Page 22 of Torn By Fate

Vincenzo was many things… dangerous, unstable, arrogant… but he wasn’t part of my operation. He shouldn’t have known about Serafina’s movements, let alone the man following her.

His eyes darkened with sinister satisfaction. “I know everything, Adrian. People like to think I’m just a barbarian, not intelligent enough to play the game.” His chest rumbled with an amused chuckle. “They underestimate me. Always have.”

Vincenzo shrugged, the massive movement rippling through his shoulders. “Your wife’s stalker is good, whoever he is. Professional. Not an amateur. I think your wife is in danger, Adrian.”

The realization settled over me with suffocating weight.

Serafina was in danger.

My wife who had tried to kill me, who had fled across continents to escape me, now needed protection—from someone else.

How ironic.

Someone wanted what was mine.

The thought of anyone else laying a hand on her ignited something far more violent inside me than revenge.

“I need to find her,” I said, the words escaping before I could stop them.

Vincenzo’s scarred face split into a grin. “I thought you might say that.” He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before sliding it across the bar toward me. “She’s staying here. Small hotel. Room 312.”

I looked at the address on the screen, then back at Vincenzo. “Why are you helping me?”

Something shifted in his dark eyes, a look I couldn’t quite understand. “Because no one takes what’s ours. The Salvatores are at the height of their powers because the Castellanos put them there. Our families go back generations,” he said simply. “And she is a Salvatore bride. You claimed her. She’s yours, isn’t she?”

Yeah, she was fucking mine.

I stood, dropping enough euros on the bar to cover both our drinks. “Tell no one about this.”

“Your secrets are safe with me.” Vincenzo raised his glass in a mock toast. “For now.”

I left the bar without looking back, stepping into the cold night.

The street glistened with recent rain, the air fresh and clean after the stale atmosphere of the bar. My mind raced as I walked, heart thudding in my chest, pulse thundering in my ears.

The stranger following Serafina could be anyone. The possibilities were endless in our world, where grudges spanned generations and blood debts were never truly repaid.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Rocco’s number. He answered on the second ring.

“Change of plans,” I said as a greeting before he could utter any words. “I found her. But she’s got a tail. Male and professional. He has been tracking her since at least Prague.”

“Location?” He sounded immediately alert.

I gave him the address Vincenzo had provided. “I want to know who he is, who sent him, and what he wants with my wife.”

“I’m on it,” Rocco said. “What about you?”

I paused, looking up at the dark sky, the stars hidden behind heavy clouds. “I’m going to her.”

The words felt like surrender, an admission of something I wasn’t ready to name.

I had crossed oceans, hunting the woman who had betrayed me, armed with righteous anger and the certainty of vengeance.

The plan was to find her and make her pay for what she has done to me. I had sought her out for answers, and then I was going to bring her home, kicking and screaming… whether she liked it or not—I didn’t fucking care.

But now I found myself racing to her side for a different reason. This need inside me was driven by something far more primal than revenge.

Possession.