Page 230 of Merciless Daddy

“You think I do not know that?” I asked.

“I think you know it and are trying to bury it under bodies.”

My hand fisted in his shirt.

For one hot second, I wanted him to hit me. I wanted pain that had edges. Something I could answer with my hands.

Then Serafina stepped between us.

Not cautiously.

Directly.

She put one hand against my chest and looked up at me with her father’s dark eyes.

“That is grief speaking,” she said. “Not my commander.”

I froze.

Not because she had ordered me. Because she was right. My grip loosened from Pietro’s shirt.

Serafina did not move her hand.

“Look at the facts,” she said. “Gianni has not asked for money. He has not asked for Kiryl. He has not made a ransom demand. Why?”

I looked at the map and saw nothing but red markers.

“He wants Yelena,” I said.

“Yes. But not dead. Not hidden forever. He wants her frightened, but alive. Coherent. Legally useful.”

My breath came shallow.

“He wants the marriage,” Serafina continued. “Her shares. Her public appearance beside him. He needs her to look as if she chose him.”

The room sharpened around the words.

Gianni did not need a corpse.

He needed Yelena’s face. Her voice. Her authority.

“He cannot take everything while keeping her in a basement,” I said.

“No,” Serafina replied. “He needs her in front of witnesses.”

Pietro adjusted his shirt collar where I had wrinkled it. His expression gave nothing away.

I looked at him.

“I am sorry, brother.”

“You can apologize after we get her back.”

Angela entered six hours later in hospital scrubs beneath Pietro’s coat.

Pietro stood immediately.

“You should be in bed.”