Page 6 of Broken Crown

Not a question.

"I protected her."

"You used her against a man who's been playing this game since before you were born." He paused. "And now she's running for her life because you thought you were smarter than everyone else in the room. I fucking warned you.”

My hands tightened on the wheel until the leather creaked. "Are you finished?"

"Are you?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't. Because he wasn't wrong, and we both knew it.

Marzio didn’t acknowledge Sabrina publicly as his daughter after he learned about her at the opera pre-party. But he now considered her a liability, a loose end and, escalating the danger to her, a threat to his career, his ambitions, his legacy.

And I was the one who had made her that threat.

We abandoned the car at the edge of a piazza, continuing on foot. The scent of espresso and cigarettes drifted from cafes around us.

"There!" Rafaello pointed toward a side street where two of Vittorio's men were shoving through a group of tourists, their black clothing and purposeful movements marking them as predators among the prey.

I sprinted after them, leaving Rafaello to coordinate our men.

Buildings pressed in on either side as I pushed through. The men disappeared down a narrow alley, and I followed, weapon raised.

I emerged into a small piazza with a fountain, scanning frantically for any sign of her.

Nothing.

I cursed, running a hand through my hair.

Come on, babygirl. Where are you?

Then…I heard it.

A muffled cry. A struggle from a recessed doorway to my right.

I moved silently.

As I rounded the corner, Vittorio was there, his balding head gleaming with sweat as he cornered Sabrina against the wall. He reached for her, his intentions clear in the sick smile on his face.

I didn't hesitate.

I crossed the distance in three strides, grabbed Vittorio by the collar, and slammed him against the rough cement wall so hard his head cracked audibly.

Before he could react, I fired—once, twice, three times—point-blank into his chest.

Overkill, but I didn't give a damn.

Vittorio slumped to the ground.

The silenced shots had barely made a sound above the distant hum of the city.

I turned to Sabrina, my heart pounding.

She was alive.

Bloodied and terrified…but alive.

Her dress was torn, her bare feet scraped and bleeding from running across jagged stone streets.