“Where is she?” I stepped forward. My deadly intent was obvious, and his bodyguards moved toward me. It took all but a split second for Lucio and Antonio to flank me, weapons in hand.
Stefano grinned. “Come, now, gentlemen. There’s no need for violence. Just give me my cargo, and we can go our separate ways.”
“Not before you give me Layla.”
He frowned. “Do not test me, boy. Lorenzo,” he spoke to my father but didn’t take his eyes off me, “I would advise you to tell your son to back off, and to leave the business side of things to us.”
“Layla is not business!” I snapped. “She is not business. She is fucking personal.”
Stefano studied me, his eyes raking over my face, nostrils flaring. I was pissing him off.Good.
I cocked my head. “Give me Layla, and you can have your precious cargo.”
“Oh, come now, Dante. You and I both know you’re not planning on giving me my cargo.”
Smart motherfucker.
The sound of a car grabbed our attention, and I bit down on my cheeks as I watched it approach us. Even though my attention was on the car, I was hyperaware of every man currently taking part in this standoff.
Stefano righted himself and straightening the sleeves of his jacket. “It seems you’re having difficulty accepting that Layla has moved on with my son. Maybe he can convince you.”
The car stopped, and my heart beat wildly inside my chest as I watched Matteo get out. If hate had a moment in time, this would be it. The sight of his ugly motherfucking face made me want to rip out his goddamn spine through his throat. It took every shred of self-control not to end him right there and then.
My hand itched, the weight of my gun at my back making me aware of how much I wanted to put a bullet in his skull. And the smug grin he had on his face as he got out of the car made the urge to kill him even stronger.
Matteo inhaled deeply. “Ah. There’s nothing like the fresh smell of the ocean.” Theatrical bastard. “Wouldn’t you agree, my love?”
My spine tingled with warning and I snarled like a fucking animal as I watched him hold out his hand and help Layla out of the car.
The second my gaze met hers, I sucked in a breath. “Layla.”
She bit her lower lip, her eyes weak and tired, dark circles painted at the tops of her cheekbones. It was only when she looked down to the ground, turning away from me, that I saw the black bruise on the side of her face.
I erupted. Without thinking, I reached for my gun, my legs launching me forward. But a hand grabbed me, pulling me back. “Dante, don’t.”
My glare cut to Matteo while struggling against my brother. “What the fuck did you do to her?”
He feigned a look of confusion. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I swear to God, Mancuso, I will gut you from nose to navel.”
“Oh,” he turned Layla’s face toward him, “are you talking about this little mark?” He pulled a pouch from his pocket. “She got a little greedy trying to snap this away from me with her clumsy little ass. Tripped and fell over her own damn feet.”
“Is that the drugs? The heroin you’re blackmailing her with to get her to stay with you?”
“Oh, please, Dante. Layla is with me because she wants to be.” He placed his arm around her body, and her shoulders slumped forward. “Tell him, babe.”
I jerked free from Antonio’s hold, never taking my eyes off her. There was so much pain written all over her face, and it sliced straight through my soul.
“Tell him,” Matteo snapped, startling her. Her eyes pinched closed, tears slipping down her face. I could see her shudder all the way from where I was standing as she wrapped her arms around her chest.
“Stop this, Mancuso. Leave her the fuck alone.”
Matteo pulled her harder against him. “Tell him!”
“I’m with him.” Her voice broke, her body shivering uncontrollably. “I’m with Matteo.”
“Why?” Matteo dragged out the word as if he was talking to a child.