Page 89 of The Mafia King's Lost Son
“No. No no no no no.” She rushes to the bed, touching the rumpled sheets like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. “Where is he? Where’s Luca?”
I cross to her and grab her shoulders before she can collapse. “I’ll get him back. I swear to god I’ll get him back.”
“They took him. Someone took our baby.”
“I know. And I’m going to find him.”
My phone buzzes. Unknown number. I answer with murder in my voice.
“You have something I want,” Viktor says calmly. “I have something you want. Let’s make a deal.”
“I’m going to kill you. Slowly. While you beg for death.”
“Probably. But not before you get your son back. Here’s how this works: Scarlett finds the ledger and gives it to me in St. Sebastian’s Cathedral. Alone. No backup. No weapons. Just her and the ledger.”
“Not happening.”
“Then Luca dies. Simple as that. You have seventy-two hours to decide. After that, I start sending you pieces of him.”
Then the line goes dead.
Scarlett is staring at me with tears streaming down her face. “What did he say?”
I can barely force the words out through my rage. “He wants you to get the ledger and bring it to him. In exchange for Luca.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.”
“Scarlett—”
“That’s what I’ll do!” Her voice breaks.
“He has our son, Dante. Our baby. I’ll give Viktor whatever he wants if it means getting Luca back safely.”
I pull her against my chest because if I don’t, I’m going to put my fist through another wall. And I need to stay focused. Need to think clearly about how to get my son back alive.
Marco is already on his phone coordinating the search. My other men are mobilizing to hunt for Viktor. The estate is in full lockdown mode. But none of it feels like enough.
Viktor has my son. And he’s got a seventy-two-hour head start to position himself exactly where he wants to be.
I make a silent promise to Luca, wherever he is.
I’m coming for you. And everyone who touched you is going to die screaming.
Starting with Viktor.
23
SCARLETT
I can’t stop shaking.
My whole body is trembling like I’m freezing even though the room isn’t cold. My hands won’t stay still. My breath keeps coming in short gasps that don’t give me enough air.
Luca is gone.
The reality of it keeps hitting me in waves, each one worse than the last. My baby was stolen from his bed while I slept two floors away. Taken by Viktor who’s been planning this for months. And I didn’t see it coming. Didn’t stop it. Didn’t save him.
This is my fault.
