Theirs to Protect (Mafia Menage Trilogy 3)

“Thank you,” I said, struggling to focus on the conversation and general social niceties when all I wanted was to throw my full energy into finding my family. But Elio was the key to locating them, and any display of rudeness could get all of us killed. “If Marco was planning on meeting with you, and now he’s missing, I’m assuming Ciro has something to do with it. Marco did want to discuss Ciro with you, right?” There was no other reason for Marco to reach out to the head of the Amato crime family, but I needed to understand the situation better. As far as I’d known, we were on vacation. Our romantic getaway had suddenly become my worst nightmare.

“That’s right,” Elio confirmed. “He contacted one of my associates in Naples and asked to meet. After I got the message, I looked into De Luca. I know all about your relationship, how you were exiled from New York, and how Ciro has been targeting you. I agreed to meet with Marco to hear what he wanted to do about it.” His eyes flashed. “Ciro threatened my son. He was lucky I let him live after that. If he’s come back to interfere in my affairs here, if he has anything to do with your family going missing, he will pay with his life. I warned him never to return. He’s caused enough problems with our business as it is.”

Before I could press for more information about exactly how Marco had contacted him, Max returned.

“They let me look at some security footage from when De Luca left,” he explained. “Domenico and his goons were escorting De Luca and Miss Meyers out to their car.”

“Pietro,” Elio growled, and Max nodded. “They’ll be at his estate outside Furore. Come on,” he said to me. “We can drive there in less than an hour.”

I hastened to follow them outside, eager to get going. “Who is Pietro?” I needed to know what we were up against.

“He’s one of Ciro’s oldest friends, and a man I mistakenly trusted.” Elio sneered. “He must’ve heard about my plans to meet with Marco and decided to save my brother’s skin. Domenico, the man Max saw on the security footage, works for Pietro. He has an estate close by. That’s where they’ll be holding your family.”

“And Ciro?” I asked.

Elio’s expression solidified to ice. “If my brother has returned to Italy, he won’t live to see the sunset.”

I got into the backseat of a black SUV with Max, and Elio rode up front with the driver. His other guards got into a matching car behind us. Glancing out the window, I noted a third SUV. Elio had brought backup. Good. It sounded like we would need it.

The drive to Pietro’s estate seemed to take forever and no time at all. My fear for my family was a living thing in my chest by the time we arrived, a caged tiger clawing for release. Max pressed a gun into my hands, and I took it automatically. I knew how to use it, even if I had hoped to never hold a gun again.

I firmed my grip. If I had to kill to protect my family, I would do it.

Elio’s small army of men moved in first, sweeping through the strange, rough-hewn mansion to clear the way for their boss. Max signaled that I should stick with them. Even though I was desperate to run into the firefight and get to the people I loved, the rational part of my brain knew that it was best to let Elio and Max call the shots. They knew this terrain, these people. One misstep from me could get Marco or Ashlyn killed.

After several minutes, the gunfire died down. A tall, dark haired man stepped out of the mansion and signaled to Elio. Max nodded at me, inviting me to join them.

The mansion was eerily silent as we moved across terraces and through pristine gardens set into the edge of the cliff. Eventually, we turned into a long tunnel cut directly into the rock. We stormed into a garish, painfully bright room. I squinted against the riot of clashing colors, my eyes immediately finding the people I loved. Marco slumped in a rigid wooden chair, blood dripping from his lips as they formed Ashlyn’s name. He strained toward where she lay on a red leather couch, pale and utterly still.

My heart dropped to the floor, and only Max’s arm around my chest stopped me from racing toward my family. Elio advanced into the room, with a gun trained on Ciro’s heart. A man ducked around the open terrace door, his bald head momentarily silhouetted against the cerulean sea view. He fired two blind shots in our direction before Max’s bullet smashed into his brain.

I strained to get to my family, but Max held firm. “Not yet,” he growled. “They’re okay. Let my father finish this.”