His Stolen Princess - MINK Page 0,25

the sleep from their eyes.

“Guard this door with your lives. No one in or out. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” They station themselves outside the door as I continue down the hall.

Pausing at Carter’s door, I open it and peek at him. Like an angel, he sleeps with his hands clasped beneath his cheek. And the devil sleeps on his shoulder, her whiskers twitching as she blinks open her feline eyes and stares at me.

I close the door and continue down the hall, my steps becoming heavier as I descend the stairs. By the time I reach the bottom, each footfall is heavier than lead. Moving deeper into the house, I pass soldiers at every door. They puff out their chests but give me plenty of leeway as I pass.

The night greets me with a cool wind as I pass through the garden at the rear of the villa and enter the old barn. Its stone walls were laid back in Roman times, and it will stand long after I’m gone.

Santino’s inside, his shirt off and his face sweaty. His fists are torn, but he doesn’t bother to tape them. He just swings again, nailing the vineyard guard with a hard right. A messy stack of cash is thrown in one corner, the bills blood-splattered.

Santino’s fist connects with a fleshy thunk. The soldier yowls and goes limp.

I grab a knife from the metal table along the wall and press it to his groin.

His eyes open.

“I knew you were awake. You won’t escape this punishment.”

“Pussy.” Santino thumbs his nose and swings again.

I back away as the soldier’s head snaps to the side, a split appearing on his cheek.

“Did you ask him any questions?” I roll up my shirtsleeves slowly, methodically.

“No.” Santino shrugs and backs away from the bound man.

A bare bulb overhead gives enough light to see the damage Santino’s already inflicted. I take up the knife again, wondering how much more I need to take from this man before he spills the truth.

“You were guarding the vineyard’s southern perimeter?” I use the flat of the blade to lift his face to mine.

“Yes.”

“Did you see the intruder?”

“No.”

“Why lie to me, Raoul?”

“Not lying.” Blood oozes from his broken nose.

I backhand him. “Try again. I’ll do this for as long as necessary. You know what I say is true.”

“Yes.” He half cries on a gasp. “I know, sir.”

“Then why not speak the truth?”

He shoots a look at Santino, who leans against the stone wall and smokes a cigarette.

“Look at me, Raoul. Just me.” I pull the blade back. “Did you see the intruder?”

He starts to shake and tries to look away.

I grab his hair so he has to look at me. “I asked you a question.” My voice remains calm, gentle almost. It’s the knife in my hand that will do the damage.

“Y-yes.” His chin trembles.

“Did you let him in?”

He shakes harder and doesn’t answer.

I let him go and sigh, then bury the blade in his thigh. Then I slap my hand over his mouth, stifling his scream. Wouldn’t want to wake my lioness or her cub upstairs.

When he’s back to blubbering, I pull my hand away. “Raoul. As you know, I’m not a patient man. My patience is even thinner now that someone has tried to harm Apollonia Simonetti, Carter’s sister. You see, she is an innocent, much like her nephew. And though I’ve done terrible things, many of them with glee, I do not harm innocents. Now, if you refuse to tell me the truth, I will do those terrible things to you.” With a yank, I remove the blade and slap my hand over his yowling mouth again.

Santino blows out a big puff of smoke. “Weak.”

I pull my hand away and keep my knife in front of Raoul, his blood dripping from the blade. “Tell me the truth. You allowed the intruder to enter my land. Who sent him?”

“He didn’t say,” he blubbers.

Santino and I exchange a look. My suspicions have been growing by the day with each report I hear about the newcomer, the man who seeks to take all I’ve bled for. Perhaps he’s not as new as he seems, but I need to verify my intuition before I can move against my enemy.

“The assassin came for me?”

He glances at the house as if he can see it through the stone. My icy blood heats to a steady blaze. He’s looking at my Simonettis, my lioness and her cub.

“Apollonia? Carter? Who?” I yank his head back and press the blade to