Page 72 of Enduring Caine

A man’s voice came over the intercom. “I have Samantha.”

“Vincenzo, where are you taking me?” she asked, voice quavering.

I looked to the screen before they vanished then reappeared on another display as they made their way to the stairs. “If you hurt her, I swear, you will never see the rest of your family again.”

Giovanni’s cheeks pinched and the vein in his forehead pulsed, a sign his rage simmered just below the surface.

I tensed my muscles and braced my jaw, preparing for a blow. But I wouldn’t back down. Samantha’s life depended on it. I glared at him, displaying as much strength and confidence as I could muster. That was my woman and I’d give my dying breath to protect her.

One of his hands balled into a fist, but instead of backhanding me, he slammed it down on the desk. He paused for a moment, head hanging over the keyboard, then hit several keys.

Delete file?the display read. And he hitAccept.

My breath caught.

“Tell me who she’s spying for.”

“She’s not.” I continued clenching my muscles to fend off the tremble. What was going on? “I’ll be sure nothing like this happens again.”

Giovanni nodded. “Leo’s convinced the men who delivered the crate were responsible, so he can continue believing that.”

His breaths were deep, a similar war no doubt waging inside of him to the one inside me. “You say I concede nothing. Take this as my show of good faith. I’ll keep your secret, but in return, you stay and accept the gift coming tomorrow.”

“Fine.” I should have dropped to my knees in thanks, but instead, I pressed my luck in case he changed his mind and decided to take Samantha in the middle of the night. “Samantha’s staying with me tonight.”

He navigated the security displays showing Samantha and Vincenzo arriving at her room. Her shoulders caved in and tears streaked her face. She spoke frantically with him, but no sound came through from the secondary displays.

This was not my Samantha. Before New Year’s, she would have faced this threat, but that night had scarred her. She’d refused to see a therapist or grief counselor for more than five minutes. Told me she was fine.

But this scene told a different story. I gestured to the screen. “She’s no threat.”

“Or she’s simply a better liar than you.” He straightened, turning to look at me. The vein in his forehead had calmed, but his nostrils remained flared. “My dream was clear, St. Peter said—”

“Thatyouhad to change because of what you’ve done in your life.” This was a hole I shouldn’t have dug, but if he was so desperate to have me there, I’d take what I needed. “His decision had nothing to do with me, my girlfriend, or our relationship. I need to be sure she’s safe.”

“It’s my house and there are plenty of guards to protect her.”

“One of your men is dead, Zio! That means either one of your employees is responsible or someone snuck into the estate. If she’s not safe here, we’re leaving.” I turned to go, but he grabbed my arm.

“I’ll allow her to stay with you.” His eyes glinted in the light of the displays. “But only so you can keep a closer eye on her. If I get any hint she’s working for the authorities—”

“You won’t.”

Chapter 32

Samantha

Istaredouttheterrace door, into the dark night, then spun and walked to the front door of my room. Back and forth, over and over. Leonardo had arrived in the wine cellar first, hurling every accusation at me. I was behind this. I was party to a conspiracy. I’d killed Johann myself.

But his rage made it clear they either hadn’t found the camera, or they had and couldn’t link it to me. So I did the only thing I could think of: I played the helpless victim, crying and asking for Antonio.

He had to return eventually. The men wouldn’t say anything about him, instead having Vincenzo whisk me away. Then he confined me to my room like the prisoner I was.

I should have gone to Mario’s.

But would Elliot have asked Antonio aboutThe Magdalen? If he had, what would Antonio have said? Would Giovanni have taken him to see the gallery? And would Antonio have even noticed it among all the other masterpieces stuffed in there?

I shoved open the terrace door, into a much warmer and more humid night than any of the others since we’d arrived. Voices floated around me as guards rushed about the estate. My discovery in the wine cellar had thrown the place into chaos.