Chapter 4
Noemi felt Alessio’s grip on her wrist turn to ice.
“What the fuck did you just say?” His voice was pure venom.
Daniela wailed, mascara streaming. “I just wanted enough for that Boarini Milanesi Parva bag! But now your father’s sending his
men after me!”
A vein pulsed in Alessio’s temple. “I give you unlimited access to my accounts, and you’re still running side operations?”
“I’m carrying the Moretti heir!” Daniela shrieked. “They can’t touch me! I’m untouchable!”
The courtyard gate burst open.
Three men in dark suits entered, each wearing the family’s serpent ring. The Lupara Bianca-the White Shotgun squad. When the family needed someone to disappear permanently, these were the men who made it happen.
“Daniela Rossi,” the leader said quietly, “Don Moretti wants to discuss your immigration enterprise.”
The air turned electric.
After a long pause, Alessio spoke: “You’ve got the wrong person.”
All eyes turned to him.
“The trafficking operation belongs to Noemi Bianchi.”
The words hit like bullets. “Excuse me?” Noemi’s voice cracked. “Want to repeat that?”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You heard me. It’s Noemi’s operation.”
“The heir has spoken,” the lead enforcer said, grabbing her arm. “Let’s go.”
As they dragged her away, Noemi stared at Alessio. He stood protectively in front of Daniela-no longer the man who’d once taken bullets for her.
In the interrogation room, her denials meant nothing.
“Marco Moretti himself identified you,” the enforcer sneered. “Why would the heir lie about his own sister-in-law?”
Three days without food or water, then they shipped her to the family’s toxic waste facility-where problems went to disappear.
The warehouse reeked of chemicals. She hauled barrels of industrial waste, her designer shoes melting from the spills.
An explosion rocked the building.
“Rival hit!” someone screamed. “It’s the Medicis!”
Burning debris trapped her legs. Through the smoke, she heard Alessio’s voice.
“Noemi! Where are you?”
Was she hallucinating? He appeared through the flames, tearing at the wreckage until his hands bled.
12.11
“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”
He pulled her free, cradling her against his chest. “Daniela’s pregnant with Marco’s child. I couldn’t let them take her. But this is killing me. Every second without you is torture. Once the baby’s born, we’ll be together again. Please don’t die on me. I can’t breathe
without you…”
Even through her pain, she wanted to laugh. Same old Alessio-destroy her, then beg forgiveness.
His tears fell on her face as darkness claimed her.
She woke in a private hospital room. Alessio dozed in the chair beside her, five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw.
When she stirred, he jerked awake. “Noemi!”
He lunged forward, crushing her against him, pressing desperate kisses to her hair. “Thank God you’re awake. Thank God-”
“Marco.” Her voice cut like a blade. “What the hell are you doing?”
