I stare up at him.

He shakes his head, scratches it. I look at the ring, and I see it on that banister again. Not the one in this house. A different house with a broken banister. Broken stairs.

“With the man who got you out of your prison. Let’s fucking go.” Out of patience, he takes my arm and shoves me into the car.

26

VITTORIA

We drive for over an hour and all the while I’m thinking, trying to make sense of what’s happened. What is happening. Did Amadeo and Bastian arrive at the house? Did they find Emma? I have to believe they have and that she’s safe.

I keep glancing at Lucien who must be having a conversation via text as I try to figure this out. I put my hand into my pocket and confirm the photo is there. It’s real. Why did he lie about not seeing them?

“Why did you come to Italy?” I ask.

He looks at me. “You give me a hard time when I don’t send men after you and then you give me a hard time when I come myself to save your ass.” He shifts his attention back to his phone and resumes his furious texting.

I watch out the window, not recognizing anything on roads that seem too far from civilization. It’s dark when the driver steers the car onto a narrow, single-lane dirt road, and I watch as we approach what must have once been an old factory. Three large SUVs with windows tinted black are parked outside, and none of this looks good.

“Where are we?” I ask as our car comes to a stop behind the three already there.

Lucien looks straight at me. “Time for you to pull your weight, sis.”

“What?”

He climbs out and holds the door open, waiting for me to follow him. I look at the building. It’s dark but for a light coming from a room at the far end of the row of windows.

“Out.”

“What is this?” I ask, remaining in the car.

He reaches in and grabs my arm to drag me out.

“This is you doing your part for once in your fucking life,” he says. I tug to get free, but he slams me backward against the car so hard it knocks the wind out of my lungs. “Did he tell you he changed the will?”

“What?”

“Did he fucking tell you? Were you laughing at me behind my back all along?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me go.”

“Did you know all along like that conniving lawyer of his?”

“No. I didn’t know anything. Let me go, Lucien.”