GILDED CAGES AND BLOODY HANDS

“We have to move. Now,” Alessandro commanded, stepping over the groaning man and grabbing my arm.

I yanked my arm back. “Don’t touch me. You don’t get to give orders here.”

“Adriana, the Marinos have mobilized their entire enforcer wing. This building will be ash in ten minutes.” His eyes fell to the workbench, seeing the dismantled ring and the tiny memory card. A flash of understanding crossed his face. “You found it.”

“Maso brought it to me,” I said coldly. “Along with the news that you used our marriage as a pawn in your mob war.”

“I used it to get you out of the crossfire!” Alessandro roared, the sudden volume shocking all of us. The impenetrable, cold Mafia boss was fracturing. “There is a mole in my inner circle. The Marinos knew every move I made. The only way to ensure they didn’t use you against me was to make them believe you meant absolutely nothing to me. If I broke your heart, they wouldn't see you as leverage.”

“So you broke me to save me?” I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “How incredibly noble and utterly pathetic.”

“We can debate my husbandly failures later,” he snapped, though the guilt in his eyes was unmistakable. He drew his own weapon. “Maso, take Leah down the fire escape. Get to the secondary clinic. Adriana is coming with me.”

“Like hell I am,” I said.

“You have the card,” he said, stepping into my space, his chest brushing mine. He smelled of cordite, blood, and expensive cologne. “Which means Victor Marino wants you dead just as much as he wants me. You know the smuggling tunnels beneath this district better than anyone. Your father built them. Guide us out, or we all die in this room.”

He was right, and I hated it. I grabbed a leather pouch, swept the memory card and the diamond inside, and shoved it into my bra. “Follow me. And Alessandro?”