Dante
The drive to the Caruso estate blurred into a tunnel of lights and fury. I barely saw the road, barely felt the wheel under my hands. All I could hear was Adriano’s voice.
She’s gone. Taken. With Rafé.
By the time the gates loomed, I was ready to rip them off their hinges. Guards scrambled to open them fast enough, fear etched on their faces.
I slammed the car door, my men filing behind me. Engines still rumbled in the courtyard, headlights cutting harsh beams through smoke. Blood streaked the stones. Shouts filled the air.
“Where’s Caruso?” I barked.
A guard pointed toward the south wing.
I stormed inside, boots echoing against marble. The halls smelled of gunpowder and iron. Men rushed past, radios squawking, orders shouted. And there—Adriano, hunched over a table cro
