Chapter 71: To Ashes

Marco’s POV

"The shipments have arrived, Don," James reported.

I had spent the last few days planning how to handle these goods.

"Are the men there?" I asked, holding the half-smoked cigar between my fingers.

"Yes. I explained what they need to do."

"Good."

Hiding extra weapons among the ones Edoardo usually ordered and having them delivered separately from the Moretti training ground was not an easy task. There was always a risk of something going wrong. A rat could be watching my movements, or Edoardo could have assigned one of his men to tail me without my knowledge. Either way, one mistake could expose everything I had been working on.

"You can leave now. Ensure everything is handled without a single mistake."

"Yes, Don."

James left the office, and silence settled around me.

My thoughts drifted to the past six months I had spent building a network and fueling operations underground, all because of a man who was supposed to be my father. A man who had forced me to spend the last two years of my life on the run. A man because of whom my mama had died.

I closed my eyes, trying to drown out those thoughts before they consumed me. They faded, only for the image of someone else to take their place. Someone I knew would be the death of me.

I pictured Fabio seated on a sofa, his legs crossed, wearing nothing but a pair of pants. A cigar rested at the corner of his lips as smoke escaped from the other side of his mouth. He was surely smiling, but his eyes told a different story. There was danger in them, a warning telling me to run and put an end to whatever this was between us. Yet, once again, I had found myself weakening under that gaze.

Without realizing it, I raised my hand to my own throat, touching the place where his marks had been only a few days ago. I could still feel his hands around my neck, remember the way he seemed obsessed with choking me and the sound of his breathing whenever he did it. He looked as though it gave him the greatest satisfaction imaginable, almost like the pleasure of coming.

I tightened my fingers around my own neck, trying to imitate his actions. A gasp escaped me before I could stop it, and the sensation sent heat rushing through my body.

I let his voice echo inside my head, imagining what he would say if he were here right now.

"You like it when I’m rough with you."

Or perhaps, "You belong to me."

And most importantly, "I’ll kill whoever touches you."

Every word reeked of insanity, yet I found myself smiling. Because those were the exact things I felt, needed, and wanted from him. I wanted that madness, that possessiveness, that dangerous certainty that he would destroy anyone who dared to come between us. Because I would do the same without a thought.

A few days ago, he had claimed me. He had said I signed myself over to him the moment I took his ring. Such a crazy man. But he was mine, too, and that only made me crazier.

I was so deeply immersed in the ecstasy of Fabio’s web that I barely registered the knock on my office door.

"Babe, are you busy?"

Yes, very busy, in fact.

"Come in," I replied, forcing myself back into a normal composure.

Luca walked in wearing nothing but shorts and a crop top. Ever since our dinner that day, he seemed to have changed his clothing style, constantly wearing these provocative pieces. They might have caught anyone else’s attention, but not mine. I was already trapped in another man’s cage, and that man was Fabio. There was no escape. I barely found any interest in anyone. That was how gone I was.

"Sorry to disturb you," Luca said, stopping in front of my desk. "I wanted to tell you that my father came back today. The meeting in France ended earlier than expected, and he said he could meet you tomorrow, if that’s fine."

That caught my full attention as usual.

"Of course. I’ll meet him."

Things were progressing smoothly. Soon enough, I would be able to take my brother out of this place. Out of this prison.

Elia was the only leverage Edoardo had against me. He knew I would burn everything to the ground for my brother, and that was precisely why he kept him confined, allowing me to see him only once a week. For a man who was also Elia’s biological father, Edoardo was nothing less than cruel. Evil, even.

But not for much longer.

"I’ll go back to my room now," Luca said, his voice quieter than before.

I nodded. "Thank you for your help."

Once he left, I leaned back in my chair and began considering my next move. Getting the Prime Minister on my side would give me the advantage I needed, but I still had to determine how best to use that advantage against Edoardo. I could not afford to rush things now, not when I was so close to getting Elia out of his hands.

Before I could settle on a plan, my phone chimed with a notification.

I glanced down at the screen. A message from Edoardo. Talk of the devil.

"I’ll be away for a few days. Make sure to look after Luca. Don’t think I’m unaware that you’re messing around with someone else. Just do it discreetly, and don’t displease Luca. Don’t try anything just because I’m not there. You know what will happen."

What a casual threat from a man who called himself my father.

He had not mentioned Elia directly, but he did not need to. The warning was clear enough. If I stepped out of line, my brother would pay the price. Edoardo knew exactly where to hurt me, and he had never hesitated to use that knowledge against me.

I did not reply.

Instead, I placed my phone on the desk and leaned back in my chair once again. His warning changed nothing. I had spent too long planning, sacrificing, and building the connections necessary to bring him down to let a message intimidate me into submission.

I would get Elia out. I would take away the one thing Edoardo believed gave him control over me, and then I would make him regret every single day of his life, until he could not take it anymore. And just when he thinks it’s over, I’ll restart again, till he is driven to literal madness.

No matter what it cost me, I would see this through.

I would burn everything to ashes until Edoardo had nowhere left to run.