Owned (Dellucci Mafia Duet)

She waves her knife around before exiting the door, leaving me with nothing but the unshakable need to roar.

Harper

We eat with my mother at her table like we’re some kind of ordinary family enjoying time together. I watch Ricardo make a fool out of himself with tricks while Mario and Andrea are having a cute heart-to-heart conversation about the troubles of raising a difficult child. Not something I want to eavesdrop on, but it’s hard not to at a table this size.

Still, no matter how many smiles are at this table, I cannot get myself to actually swallow a single bite.

Marcello is still out there, in Molly and Frank’s clutches, and I’m over here pretending everything is fine.

But it’s not. I can’t sit still and eat and sleep when he is being tortured or even worse.

So I put down my fork and look at Andrea’s cell phone.

“What are you doing, dear?” Andrea asks when she notices, and everybody stops eating.

“Looking at some texts,” I say, sighing out loud when it’s too hard to find.

“Harper,” Ricardo mumbles, staring at me like he wants to punish me for simply thinking about it.

“What?” I say.

He only raises a brow.

“What?!” I reiterate. “I’m just worried about Marcello.”

“I know. We all are,” he says. “You should eat. Can’t save him on an empty stomach.”

“But he doesn’t have any food either. Or a place to sleep,” I say. “In fact, Molly is probably out there punishing him for what happened to Frank.”

Mario, who was in a conversation with Andrea, averts his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mario. But you know I may be right about this,” I say.

“I realize that.” He looks directly at me. “But my son chose that to save you and your unborn child.”

“And that means we should just leave him there?” My nostrils flare. “No.”

Mario puts down his fork and knife too now, staring at me intently. “Believe me, I have zero intentions of leaving Marcello in that woman’s clutches.” He clears his throat and gets up while looking at Andrea. “Thank you for this lovely meal, madam.”

He grabs her hand and gives it a kiss, which brings a bright red blush to Andrea’s face. Even though I’m preoccupied right now, it still makes my heart warm.

Then he focuses his attention on me. “Harper, let’s go to another room, shall we?”

I nod, and Ricardo gets up too. “Thank you, ma’am. It was lovely.”

“You’re welcome,” Andrea responds with a hearty smile on her face.

We walk out of the room together, where Mario closes the door behind us after another brief smile at Andrea.

“Spill,” Ricardo tells me.

I fish my phone from my pocket and show the text I received before dinner. “I got this from Melanie. One of the girls who was brought to the auction with me. I met her again when I was living on the streets after running from Marcello, and she gave me her number, so I texted her. She hates it there and has been keeping an eye on the Polish ever since they took her. Apparently, the Russians now work with the Irish since their whole leadership caved. Not to mention the Polish. It’s all connected.”

I show them the text. “She thinks she knows where Marcello is. The Polish are the ones keeping him in a separate building, away from the Irish.”

“To throw us off, no doubt,” Mario responds. “What’s the address?”

I take my phone back and open the Maps app, pinpointing the location. “I’ve been looking at it for some time now, trying to find a point of entry because it seems sealed shut. Like it hasn’t been used in ages.”

“That’s their usual MO. Abandoned buildings are perfect hideouts,” Ricardo says.

“And you’re sure this Melanie friend is telling the truth?” Mario asks, raising a brow. “I do not want to insult anyone here, but if she belongs to the Polish, then it could be a trap.”

“She doesn’t belong to them,” I reply. “She was bought by the don. And if there’s anything I know, it’s that women don’t like to be bought and owned. Of course she hates him.”

“And a woman who hates will do anything to make sure the people they hate get what they deserve,” Ricardo says.

I wink. “Exactly.” I point at the map. “It’s not too far from the Irish hideout. I just don’t know how to get inside.”

“There will be tons of guards,” Ricardo says. “And we don’t have many men to spare.” He clears his throat. “I’ll need to check on the men we still have. See if who survived the ambush at the mansion. Check if it’s safe again.”

“Right,” I respond as he walks off with his cell phone in his hands.

“Don’t worry, most of them scatter when things get too hot,” Mario says.

“I know,” I reply. “I’m just worried that even if we can gather some men to raid the Polish hideout, it still won’t be enough.”