I've always known what my husband is capable of. Sometimes, it's easy to forget — when he's helping Winter with her reading or laughing at her attempts to braid his tie. But in that moment, I welcomed the murderous intent he was giving off.
I sat in the rolling chair, watching as the hacker frantically moved from computer to computer, trying to locate my baby after that bastard took her without a clear, conscious thought. It wasn't long before the words I had been waiting for were spoken:
"They're at the old family estate in Tuscany. The one your father left to Salvatore."
Of course. The house where they grew up. Salvatore was trying to make a point about returning to their roots — well, I'd gladly help him return to his roots.
"How many men?" Davian asked as I got up, pulling out my old gear to join him.
Minimal security. They're not expecting us — they think they're teaching a lesson, not fighting a war."
As I headed to the door, I threw over my shoulder, "They thought wrong."
"Adeline—" Davian started, but I cut him off.
"Don't you dare tell me to stay behind, like some prissy housewife. She's my daughter, too." It came out harsher than I intended, but I wasn't about to sit around and wait.
He studied me for a moment before nodding. "Get the jet ready," he ordered. "We leave in twenty."
Walking into the gear room, I grabbed my old clothes — they still fit like a glove — and my infamous knives, the ones that used to be my babies before my real babies came along. As I headed out, I was stopped by Davian, who grabbed my arm.
"Look, I know you're upset and you want Winter back, but I think iyou should sit this one out," he said, looking into my eyes with sincerity. But sincerity was the last thing I wanted to hear.
Pulling him down, I placed a tender kiss on his lips before muttering, "When that bitch is dead, then I'll stand down." Without another word, I pulled away and headed to the car waiting to take us to the private jet.
The flight to Italy was tense. I sat quietly, skillfully sharpening my knives, while Davian checked his gun, the metal gleaming under the cabin lights.
"What are you going to do to them?" I asked quietly.
His eyes met mine, dark with promise. "Whatever is necessary. It's been a while since you last used the sisters?" he asked, referring to my knives.
"Yeah. I promised myself I wouldn't use them again, but... that was a promise I had to break." I gave a half-grin, and he smirked back knowingly.
