Vendetta (Blood for Blood #1)(73)

I blanched. Gino seemed to disengage from the conversation, and his attention started to wander around the darkened room. At a sound from outside, Dom glanced past me through a crack in the curtains. I seized the brothers’ momentary distraction and slid around the wall until I was nearer to the door.

They drifted with me like tracking drones.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” lisped Gino. “I don’t want to hit a girl. Even if it is you.”

“You’re going to have to come with us.” Dom sounded almost apologetic, but it did little to soothe my slow-burning hatred for him. Not only had he broken into my house and was trying to take me somewhere against my will, but he had obviously used Millie and then dumped her, and that made him a total, unredeemable *. I slid into the open doorway, but Gino blocked me in an instant. He shot his arm out, covering the sliver of space.

Dom curled around the other side of me, closing in. He glanced at his brother and gave him a controlled nod. Gino dropped to his hands and knees and slithered across the floor like a reptile, swiping his hand around as he crawled. It was completely, unnecessarily dramatic.

I tried to run, but Dom grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “Don’t.”

Finally, Gino fished out my phone from underneath the armchair and sprang to his feet, dangling it in the air between us. “Gotcha,” he said triumphantly to Dom.

Dom took the phone and held it to his ear. “Jackie boy?” he sneered. The distant sound of shouting filled my ears. “I think it’s time we finished this.”

Laughing to himself, Gino shuffled to my side. “Time for Sophie to say bye-bye.” His smile revealed his two chipped teeth, and his tongue poked out beneath them. I was still straining to hear what Jack was saying when Gino’s hands disappeared from my view.

Dom covered the mouthpiece and redirected to his brother. “Hurry up,” he said.

The damp rag came out of nowhere.





“And where the offense is, let the great axe fall.”

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Hamlet





I could hear buzzing. It made the world vibrate, pulsing inside my eardrums until it felt like the bees were coming from inside my skull. I twitched awake. The sweetest cacophony of smells hung in the air, coaxing me from the darkness that had engulfed me so completely. I opened my eyes to a white ceiling and felt a horrible tightness in my chest.

I groaned.

“Ah, you’re awake, at last. I was wondering how long that would take to wear off.”

I didn’t have to turn my head in the direction of the voice to know who it belonged to. It was unusually soft for a man’s tone, and each syllable was pronounced with overexaggerated precision, betraying his faint Italian accent.

“Felice,” I said. I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. My arms and legs were bound together by cable ties; they cut into my wrists and squeezed the bottom of my bare ankles uncomfortably. “Where am I?”

“Generally? You are in Lake Forest. Specifically? You are reclining on my couch.”

The leather squeaked as I heaved my clasped hands toward my bound legs and pulled them together, crunching into an upright position. I swiveled my body around, dropping my knees over the couch and placing my hands in my lap as a streak of white sunlight slashed across my vision, making my eyelids flutter.

I was almost level with an open bay window across the room. The sun was beginning to dip in the pink-tinged sky — I must have been out for a long time. I could tell I was at least one story up. Outside, there was an old wooden barn tucked behind a sprawling garden with vibrant flowers that faded into open fields. Tens of small wooden sheds dotted the grass in regimented lines.

“Beehives,” I realized aloud. I could just about make out the swarms of bees droning in the distance, and there were at least two more buzzing somewhere inside the room.

“Well noted, Persephone,” said Felice. He was sitting bolt upright in an armchair directly across from me, one impossibly long leg crossed over the other.

I rolled my eyes over him and frowned. Everything about him — from his silver slicked-back hair and his Mediterranean complexion to his expensive pin-striped suit — screamed creepy Mafia dude. And judging by the house so far, not to mention its location, he was rich.

“It’s Sophie,” I replied.

“Apparently it is. If only we had been aware of that sooner, it would have saved us quite the confusion. We would have known you from the outset.”

From what I could see we were the only ones in the room. Aside from the black leather couch on which I sat, there was nothing else but Felice and his bees. They were flying in wide circles around his head as though they were defending him, and I felt my skin prickle uncomfortably at the sight.

“I must say I’m surprised you haven’t screamed yet.” He settled an elbow on each armrest and brought his hands together in the middle so that each finger touched off its correspondent.

“Would there be a point in screaming?”

He shook his head. “We are far removed from civilization. It is just you and the bees, Persephone.”

I felt a vague semblance of fear somewhere deep inside, but my head was still fuzzy from whatever had put me to sleep. It was hard to arrange my emotions appropriately, and even more difficult not to say the wrong thing. I knew I had been kidnapped, but I couldn’t determine the correct response. I zeroed in on the pockmarks along Felice’s neck and face. They were shiny and red, and bubbling angrily in places.