His Queen: A Dark Forbidden Mafia Romance (Dark Sovereign Book 5)
His Queen: Chapter 20

My heart pounds against my chest as I shut off the engine. I stroke the ribbon in my hand, caressing it fondly, reminded of a lazy Sunday afternoon against an old oak tree where a promise was made. There’s a sharp pang in my chest as I see her face, her laughter ringing in my ears like sweet music. How fucking ironic, me spending my whole life protecting her from a memory that would destroy her, and now she’s trapped in the devil’s clutches.

“Fuck!” I bellow, slamming my fist into the steering wheel, jerking open the door before stepping out into the darkness.

The promised text came through an hour ago with a pin location and clearly stated instructions to go alone. I was about to fuck that instruction in the ass when another text followed with a picture of Mirabella, passed out on a field of grass, wearing a white nightgown illuminated by the moon.

There are no words that can describe what I felt at that moment, staring at that picture in horror. Like a hurt gazelle, she lay there, innocent and so fucking vulnerable in that open field, an easy target for sick motherfuckers. I could hack my own skin off to replace relief from the rage that burst through my insides, exploding from the fuel of fear.

The threat that followed was clear as day. Come alone, or she dies. It’s short and simple, but it does its job by squashing an unsurmountable amount of fear into my gut.

Alexius refused to let me go alone, but I insisted by pinning his back against the wall.

“I love you, brother. I do. But I swear to God, I will kill you if it means saving her.”

Those were the last words I said to him, and I wish it were a lie, but it’s not. There isn’t a person in this entire goddamn world I won’t kill to save her.

Now they’re all waiting a few miles from here in case I need them—an acceptable compromise.

I look up at the large, imposing estate looming before me. It’s shrouded in haunting shadows, meant to intimidate. But not me—a man who basks in the shadows and gets high off the harrowing.

Two large columns loomed to either side of the gate, statues of black horse heads towering on top. The wrought iron hinges moan as the gate opens, inviting me in, an early winter breeze spreading its chill through the trees, making them sway and creak. I know I should proceed cautiously, but the idea that she’s in there has me sprinting up the pathway, my desperate footsteps echoing in the silence. My shoes crunch the gravel beneath my feet as I run up the winding driveway. The estate seems to grow larger the closer I get, looming above me like a giant.

“Be aware of your surroundings.”

“Be aware of the competition as much as you are the prey.”

Caelian’s advice echoes in my head. If I had to choose one person I could bring with me, it would be him. I’ve seen a side to him I never knew existed, and I could do with the Jekyll to his Hyde right about now.

I hear the distant sound of a stream and the leaves of the trees rustling softly in the wind. The sky is clear, stars glimmering, and the air is filled with the smell of dirt and grass. It would be considered a romantic evening if it weren’t for the storms of hell wreaking chaos around me.

My feet come to a halt in front of the mansion, the gray stone façade as unwelcoming and cold as a tombstone. At least Nunzio could have tried to be less of a cliche by having an estate that doesn’t look like the Devil’s crib.

I look up at the front door of the house. Heavy wooden boards make up its thick, solid frame, with a large knocker shaped like a serpent adorning the center. I step cautiously toward it and feel a vibration in my back pocket. Fumbling, I pull out my phone.

“Nunzio,” I growl into the receiver.

“She’s not in the house, I’m afraid, so no need for you to go inside.”

I quickly glance around me, trying to see where the cameras are that he’s watching me from, but I’m hardly surprised that he has eyes and ears all over this fucking place.

“Why not just make it easy for the both of us and tell me where she is? We can skip this primal hunt bullshit.”

He snickers. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“This is fun to you, motherfucker?”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I go through so much trouble putting all this together?”

“Because you’re a dick.”

“Because I’m a man who doesn’t like being fucked with, and that’s what you did when you tried to bullshit me and everyone else by pretending the beautiful Mirabella was your wife.”

“She is my wife!” I yell into the phone. “She is my fucking wife, and you better not have laid a hand on her, or I swear—”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that.” Nunzio laughs, an evil cackle that makes my ears bleed, and I’m snarling in response, rage smothering every ounce of control I have.

“I’m going to kill you, Nunzio. Even if it takes me twenty fucking years, I won’t rest until I’ve carved your heart out of your chest.”

