I didn't exactly choose to be stolen at four years old.
But the French underworld isn't big on consent.
One minute I was Donatella Acardi, Mafia royalty. The next? Just another stolen kid bleeding in someone else's basement.
That's where I met Ami...
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Donatella POV:
I didn't even flinch when the door creaked open. My focus was completely somewhere else, eyes glued to the glass in my hand, one leg crossed lazily over the other."I told you we should've looked through it sooner." I said it out loud without looking back, fingers still tight around the edge of the dresser as I stared blankly at the wall where I'd embedded my blade earlier.
Silence.
"Amir, I swear to God, if we find out Dimitri's-"
"Talking to ghosts again, sorella?"
The voice wasn't Amir's.
It was Enzo's.
Sharp. Sarcastic. Tinted with the same smugness that made me want to strangle him every time he opened his mouth.
I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.
My body tensed. Slowly-painfully slowly-I turned.
There he was. Enzo.
And behind him, framed in the doorway like the damn Three Musketeers of betrayal, were Luca, Gino, and Nicolo.
Luca looked hesitant. His eyes flitted from me to the others like he was already regretting being here.
Gino stood there like a statue, arms crossed, dark eyes narrowed. He was already signing something-probably along the lines of *'I told you this was dumb.'*
And Nicolo?
Oh, Nicolo had Amir.
Had him by the arms, pinned behind his back with some makeshift ties. His lip was split like he'd tried to fight his way out of it, but he wasn't saying a word. His eyes met mine.
Then I saw it.
My breath caught.
And in Luca's hand?
The burner computer.
That's when I knew.
We were so stupid.
So fucking stupid.
Enzo took slow, heavy steps into the room, gun raised and trained on me. Not shaking. Steady. Practiced. It wasn't a bluff. If he didn't shoot me, he'd sure as hell shoot Amir.
"You two must think you're slick," he said, voice smooth, low, and goddamn smug. "Sneaking into Leonardo's office, going through his shit. What'd you think, huh? That no one would notice? That you're untouchable?
Fuck.
Amir's face was calm. But not relaxed. No. His
jaw was tight. His eyes flicked toward me once. The smallest nod. A warning, maybe. Or maybe just an apology. Either way, it pissed me off. Not at him. At the fact that we'd gotten caught. That they had gotten the drop on us. The two best fucking assassins on the planet, and we'd gotten
