Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Seventy Four

Niko

Luca gazes at me with an expression of disbelief, his wide eyes shimmering with curiosity. He tilts his head slightly to one side, reminiscent of a perplexed child.

"My grandfather has an island here?" he questions, each word laced with incredulity. "That can't be true; his estate was divided between my father and grandmother after his passing."

"Do you doubt Mitchel's word?" I inquire, a flicker of uncertainty gnawing at me as I ponder whether we should trust him. We still haven't had that talk about Alexandra. Considering it, what did happen to her?

"What happened to Alexandra?" I ask Luca, my voice barely rising above the muted sounds of the bustling market. I take another drag from my third cigarette in just ten minutes, the smoke curling around me like a restless ghost.

We're making our way back to the dock, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the aroma of street food sizzling nearby. Our goal is to find Sven; his perspective on recent events is crucial. We must also refuel the yacht, ensuring it's ready to carry us across the islands I've been itching to explore.

"Someone came for her. She was hurt—shot, I believe," Luca replies, his expression darkening with concern. "She vanished during the chaos between my parents' men and Densels' crew."

"She's Densels' daughter," I remind him, a sense of urgency creeping into my tone. That's enough reason for them to take her. I can't remember if I've mentioned this before or if my thoughts have scattered like leaves in the wind. "She's furious with Mitchel. She claimed he betrayed every vow he ever made. She wanted him dead."

"That could be problematic for him. He's been tight-lipped about everything; I hit a wall every time I press him. He's not willing to admit whatever went down between them. Personally, I don't think he wants to incriminate her. Loose ends and all that," Luca says, frustration evident in his voice.

"He fought so hard to be with her. His father opposed it from the start," I recite, recalling the fervour in Mitchel's eyes when he spoke of Alexandra.

"His father saw her as a liability because she didn't come from one of the prominent families. He wanted a union that would enhance their business interests, not one that catered to his son's personal desires," Luca adds, shaking his head slightly.

"Well, he was sorely mistaken in that regard, wasn't he?" I chuckle, the sound bittersweet as we transition from the vibrant market stalls to the sandy beach that leads to the dock.

Luca strides ahead, and I linger behind, my mind racing. What on earth do I say to Sven? Thanks for taking a beating, but Bianca left anyway? It all feels so convoluted and painful, the weight of uncertainty heavy in the air.

But with the last wisps of smoke extinguished, my boot grinding it into the coarse sand, I have no choice but to face the harsh reality ahead, and I desperately need more painkillers for this goddamned shoulder.

"He awake?" I hear Luca's voice cutting through the air like a knife as I leap onto the deck, navigating the narrow corridor that leads down to the boat's hull.

Our crew fills the expansive vessel to the brim, creating an intimate yet suffocating atmosphere. More than thirty of us huddle together in this cramped space, laughter mingling with the salty scent of the sea as they pass around steaming plates of food from the small kitchen.

"Ensure the docks are covered," Luca instructs, his tone authoritative, before striding purposefully down the dimly lit hallway toward one of the cramped rooms.

"Already sorted, boss," Mass replies with a smirk, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes as he casts a disappointed glance in my direction before turning away. Ah, yes, that chasm between us is now a canyon. I've clearly rubbed Mass the wrong way. Is it the brotherhood we vowed to uphold, one that swears never to fall in love, or is it simply that he can't stand Bianca and the mess she seems to bring behind her?

It could be a mixture of both.

Dismissing my thoughts, I quickened my pace down the hall, determined to keep up with Luca. I will only uncover the truth about Sven's ordeal by confronting him directly.

"Luca," Sven greets him, his voice low and gravelly, just as I slip through the doorway. I catch sight of Luca, already unbuttoning his shirt, rolling up his sleeves with an air of casual authority. He sits confidently in a chair opposite Sven, who is perched on the edge of the bed, a firm yet neutral expression etched onto his face.

"She's gone," Sven states flatly, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud between us.

"Yeah, I know that," I reply, my frown deepening as Sven looks at me guiltily. "But what I don't understand is what the hell happened to you."

"I chose to leave; I couldn't bring myself to believe you would keep us safe. And sending in that phone was a sure way to track its whereabouts, not to mention the tracker they led us to believe resided in Bianca. But you have accomplished a far better job than I ever could. We wouldn't have gotten out of that hotel without your quick thinking."

"We both failed," I reply with a slight shrug, my gaze drifting toward Luca as I make my way over to where Sven is sitting. He has tidied himself up a bit now—his injuries are still visible in the form of cuts and bruises, the only remnants of the brutal attack he endured. The blood that once stained his skin is gone, along with the vacant, haunted expression the drugs had induced. "Can you walk me through what happened?"

"I went to seek assistance from a friend. I could trust him, so I thought. I contemplated our next move as I gathered weapons from his boss's boat shed. I even looked into securing his boat—for the possibility of a hasty escape loomed over us like a dark cloud. The Densels were undoubtedly lurking, waiting for their chance; their presence came after I sought help, and my friend went directly to them. They exchanged money for the tip-off of my whereabouts. Franko, that insufferable prick, was at the centre of it all."

"So it was him?" Luca asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and concern. "They were here. Did you see a boat? Can you describe it?"

"Yes, Franko was the one pulling the strings during our encounter. Benji was there too, and looked like a scared puppy, along with Densel himself. He was never a pleasure, always a smarmy prick, but he seems to be ageing backwards; if I'm honest, I didn't recognise him initially, not that many see him often, he's always been a fucking hermit, oh, and there were a few of his loyal henchmen. It was a setup I never saw coming. To think that the friend I once trusted had betrayed me, leading me straight into their trap. Many of the locals here are entangled in Densel's web of influence, or they wanted me to believe that. And no, no boat out of the ordinary. I saw nothing of helpful detail."

"Mitchel, Drake, and I exercise majority rule over the mainland here," Luca asserts confidently, a glint of authority in his eyes. "It's mafia land, we own it."

"Not quite," comes the retort, laced with scepticism. "They might bow down to your presence, but whispers linger in the shadows when you're not around. It seems many have been bought off—a promise of protection in exchange for secrets. Densel is embedding himself so deeply into this world that the moment any newcomer arrives, they will undoubtedly seek him out. Make no mistake, Densel is acutely aware of your numbers. He'll have an army at his disposal, waiting to strike."

"Did you uncover anything?" I interrupted urgently, lacing my words as I leaned in closer, eager for any shred of information.

"Nothing," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. A grimace crossed his face as he shifted his gaze back to Luca, the weight of unspoken worries hanging heavily between us. "Only that they wanted to send a clear message. Emma's being watched. Her death will be certain if you look for Bianca," Sven warns.

"And Emma will skin me alive if I hold back. That's her only family. I'm in a sticky predicament," Luca sighs, knowing that he will have to go against the warning despite the threat.

"Can you trust your father?" Sven adds, taking me by surprise.

"Why would you say that?" Luca asks, shifting forward, leaning one arm on his thigh. He's nervous about the question. And I would be too if it were Bianca with him.

"Franko mentioned Moretta, but I'm not sure which one, but he said I would send a clear message. I'm not close to you, but I am your father. So perhaps...what am I saying?" Sven backtracks. "He's like a brother to me."

"I need to make some calls," Luca stands, excusing himself no doubt to call Emma for reassurance.

Is Dimitri part of all this?