“How romantic,” he says smugly, and I can already taste his blood on my tongue.

I rub my temple. “You got me here, Ferrero. So, what the fuck now?”

“Here’s the deal. Find her first, and she’s yours. You can pick her up, put her in that snazzy car of yours, and drive her safely back to your fortress.”

“That easy, huh?”

“Well…no. See, there are four other men taking part in tonight’s hunt. Four men who have become regular clients of mine. And they are clients who—how can I put it?—have specific tastes. Fucked up tastes, really.”

“Nunzio, I swear to God.”

“Hey, man, I’m making this as easy as possible for you. Just replace her before they do. Easy.”

I scan the area. “There isn’t anyone else here,” I say.

“The others are all starting at different areas around the estate. I mean, honestly, it’s not going to be much of a game when you all just kill each other at the starting point.” The sound of his exhale has me picturing him all too clearly, an unmoving figure in the armchair, cigar clamped between two fingers, eyes narrowed as if deep in thought. Next to him is Lucifer grinning cunningly as a proud mentor who watched his apprentice put together every intricate detail of what has to be his most fucked-up game.

“Just know, Nunzio, when all this is done, I’m coming for you.”

“Looking forward to it. Good luck, Del Rossa.”

He hangs up, and for a moment, I stand there, frozen, trying to take in the gravity of what’s about to happen. I’d be a liar if I said there’s not a trace of panic in my system because there is. My wife is out there and about to be hunted by four other disgusting individuals across acres of woods. I have a one in five chance to replace her first. This is lunacy, but I’ll become the madness if it means I’ll replace her.

I take off running, heading away from the house and into the darkness. I use my instincts to guide me, trusting them more than any map or knowledge of this strange new terrain. I can hear noises in all directions—rustling branches, something scuttling away through dead leaves—but none are familiar enough for me to make out anything specific.

My chest tightens as I sprint through rows of trees, pushing harder than I ever have before. Fear is running rampant through the gallons of adrenaline, fueling me forward harder, stronger, faster. I won’t stop until I have her in my arms.

We had an hour to get our hands on the estate plans so I could have an idea of where the fuck I’m going. I know there’s a pond somewhere to the north and a big forest in the east, so I make my way toward it.

A gunshot cracks and echoes in front of me, and I stumble blindly before dropping to a crouch behind a large red oak tree, my gun in hand as I zone in on all my senses. Every sound pierces my ears as I listen intently when I hear leaves crunch under a heavy footstep.

I set my sights on the area in front of me, scanning the landscape draped in darkness. Seconds pass as I remain as silent as a goddamn mouse, barely fucking breathing with nothing happening before I finally see branches swish. Someone is coming my way, slow and steady. Adrenaline floods my system as I quickly raise my gun toward the figure but hesitate for a moment. What if it’s her? What if it’s Mira? It’s so fucking dark out here. If it weren’t for the moonlight, there would have been no way to navigate this terrain.

I’m crouched when a branch snaps and a silhouette appears in the distance. That’s when I know it’s not her. Mira doesn’t have broad shoulders or a wide chest, nor is she six feet tall.

I aim, let out a steady breath, waiting as my finger hovers on the trigger. Just a little closer. Just a tiny bit, and I’ll have a clear shot.

The figure stops, and my instincts are saying he knows I’m here, forcing me to aim fast, finger on the trigger, but at the last second, he ducks before I can fire off my shot. Knowing better than to waste another chance on such an opening, I leap out of hiding, coming down hard on him, grabbing his neck, pressing my gun against his chest, and I pull the trigger.

He shakes and stumbles backward, his eyes wide with terror. A loud thud echoes through the night as his body hits the ground, and for a brief second, relief brushes along the back of my neck, knowing that one of the four men who came here with the intention of hurting my wife is now burning in hell. If this were any other time, I’d take a few seconds to appreciate the daunting silence of this fucker’s death, then shudder to think what he would have done to her had he found her before I killed him.

I glance around me, ensuring he’s alone, and then I turn my back on his corpse. I don’t bother to cover him up. Let it be a warning to the next asshole who replaces him.

Renewed determination fills me as I take off, the darkness now my friend as every step I take is a step closer to replaceing her. I’m more than ready for whatever comes my way because my desperation to save her is far greater than my fear of what still lies ahead.