Ultimately, Roman wasn’t head of the Benedetti family. How could he be if he wasn’t even a Benedetti? When I’d found out Salvatore had handed the entire operation over to him, I’d felt so angry. The Benedetti throne did not belong to him. Hell, it belonged less to him than me. He was the usurper.

Then what the hell was I if he was that? I was cut from the same cloth. It’d be good for me to remember that. The Benedetti name did not belong to me either. And ultimately, I’d bring it down. I wanted to end the Benedetti crime family. End their rule. Shove their noses into the dirt.

But I had to admit, it still burned. The thought that he, my uncle, was head of the family I’d so wanted to rule. It fucking burned.

After packing my few things into a duffel bag, I chose a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants for Gia to wear on the drive. She’d swim in the clothes, but it was better than being naked. I’d get her something that fit as soon as I could. Right now, we had to move. I didn’t know if Scava would come for her early. Take her to auction himself. Hell, fucking put a bullet in her head for all I knew. Victor Scava was a son of a bitch.

I entered her room and found her standing by the window, trying to peer out from between the slats.

She turned to face me, pressing her back against the wall when she did so, panic widening her eyes like it did every time I walked in. I studied her, trying to keep my attention on her face, not wanting to remember the things I’d done to her. Trying instead to focus on her eyes, her defiant, beautiful, sad, terrified eyes.

“Get dressed.” I tossed the clothes on the bed. “We’re leaving.”

It took her a minute to comprehend what I’d said.

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here. Hurry up.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“I…is it time? Is the two weeks up?”

I was confused for a moment, then realized she thought it was time to go to auction. “No. We’re leaving this place. I’m not taking you to the auction.”

“Then where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe.”

She studied me, uncertain.

“Let’s go. Unless you want to stay here and wait for someone to come find you. It could be today or a few days from now when you don’t show up at auction, but they will come, and I don’t want to be here when they do. Now I don’t mind you naked—in fact, I prefer it—but you might be more comfortable wearing clothes, seeing as how it’s freezing out there.”

“Why would you help me?”