390Allesio’s POVThe Russo Don was a sniveling coward.I had seen men grovel before. Seen them bargain, beg, and spit venom when their backs were against the wall. But Dante’s father was the worst kind.A man who had built an Empire on blood and fear but had no stomach for his own suffering.He was bound to a chair in the Castillo estate’s basement, his face already swollen from the interrogation and blood dripped from his split lip, staining his expensive suit.Alaric stood in front of him, expression cold and detached. He had removed his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up, the metal of his rings catching the dim light as he flexed his fingers.I leaned against the wall, arms crossed while I watched them.“I’ll ask you one last time,” Alaric said, voice calm. “Where are the last of your men?”Russo coughed, spitting blood onto the floor. “You think—” He sucked in a breath. “You think killing me will erase my family’s legacy?”Alaric sighed. “No, but wiping out the last of your men will.
389Rosa’s POVI woke up screaming.The walls were closing in, the suffocating grip of Dante’s hands still lingering around my throat with his voice constantly ringing in my ears.“You belong to me.”“You will marry me.”“No one is coming for you.”I clawed at the sheets, my pulse hammering so violently it made my head spin. My body jerked, fighting off invisible chains. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there.But it felt like I was.The bed dipped, strong arms wrapping around my thrashing body.“Rosa.”My chest heaved, air scraping against my throat like razors. The panic clung to me, but the arms around me—Allesio—held me still, calming me.“It’s me, amor.” His breath was warm against my temple, his hands firm and gentle as he pulled me to his chest. “You’re safe.”I gasped, my hands fisting his shirt like a lifeline. Safe. That word felt foreign. My body was still convinced I was fighting for my life, but he was here, holding me together.“I—” My voice broke, and I hated it.I hated this.
388Allesio’s POVThe bodies of the Russo men were scattered across the compound like discarded trash, their blood staining the marble floors, the once-grand mansion reduced to rubble and smoke. Fire was still burning in what was left of the mansion.It was over.Dante was dead.His men had either surrendered or been wiped out.And Rosa—I turned, my eyes finding her instantly.She was standing near one of the black SUVs, blood splattered on her face, her dress torn and dirty, but her stance was strong. She was breathing hard, her eyes locked on the flames with her shoulders tense like she was still in fight mode.I moved toward her, my steps slow, controlled. “It’s done, Rosa.”Her fingers tightened around the gun still in her grip.I reached out, my hand covering hers. “It’s done.”She exhaled sharply, like she hadn’t fully processed it yet. Then, with a small nod, she finally relaxed, letting me pry the gun from her fingers.I tucked it into my waistband, then pulled her into me. S
387Rosa’s POVI watched the guard as he stepped into my room, a cocky smirk on his lips. He probably thought I had given up by now. He was wrong.My hands shot up, grabbing the sides of his head, and with one sharp twist—crack.He crumpled like a sack of meat.I barely spared him a glance as I bent down, stripping him of his gun and knife. My heart was pounding, but not from fear. From anticipation.Tonight, I was done playing the helpless prisoner.Tonight, I was going to make Dante regret everything.Gunfire erupted outside the mansion, rattling the walls.I exhaled sharply. They came.Allesio.For one second, my chest tightened. He was here.Then the moment passed, and I slipped into the hallway, gun raised, eyes sharp.The compound was chaos. Explosions shook the ground, firelight flickering against the walls. Dante’s men scrambled, barking orders at each other.I used the distraction to move.Gun in one hand, knife in the other, I crept through the halls, staying low. The air re
386Allesio’s POVThe warehouse smelled like sweat and gunpowder.We had spent the last twenty-four hours gathering intel, tracking down leads, and interrogating every low-level Russo bastard we could get our hands on. And we had nothing.Nothing but my own rage threatening to crack my ribs.I sat on a crate, forearms resting on my knees, while Matteo paced around. Alaric stood by the table, arms crossed and silent as he studied the grainy satellite images of potential Russo hideouts. None of them had Rosa.I exhaled sharply and ran a hand down my face. If we didn’t find something soon, I was going to start ripping through Rio with my bare hands.My phone vibrated against my thigh.I ignored it. Probably another dead-end lead.Then it buzzed again.And again.Frowning, I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.Unknown Number.A chill raced down my spine.I swiped it open and read the message.Rio. Santo Palacio Mansion. Hurry.For a second, my brain didn’t process it. The words blurr
385Rosa’s POVDante looked like he had me all figured out.I watched him from across the lavish dining table, my fingers curling around the silver fork like a weapon. He sat with the ease of a man who thought he had already won. It irritated me.“You’ll see it soon, cara mia,” he murmured, twirling his glass of wine between his fingers. “You belong to me. It’s inevitable.”I tilted my head, feigning curiosity. “And why is that?”His lips curled into a smug smirk. “Because I always get what I want.”I took a slow sip of my water, then I smiled at him, which I never did before.It was a small smile, barely there, but enough to make his smirk deepen.Dante leaned forward, clearly pleased with himself. “Finally coming to terms with it, amore?”I met his gaze, letting my lashes lower just slightly. “I was just thinking…” I ran my fingertip along the rim of my glass. “You’re very confident for someone who hasn’t actually won yet.”His amusement didn’t dim. “Oh, but I have won, Rosa. You’re