Beneath her, the low purr of an engine vibrated.
“Are you okay?” he asked, drawing his hand away from her face now.
She instantly missed the warmth, despite the alarm that was flooding her veins.
“What are you doing?” She dragged herself out of her slump in the soft leather seat. On the other side of the passenger window, the nighttime landscape was a blur. Jesus, Ettore was driving like a bat out of hell. She swung an anxious look behind them. “Where’s Massioni?”
“Don’t worry about him. He was mine to deal with. And I did.”
Fresh horror swamped her. “You killed him?”
Ettore looked at her, his expression grim. “I hope so, but there wasn’t time to verify that.”
Oh, God. No. “Where are we going?”
A frown creased his brow. “I’m taking you to Rome, Bella. You’ll be safest at the Order’s command center there. My comrades and I will make sure of that.”
The Order. As shocked as she was to realize the golden, charming young man she had known all those years ago now made his living dealing in violence and death as a member of that lethal organization, she also knew that no one—not even the Order—could protect her from the worst of Vito Massioni’s threats.
For all she knew, it was already too late.
“Let me out of here, Ettore. Let me out right now.”
“What do you mean, let you out?” He gaped at her as if she had lost her mind. “Sweetheart, we’re going a hundred and twenty miles an hour.”
“I have to go back. Please, Ettore!”
Overcome with worry, she fumbled with her seatbelt, unfastening it and tearing it away from her body. She had to get out of the car and go back to beg Massioni’s forgiveness.
If he was still alive.
Dear God, don’t let him be dead.
Don’t let her family be killed because of her failure to protect them.
A sob raked her throat. “Goddammit, I said stop this fucking car!”
He slowed the growling sports car and eased off the empty highway to the shoulder. As soon as the vehicle stopped, she leaped out. She paused only long enough to toss her high heels into the grass, then started running the opposite way on the rough gravel that edged the pavement.
Ettore’s curse exploded behind her. “What the hell are you doing?”
He caught up to her instantly, gifted with Breed genetics that made him faster than any other creature on the planet. He blocked her path, his big male body filling her vision and all of her senses. When she tried to dodge him, his hands came down firmly on her shoulders, holding her still.
“Talk to me, Arabella. Tell me what this is about.”
“My family.” She couldn’t contain the shiver that rocked her when she thought about what they might be enduring because of her, possibly at this very moment. “Massioni promised me that if anything ever happened to him, he’d have them killed.”
Ettore’s scowl deepened. “Your father might have something to say about that. Your brother, Consalvo, too.”
She gazed up at him, shaking her head in misery. “My father’s dead. So is Sal. I guess you didn’t know. How would you, right? You left and never looked back.”
He flinched as if her words stung as much as a slap. Yet when he spoke, there was only quiet, patient concern in his deep voice. “What happened?”
“It was Sal,” she said, still wounded by her brother’s fall from grace—and the betrayal that followed. “Three years ago, my father made the mistake of turning over the vineyard to Sal. Things didn’t go very well. He was careless with the books. Worse than careless. None of us realized how deeply in debt the business was—or why—until Sal’s mate, Chiara, confided in me about his gambling. She was worried for him, and for the future of their infant son. But it was already too late. Sal got mixed up with bad people, the worst of them being Vito Massioni.”
Ettore blew out a sharp curse. “The idiot. Sallie owed him money?”
“A lot of money. More than any of us could pay. By the time we learned what he’d done, Massioni was out of patience. He tortured Sal, nearly killed him.” Bella took a fortifying breath. “My brother was scared and desperate, in fear for his life. He couldn’t have been thinking clearly… At least, that’s what I’ve had to tell myself in order to forgive him for what he did to me.”
She watched Ettore’s eyes darken with grave understanding. “Your brother is the reason you’re with Massioni?”
She nodded. “Vito showed up at our Darkhaven one night, along with a dozen armed men. He wasn’t there to negotiate. The men shot my father in front of all of us. Sal was going to be next. He made all kinds of promises, offered to give Massioni the house, the vineyard—everything he could think of. None of it appealed to Vito, of course. He had plenty of property, plenty of money. Then Sal looked at me.”