The Don and His Mafia Princess: Book Two of The Costanzo Series - Standalone

CHAPTER 41

It's been a few days since we arrived in California, and Stefano has been working tirelessly to uncover who is responsible for the devastating warehouse fire. I took some time off work to be by his side, offering support and assistance in any way I can. But despite my best efforts, Stefano has been coming home late each night, spending long hours at the office.

As I lay in bed, I toss and turn, finding it impossible to drift off without the comforting warmth of Stefano's arms around me. It's surprising how quickly I've grown accustomed to his presence, to the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling me to sleep.

Restless, I climb out of bed and pad downstairs, thinking a glass of warm milk might help soothe my racing thoughts. But as I descend the stairs, I freeze, hearing unfamiliar voices emanating from the living room. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up - something isn't right. Stefano would have turned on the lights if he had brought guests over, but the house is shrouded in darkness.

My heart hammers in my chest as I start to turn back, intending to retrieve my phone from the bedroom. But before I can take a step, a blinding pain explodes in the back of my head. I reach up instinctively, my fingers coming away slick with blood.

Dizziness washes over me in nauseating waves, and I struggle to make sense of what's happening. My vision blurs, the edges darkening as I fight to stay conscious. Questions swirl in my mind - who are these people, what do they want, where is Stefano?

But before I can form a coherent thought, the darkness closes in, dragging me under. As I slip into unconsciousness, one last desperate plea echoes in my mind.

Please let Stefano find me before it's too late.

***

I open my eyes, blinking against the throbbing pain radiating from the back of my skull. As my vision clears, the first person I see is Ivan, looming over me with a sinister smirk twisting his once-handsome features. Confusion and dread war within me as I try to lift my hand to touch my aching head, only to realize I'm bound tightly to one of the dining room chairs, my limbs secured with rough ropes that chafe against my skin.

"It's good of you to finally join us, krasivyy," Ivan purrs, his voice dripping with false sweetness. He's seated on the couch, flanked by five menacing men. My eyes dart to the elevator, where I see the crumpled forms of Stefano's guards lying motionless on the floor. A chill runs down my spine as the reality of my situation sinks in.

"What is the meaning of this, Ivan?" I demand, trying to keep my voice steady. "Why are you here, and why am I tied up?"

Ivan leans forward, his eyes glinting with malice. "How do I explain this to you, krasivy? I think I'll start with my name. It's not Ivan. Let me reintroduce myself - I'm Vladimir Aleksander."

The name hits me like a physical blow, my blood turning to ice in my veins. "That's impossible," I whisper. "Stefano killed you years ago." Vladimir Alesksander is the name of the former Kazan gang leader.

Ivan's laugh is harsh and grating. "He tried, but he failed. I survived the fire he left me to die in."

My mind reels, trying to make sense of his words. "Even if you survived, your body should be covered in scars."

"Amazing what modern medicine can do, isn't it? Plastic surgery works wonders. It's why even your precious Stefano couldn't recognize me. He had no idea all this time."

Bile rises in my throat as the pieces fall into place. Stefano's instinctive distrust of Ivan. I curse myself for being so blind.

"I can't believe I was foolish enough to be friends with you."