Page 56 of Stolen Bride

I pull out the hidden launcher, and the vehicle only comes to a stop long enough to get in my sights. Bastards. I shoot it, sending it up and landing on the SUV, turning it to molten metal in seconds.

The other vehicle quickly speeds off, but I have surveillance that will be of good use. We don’t approach until the all-clear is given, but I wait before I take my wife inside our estate. Filo holds off until I tell him to let her out because there’s no way I want anyone to be lying in wait. My father and his men pull up in a dozen vehicles and join my men around the property, guns ready.

My body is vibrating with rage, seething as I consider the ramifications. We were obviously observed leaving the club, and it could have been at a distance because it’s a very popular area, but it doesn’t change a damn thing. War is what they want, and war is what they’ll get.

Walking to the vehicle, I open the door and my wife is no longer inside, but neither is my driver. “Son of a bitch. They’re gone. Where did they go? Get me cameras. He’s taken my wife.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Stella sighs, coming from the line of trees. Her lip is busted, and her forehead is bleeding.

“Amore, Angel.” I drag her to me and see the knife from my office.

“He’s involved. He dragged me away, and I’m glad I grabbed the knife.”

“Gun lessons tomorrow,” I growl, holding her to my chest, breathing harshly as I think about all the fucking heads that are about to roll.

“Get her inside and protected,” my father says.

“She needs a medic,” I grunt. “Where’s that piece of shit?”

“He’s not going to be able to speak,” Stella says with a weak smile.

“Good girl.” I look down at her, tipping her chin, and then her face contorts.

“My belly hurts, Dame.” She collapses in my arms. I rush her into the house, but she really needs a hospital. My housekeeper meets me at the door and leads the way to our room.

“Let me get her cleaned up.” She’s carrying the first-aid kit already, and another maid brings over wet washcloths. Normally I never let all these people in my room, but nothing matters but my wife’s care. “Please back up, Mr. Valentino.” I move around and give her some space.

“Stella, can you tell me where you’re hurt besides your head?”

“My stomach.”

“Okay. Can I check your panties?” She nods, and my housekeeper starts to lift Stella’s dress.

“Close the door,” I snarl. The maid shuts the door as she checks Stella’s underwear.

“Good news so far—I don’t see any blood. I can’t say anything, but blood might mean a miscarriage.” That’s really fucking good to know, but she said it’s just a sign.

“Still, she needs a doctor.” The maid wipes Stella’s forehead, and then they clean the cut. There’s a nasty bruise on her face that sets my teeth on edge.

A rapid knock at the door sends me to my feet. I rush to the door and nearly tear it off the hinges. “Oh my God,” my sister sobs, rushing into the room followed by my mother and then the doctor.

“She needs medical attention now. She’s pregnant,” I order.

“I need everyone, including you, to give me space.” Everyone steps back and the doctor takes over. “Mrs. Valentino, I’m going to touch you.”

As much as I should be pissed that he’s a man examining my wife, nothing matters because I want her better. He palpitates around her belly and looks.

“Can you explain what happened?” He checks the wounds on her head and the scratches on her arms, most taken care of by my staff. “He pointed a gun at me the second Dame exited the vehicle, and then told me to exit quietly or he’d shoot me before Damiano could reach me.” She sobs, but then catches her breath and continues. “I slid out with my purse on, and he yanked me through the tree line. I knew I didn’t have much time, so I fell to the ground and then he hit me with the gun, telling me to get up or he’d kill me right on the spot.”

I take her hand, hoping that will give us both the strength—her to continue telling the rest, and me from not going insane right now and killing every damn man I see.

“It was fuzzy for a moment, but then I had enough. Sliding the switchblade you gave me tonight from my purse, I popped it open and stabbed him in the throat, pulled it out, and then shoved it in his hand that he had the gun in. He fell on me, and that’s when I pushed off and ran back.”

“Fucking badass, girl. My sister-in-law is ice cold. Who would have ever imagined?”

“My dark angel.”

“How far along are you, my dear?”