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“You have nothing to be sorry about, Mom. This isn’t your fault.”
She rubs my back before pulling away to look at me. Wiping the tears that I hadn’t realized shed from my eyes, she narrows in on the side of my face. “Look at what he did to you,” she says softly.
I lift my hand to my face and wince at the burning sensation. I suck in a breath, realizing the gravel must’ve pierced my skin when Fausto had my head buried in it.
“Fausto wouldn’t have had to get physical had Lux cooperated,” Angelo says as he takes a seat in the loveseat across from us.
I observe my surroundings to see if there’s anything I can use to our advantage to get out of here.
The front door of the cabin opens up to the living room on the left and the kitchen on the right with a small circular dining room table placed directly in front of a large window that overlooks the front porch. The living room is small with only two loveseats positioned on both sides of a brown coffee table and the armchair at the head, facing the wood burning fireplace surrounded by stone. The cabin seems fully furnished, as if someone was living here.
Glancing straight ahead, my attention is pulled to picture frames hanging on the wall. There are a few of me growing upand a couple with my mom and me. The one in the center is what throws me off the most. It’s a recent picture of my mom and me on a beach down in Florida, but we’re not the only ones in the picture. Angelo’s in the picture. It looks so real you’d have no idea it was photoshopped unless you were there.
What the hell is this place supposed to be?
Bringing my attention back to my mom, I ask, “Has he had you here this entire time?”
My mom nods.
“You said you weren’t going to hurt her.” She addresses Angelo who’s sitting comfortably in the loveseat with one leg crossed over the other and an arm draped across the back cushion.
“It’s fine, Mom.”
“I need the first aid kit. Her face needs to be cleaned up. I can see specks of dirt in the cuts. It’ll surely cause an infection if I don’t get them out.”
With a flick of his hand, Angelo directs Fausto with a silent command. He takes off down the short hallway, and it’s not long before I hear him open a cabinet and ruffle through some things. We sit in silence for a few moments before Fausto returns with a first aid kit and hands it to my mom.
She opens it and sifts through the contents as I peer over, looking to see if there’s anything in there of use.
“There’s nothing in there that you can use against us, Lux.”
Snapping my gaze to Angelo’s, I give him a cold, dead look, to which he chuckles.
“I learned that lesson when your mother stabbed me with the small scissors that were in there.” He lifts the sleeve of his suit jacket and points to a small mark on his forearm that looks like it’s mostly healed now. “Seems like you two have that in common, huh?” His smirk delves deep into my skin and makesme want to wrap the gauze from the first aid kit around his throat and listen as he takes his last breaths.
“Why are you doing this? What was the point of kidnapping my mom and I? What is this place?”
My mom attempts to bring the alcohol wipe up to my face, but I shake her off. She sighs but retracts her hand.
“I did this for you, Lux. You and your mother, of course.”
I scoff. “What the hell are you talking about, Angelo?”
“Don’t you think it’s about time you start calling me dad?”
I tilt my head and small lines form on my forehead as my brows shoot up while I come to the realization that this man is delusional. “You’re a fucking psychopath,” I spit out. His spine straightens and he squares his shoulders.
He brings himself to the edge of his seat as if he’s ready to pounce. There’s a cold, cunning glint in his eyes. The sinister look is a complete one-eighty from where he was. “Watch your damn language when you’re speaking to me.”
“Why did you do this?” I grind out, needing to have answers. “And Matteo. Why did you send him to that warehouse?”
“Matteo needs to be eliminated,” Angelo says. His words are like a punch to the gut, taking away my breath. “Just as much as Giuseppe Silvestri.”
“What did you do, Angelo?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“I’m tired of Giuseppe using my port. He thinks he has all of the power and control, but he needs to understand that the only reason he’s been able to do all of his trafficking is because ofmyport. My port has given him the power and money he has now.” He shakes his head. “But not for long.”
Shifting his wrist, he glances down at his watch. “Right about now, Giuseppe shouldn’t be a problem anymore. And neither should that husband of yours. Then guess who’ll have full access to both ports in the city,” he says, subtly glancingdown to my ring finger. I subconsciously take the sleeve of my sweatshirt and cover my hand.
