Chapter 5
They made it to Potenza in just under two hours, thanks to clear late-night roadways and the seven hundred horses at work inside the Pagani’s massive engine.
Savage turned onto a narrow two-lane and headed for the Genova family vineyard even before Bella pointed to give him directions. He had been born in the same southern province of Italy, and, like her, he had spent the better part of his youth traipsing around the volcanic soil foothills of the region’s imposing Mount Vulture.
Unlike Bella, however, he had no family of his own. Whoever his parents were, they’d been gone from his life soon after he was born. Abandoned when he was just a baby, he’d been raised in one Darkhaven orphanage after another until he was old enough to take care of himself.
He thought he’d found something close to family when he met Bella’s brother, Consalvo, at university and the two became fast friends. He had regarded Sal like a brother, helped work the vineyard with the family as if it was his own.
For a long time, he had actually believed he’d found someplace to belong.
He had belonged…until his desire for Arabella had been found out and he’d been informed by her father that he was no longer welcome there.
Not good enough for his daughter.
Bella deserved something better.
Hell, Savage wouldn’t argue that, even now.
But as he glanced over at her and watched her lovely face turn ashen with dread on their approach to the long gravel drive that led to the homestead at the base of the mountain, he felt a wave of possessiveness—and protectiveness—he could not deny.
And he felt guilt too.
For leaving her the way he had, for letting her think he didn’t care.
For not being present to ensure that she never knew a moment of pain or heartache or fear.
All the things he could see playing across her features now.
Because of him.
She sucked in a sharp breath when she spotted the ominous-looking, empty black sedan parked halfway up the drive to the rambling villa. “Oh, no. Ettore, we’re too late.”
He clamped his molars tight, holding back the curse that leaped to his tongue. She was right. It didn’t look good.
A plan formed in his head—a risky one, but the best option he had.
He didn’t dare ditch the car with Bella inside it, and damned if he was going to let her out of his sight for as much as a second.
“Slide down as far as you can,” he told her. “Don’t move, Bella. Not unless I tell you to.”
She shot him an anxious glance but did as he instructed.
He swept off his black knit skullcap and tossed it aside. Instead of keeping his cautious pace up the meandering drive, Savage gunned the engine, letting the tires chew up the dirt and dust as he roared all the way to the homestead.
e blew out a sharp curse. “The idiot. Sallie owed him money?”
“A lot of money. More than any of us could pay. By the time we learned what he’d done, Massioni was out of patience. He tortured Sal, nearly killed him.” Bella took a fortifying breath. “My brother was scared and desperate, in fear for his life. He couldn’t have been thinking clearly… At least, that’s what I’ve had to tell myself in order to forgive him for what he did to me.”
She watched Ettore’s eyes darken with grave understanding. “Your brother is the reason you’re with Massioni?”
She nodded. “Vito showed up at our Darkhaven one night, along with a dozen armed men. He wasn’t there to negotiate. The men shot my father in front of all of us. Sal was going to be next. He made all kinds of promises, offered to give Massioni the house, the vineyard—everything he could think of. None of it appealed to Vito, of course. He had plenty of property, plenty of money. Then Sal looked at me.”