Sold to Mr. Giordano

Chapter 57



RoccoNôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

I watch as the car Arielle is in drives away and heads toward the airport. There is no way in hell New York is safe for her anymore, or at least not right now.

I worry Antonio isn’t going to make it through this injury. I’ve seen my brother survive a ton of shit, but from the looks of where the bullet hit… let’s just say I’m not very optimistic.

I stare at the black car until it’s so far in the distance I can no longer make it out. I exhale for the first time since landing in New York. Arabella had called me frantically and begged me to come, she said Antonio said it was urgent. My brother could handle things on his own, always has, but calling me to a different state and needing help meant he was in a shit ton of trouble.

When I landed Arabella sent me the address of Luca’s apartment building and I took the elevator all the way up to the penthouse. The stench of blood and rotting flesh filled my nose automatically. Arabella was crying while Antonio was cleaning off blood from his hands and face. I walked closer to where Antonio was to see Luca brutally mutilated.

That’s when Antonio explained what the Ricci’s planned and how Arielle is kidnapped and held hostage by Marco at some Bratva warehouse. At first, I was frustrated because checking every warehouse in the New York area would be tedious but then he gave me names and I went to work.

Samuel, Archie and Joseph were the names put in my personal lottery and it so happened that Samuel was the lucky draw. It was also lucky for me the poor bastard had two young sons and a pretty wife. I used that wonderful app FaceTime on his wife’s Apple phone and called Samuel. He answered with a smile but by the end of the conversation he was in tears and had spilled all his secrets including the whereabouts of the warehouse where Arielle was.

Antonio and I acted quick but first made sure that when we got Arielle out, there would be an escape car waiting to take her far away from the chaos. His main priority was keeping her safe and I had never seen my brother so out of his mind about another person. Arielle was consuming his every rational thought and his protect at all costs mode was activated and he’d risk everything to keep his wife safe.

I concluded then that my brother was in love.

Standing outside the room where Arielle was held hostage, I can’t bring myself to go. I know I should see if the doctor is working efficiently or to see if he need help or to even just see if my brother is alive, but I can’t. I can’t and it makes a damn coward.

I rub at my face harshly hoping that I’ll wake up from the nightmare and the phone call from Arabella was all just a dream. Antonio is fine.

Antonio has to be fine.

I’ve seen my brother endure torture and didn’t bat a single fucking eye, didn’t flinch, or scream, or cry. Antonio has always been the toughest man I knew. My father might’ve been strong, but he was a sick bastard that went too far. Antonio never crossed that line. Antonio drew the line at torturing children and raping women. My father thought that was weakness but I always thought that it was courage. My father was the weak one who had to prey on those weaker than him. Just like Marco and Luca. If anyone deserves to be Capo, it’s Antonio.

Distance voices and sounds of footsteps have me on my feet and reaching for my weapon. I hide behind a corner and wait until I have a visual. Fuck, that’s just fucking great. That’s all I need is for Marco’s men and Bratva coming in here and killing us all or interrupting the doctors surgery session with my brother.

A large man with a shaved skull walks around the corner allowing me to get a good look at him the closer he gets. I recognize the language is Russian. Marco’s men would’ve been easier to convince than the fucking Bratva. The main peers into the room where Antonio and the doctor are and the Russian bastard pulls his gun out and starts yelling.

“Where is Marco?” He asks and looks down at the ground. “Blyad! Step away from him, Doc, he’s our prisoner now.”

I shoot on instinct and the man with the shaved head falls to the floor and a pool of blood surrounds him. All hell breaks loose as the six other men who accompanied him pull out their firearm and half run in my direction while the other half bark orders I can’t make out to the doctor.

I point my gun and shoot another one of Bratva but only injuring him. He falls the ground with a shout of pain. His two friends follow me until we are on the second floor of the warehouse. With every step the unsteady metal flooring creaks making it infuriatingly hard to hide.

I try anyways hiding my body against a large cargo box. The idiots run past me and I trip the second and put a bullet into his head. The last one remaining of those who followed after me pounces on me with a growl. My gun goes flying out of my hand as my back hits the floor and the blond haired man with vodka breath straddles my body and wraps his meaty hands around my throat.

My airway is cut off and I’m choking for air. I use my fist to punch up his nose and with the amount of force I provide his nose bone goes straight into his brain killing him instantly. I push the fat Russian bastard off my body and rush downstairs hoping to see my brother still alive.

I grab my gun and my heart drops when I see that the only things left where my brother was laying is just a pool of his blood.

He’s gone along with the doctor.

I run out of the compound to see two Bratva dragging my brother and the doctor away. Dragging my brother makes them slow, which means easy target practice. I raise my pistol, take a deep breath and aim.

That’s when everything goes dark and I lose consciousness.


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