Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,110

of its murky depths.

Feeling foggy, I open my eyes and blink, and my blurry vision begins to sharpen.

“Welcome back, sleepy head.”

A man steps in front of me, and my mind rewinds back to when he accosted me on the street outside the apartment.

Fractured images of my kidnapping swing before me. How he had pressed a gun into my side and hustled me away from the building. How I had looked at the doorman for help and felt relieved to see the realization slant across his face as I was pushed into the car waiting by the curb.

There’s nothing after that, because once inside the car, this sonofabitch must’ve knocked me out.

I glance around. We’re in some sort of warehouse. It’s dimly lit and there’s a musky stench of mildew in the air.

“Do you know who I am?” he asks.

“A kidnapping asshole?” I manage.

He leans down and scoffs. “You always were too feisty for your own good.” He stands. “My name is Luca Castabella. You will have heard of me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

I know of him.

Of course, I do.

His family killed my brother.

“My family were once aligned with the mighty Lastrantonios. When your father and Vincent Lastrantonio became rivals, it was the Castabellas who stepped in and formed an alliance with Vincent. An alliance forged in honor and respect… both of which have been spat on by this truce. Alessandro had no business offering peace. And your father had no business accepting it.”

“You’ve done this because the Lastrantonios and Isle Cicculas are no longer rivals?”

“Good to see that little bump on your head hasn’t affected you.”

I swallow thickly. Behind my back, I am furiously working on the knots binding my wrists together.

“You stand to gain nothing from doing this,” I say.

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. There is nothing like the sweet taste of revenge.” He smiles evilly. “Kill you, and I destroy both your father and your husband.”

I narrow my eyes, my head hurting like a sonofabitch. “They will find you.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. But by then it will be too late.” He reaches for his belt buckle. “Now, I’m not normally a taking man, Bella, but I want your husband and father to know exactly what I did to you.”

He crouches before me and yanks my knees apart, his hands running up my thighs.

I growl and push them closed but he laughs. He stands and his eyes gleam menacingly as he unzips his pants. “You might want to make your peace with it now, Bella Isle Ciccula, because the next hour is going to be hell for you.”

I look up at him and smile. “You’re in so much trouble.”

“Ah, yes, your husband. What will he do when they pull his beautiful wife’s lifeless body out of the Hudson?” he taunts.

“It’s not him you should be afraid of right now,” I warn.

“No?” He mocks surprise. “Who then?”

My eyes zone in on his. “Me.”

Before he can reply, I’m out of that chair so damn fast he doesn’t have time to react. I get him first in his stomach which bends him over, allowing me to get him in the eyes with my fingers, and his balls with my foot.

He fights back but I’ve done enough Krav Maga that it’s hardwired into my instincts.

When he goes down, his weapon spins across the floor and I grab it before fleeing out the door. I’m woozy and out of sorts, but there’s nothing like a threat to your life to get you moving.

Immediately, I run into some resistance. A bodyguard. But before he can reach for his gun I have mine pressed into his forehead. He steps back and I run… I run so fucking fast my lungs feel like they’re on fire.

I expect more resistance. More bodyguards. More something. But Luca Castabella had clearly underestimated me, taking minimal manpower with him to the warehouse where he’d planned to rape and murder me.

I see a door and make a run for it. Bursting into the late afternoon sunshine, I flee into an alleyway and run toward the street where I wave down a cab and make my escape.

“I am going to break every bone in his body,” Alessandro seethes. “I’m going to pull his tongue from his mouth and make him watch as I feed it to the dogs.”

Beside him, my father’s fists clench tighter on the table.

We’re sitting at the dining table in our apartment. Alessandro. Cristian. Alberto. My father. Me.

After fleeing Luca, I came straight home.

I didn’t call the police.

I called my