide which will it be,” and stomp out of his presence.
He will cave. “Also,” I add as I am leaving, “he took Olivia thinking it was your daughter, Sofia, if that makes any difference to you.” Then I turn and go.
For now, I need to ensure the ship and boats are ready, and the crews are on board.
Damien wants us to do this at sea, and that's fine with me. Frankly, he could ask us to do this in hell, and I would meet him there.
For her, I would.
* * *
Fuck. I didn’t know it was going to take two fucking hours to get to the meeting point. And another half hour to get a boat from my ship to the Bratva’s.
Liam is beside me, and three of my men are on the same boat with us.
Olivia hates large bodies of water. She gets sick at the sight of them. I found out about this on a date with her. We cozied up to see a movie with sharks haunting travelers. It wasn’t the sharks she was scared of—it was the water.
She can’t stand to look at it, even if it’s a painting or a photo. And while I know Damien isn’t privy to this information, still, fuck him for putting her through this.
I stare down at my wristwatch, then look back up.
“Enjoying the view?” Liam speaks, and I’m a bit surprised he hasn’t said anything since the ship.
“Give it a rest,” I cluck, then stand as the boat closes the small gap to stop beside the Bratva’s ship. It’s a big ship in the middle of nowhere. The whole structure is deserted, except for the crew that keeps it running.
Finally, someone comes to us and lets down a ladder. I go first while the men keep watch with their guns in hand, ready to shoot if anyone makes a funny move.
Liam comes after me while I take my guns out of my holster. I’m looking out for him and sending a message to the ship crew, who have returned to their usual duties.
There is only one container on the deck and the padlock on it is visibly open, just hanging there.
I strut cautiously towards it, but Liam beats me to it, throwing the door open and shielding us both with the door frame as if anticipating an open fire.
Nothing.
We look at each other suspiciously. I step out from behind the door to see Olivia wincing, with her mouth gagged, hands and legs tied, curled up on one side of the container.
I dash in. Damien is not here. No men are guarding her.
Olivia opens her eyes, and as soon as she sees me, she immediately starts sobbing. My baby. I crouch in front of her and stroke her cheek. I see angry fingerprints on it and grit. I will pay Damien back and double for touching her.
I gently peel the tape off her mouth, and she breathes.
“Ronan,” she sobs.
“Baby,” I haul her off the floor while two of my men and Liam watch around for any sign of Damien or his men. “We are at sea, and I know how much you hate this… Just close your eyes and hold on to me, babe, it will help,” I breathe as I scoot her into my arms. I pull the twist from around her wrist, and after a little struggle it comes off, freeing her. Then I take the bind off her legs.
Olivia keeps her eyes shut as I carry her out of the container, over the deck and gently help her climb down the ladder.
I jump down into the boat, then change her position to cradle her as I sit.
“You can open your eyes now,” I whisper but she shakes her head. I plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You are safe, babe,” these words are more for my panicking heart than for her ears.
I hold her tightly.
