Page 99 of Savage Don

“Where is her room?” I ask, as if I don’t already know.

“This way,” Domenico huffs, stepping ahead of me.

I let him lead me up a creaky old set of stairs and I have a hard time imagining how Francesca could ever sneak out of this noisy house without being caught.

The mystery only serves to impress me. There’s more to this girl than meets the eye.

Hell, with enough convincing, maybe she’ll even help me find a few spots around here to hide some surveillance equipment.

Lord knows I need the fucking advantage.

There’s still been no progress on finding my rat. Even with Domenico being watched like a hawk, he hardly ever steps outside of these walls.

We’ve tried getting to the guards he trusts to watch over the inside of his mansion, but they hardly ever leave either.

Why would they? From what Francesca tells me, they get all of their needs satisfied right here. Sonia makes sure of that.

“I’m sure you’ll remember the room from when you ransacked it,” Domenico says.

Stepping aside, he points me forward. That’s when I see what’s happened to Francesca’s door.

It’s gone.

“I didn’t take the door,” I sneer. As quickly as my lips curl upwards, though, I wipe that protective instinct from my face.

This is no time to give myself away.

Still, the anger remains.

What have they been doing to you, kitten?

Domenico stays in the hallway as I step inside the messy room. Stale food and dirty plates cover nearly every flat surface. In the middle of it all, Francesca sits on her bed, head tucked between her knees.

When she hears my steps creak against the old floorboards, she looks up.

There’s no surprise in her glorious fucking gaze.

She’s been expecting me.

Or maybe she’s just too exhausted to react. It looks like she hasn’t slept in days.

The sight makes me furious.

This is supposed to be the mother of my heir. My future queen. How dare anyone disrespect her like this? She’s living in squalor.

Fucking hell.

I’ll make up for it tonight. I have to.

“Go away,” she mumbles, when I take another step towards her.

“What happened here?” I ask, not caring if Domenico hears any of this.

“None of your business.” There’s no venom in Francesca’s words. Only weariness. It pulls down on my heartstrings like a lead weight.

“Well, you’re leaving,” I tell her, taking another step forward. “We’re leaving.”

“I’m not allowed to go anywhere.”