Salvatore(57)

I shook that thought aside. I needed to figure out what was going on. I needed to talk to Izzy, but how? How could I tell her I’d heard a man’s voice without giving myself away? How offended would she be if I asked if Dominic Benedetti were at her house?

But what if it was him? What if she’d known him for far longer than I realized?

And what if she knew about what he’d done to that little boy, kidnapping Natalie’s son like that?

“I took care of what you wanted done.”

No. No way. Izzy would never have arranged for something as terrible as the kidnapping of a child. And I should be ashamed of myself for thinking it.

I pushed myself to run faster, even though I hadn’t properly warmed up yet, and broke a sweat within a few minutes. I ran harder than I usually ran, but I needed more, needed to burn and exhaust my muscles, purge myself.

When did things get so complicated? Isabella and I were DeMarcos. We hated the Benedetti family. That was simple. It was black-and-white. But this? This attraction, this pull toward Salvatore? My yielding to him? It didn’t make sense. And my questions about Izzy. About what my father potentially referred to in his letter. About having heard Dominic’s voice in her house late at night.

I was running too fast on unfamiliar terrain and not paying attention, so when I tripped over the exposed root of a large tree and went flying, I shouldn’t have been surprised. But when I tried to stand, I had to haul myself up with my arms. My left ankle was already starting to swell and hum with pain.

“Shit.”

I looked back toward the house, but I’d run too deep into the woods to see any more than the decorative chimney tops. I forced myself to stand, leaning all my weight on my right leg. Holding on to nearby trees, I hobbled toward the house. It wasn’t more than five minutes, though, before I realized I’d never get back there on my own, not with my ankle quickly doubling in size.

Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I unwrapped the earbuds and stuck one in my ear. I then scrolled down to where Salvatore had entered Marco’s number and dialed.

He answered quickly, sounding like my call surprised him. “Lucia?”

“You know how you said to try and not get lost when I’m running?

He chuckled, audibly relaxing. “Are you lost?”

“No, that’s not it. I’m not lost, and I didn’t even have any music blaring, but—”

“What?” he cut me off, his tone anxious. “What is it?”

“I caught my foot on a tree root and fell. I’m trying to get back to the house on my own, but my ankle’s swelling and hurts pretty badly.”

“Get your weight off it, and elevate it if you can. I’m coming. Just pulling into the gates now. Do you know which trail you took?”

“I headed east, same as the morning you ran into me, but I’ve already passed the spot where we stopped last time.”

“Okay, I’m on my way. Just keep talking to me, so I can hear you.”

I heard the sound of stones beneath the car’s tires. He really had just gotten back.

“Where did you go?” I asked, since he said to keep talking.

“To see my brother.”

Could I tell him my suspicions? But he continued talking as he walked—the front door opening, him saying something to Marco, sliding the glass doors open before the sounds of his footsteps crunching on the forest floor reached my ears as he hurried to me.

“My father, Roman, and he were in a meeting. Some days, I question my trust in Roman.”

“You do? Trust him, I mean?”

“Out of the three, yes. Sergio did too. But I know if push came to shove, he’d take care of himself first.”

“Was it Dominic who took Jacob? Did he admit it?”

“Yeah.”

“I can hear you! I mean, not just on the phone.”

“Hot-pink running shorts?” he asked.

I glanced down and smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing.”

“It’d be hard to miss you in those,” he said, hanging up as he came into view. He wore his usual uniform: dark T-shirt and jeans. And he made my mouth water.

Salvatore scanned me from head to toe and knelt down by my hurt foot, making me flinch as he lightly touched my swollen ankle.

“Ouch. Hey, your hands!” His knuckles were raw and bruised.

He looked at them as if seeing them for the first time and smiled proudly. “You should see Dominic’s face.”

“You beat him up?”

He nodded, his attention back on my ankle. “I’m going to lift you up and carry you back. Just let me make a call.”

He dialed, and I realized he’d called Rainey as soon as he said her name.

“Can you get Dr. Mooney out here for me? Lucia’s hurt her ankle. I don’t think it’s broken, but I’d like him to have a look anyway.”