The Italian

He’s got her already.

My heart hammers hard inside my chest as I creep down the stairs.

I hold the gun up to my chest, and I slink around the corner. The room is dark. I can

’t see anything.

What the fuck is going on?

I walk out into the kitchen where the light is on and a glass of water sits on the bench.

She’s been interrupted.

I carefully go to the kitchen drawer and take out the sharpest carving knife I can find. I eye it, watching as the blade glistens in the moonlight.

Adrenaline surges through me, and I look around. “Olivia?” I call. “Where are you, baby?”

Silence…

I continue to creep into the living room.

“Olivia!” I call.

Where the fuck are they?

I clutch my gun with white-knuckle force. I move around another corner, and that’s when I see them in the dark.

My eyes can’t focus properly, so I flick the light on.

Olivia’s scared eyes hold mine. A gun is wedged against her neck. Lombardi is holding it tightly in his grip.

I raise my gun and point it at his head. “Leave her out of this,” I growl. “Your gripe is with me.”

Lombardi gives me a slow, sarcastic smile. “It is.” He jams the gun hard into Olivia’s neck, and she cries out.

“Let her go!” I demand, clutching the gun.

“I don’t think so.” He sneers. It makes me take a step forward. “You’re in my way.” He pulls Olivia’s hair and she screams out in pain. It only makes him smile darkly. “I need you gone, Enrico.”

I readjust the grip on my gun. “Let her go.” I snarl. “Mark my words. You will die tonight, fucker.”

“You’re the one who’s going to die.”

Olivia’s eyes widen as she looks at something to the side of us.

I glance over and see Jennifer and Diego standing behind the wall in the kitchen.

They have their guns drawn. Jennifer points to outside and holds up three fingers.

There are three more of them outside.

Fuck.

I take a step forward, and I take off the safety as I take aim. “What kind of coward kills a woman?”

Lombardi lets out a low, evil laugh. “One that’s bringing a Ferrara out of hiding. It’s called bait, pretty boy.”

“Sophia?” I sneer. “Why did you have to kill her? She had nothing to do with me.”