Chapter 74: Finding My Wife’s Inheritance.
Dante’s POV
I sat in the backseat, Bruno at the wheel, and for the hundredth time, my thoughts drifted to Gianna Giovanni. Her name alone was enough to send a jolt through my veins, but the memory of her, the taste of her on my lips, the way her skin had felt under my hands, was a constant, almost painful ache.
I was supposed to be leaving to see my daughter, focusing on her, but instead, I felt this weight in my chest, this strange, foreign longing. I was already missing Gianna, and that wasn’t supposed to happen.
She was all I could think about. Every second of last night replayed in my mind, the way she’d been, vulnerable, yet daring. Walking in and catching her like that, touching herself, lost in her own heat…… I’d never expected it.
And yet, I didn’t give in. I couldn’t. Not because I didn’t want her, but because I wanted her to surrender on my terms. I wanted to break her walls, make her submit, and as much as I craved her, part of me was addicted to the struggle, the chase, the power, the tension between us.
My phone buzzed against my thigh, yanking me out of my thoughts. I thumbed the screen open.
Angelo: Don, we’ve captured Lorenzo’s financial operator. He’s secured at Warehouse 12, dockside. We need you here now.
“Bruno,” I gritted out, anger coursing through me like fire in my veins. “Turn the car around.”
His hands tightened on the wheel, brows furrowed. “I thought we were going to see your daughter.”
“There’s been a change of plans,” I said flatly as adrenaline surged through me. Angelo found Lorenzo’s money
man.
He swore under his breath and slammed the wheel, swinging the car around. “Fuck yeah. I can’t wait to lay my hands on that bastard.”
“You won’t have to wait long.”
Bruno planted his foot and the car lunged forward, the city sliding away behind us.
If this was the man who moved Lorenzo’s money, he’d know where my wife’s inheritance ended up, where Lorenzo hid what he stole from Esmeralda. If he kept his mouth shut, I’d make sure he didn’t stay silent long
We pulled up to the warehouse. Angelo waited by the door, two of my men at his back. His sleeves were rolled up, knuckles still raw. He didn’t bother with small talk.
“Don,” he said, stepping forward. “Good to see you. It’s been a while.”
I took his hand and squeezed once. “You too, Angelo.”
Bruno climbed out, shutting the door with a heavy thud. Angelo nodded at him and gestured toward the building He’s inside. Tried to flee the city. Bag packed, fake passport the whole thing. We got him before he made it out.”
Angelo reached for a tablet from one of the men and handed it to me. “This is everything we found ”
I scrolled. Name first, then history, movements. Mateo Alvarez. College buckly of Lorenzo’s. No kid, girlfriend pregnant, they said. He’d moved money for Lorenzo. He’d dden things for him.
I handed the tablet back without fuss. “Good work.” My voice was calm. I meant it.
Angelo’s face went flat with the kind of satisfaction that comes from results. “Just want him to pay.”
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Chapter 24 Finding My Weishertence
“Soon,” I said. “Let’s finish it.”
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Angelo led the way in. From the outside, the warehouse looked like any other abandoned building by the docks. Nobody knew what it really was. Only a few of my most trusted men did. This was the place where betrayals were settled….. where confessions weren’t asked for, they were taken.
He pushed open the back door. Lights were low. A man sat in the center of the room, chained to a chair. Lanky frame, dark hair, shirt torn, blood dried on one side of his face. Angelo and the boys had already left their mark. Still, he held his head up.
When he looked at us, it wasn’t fear. It was fury, the kind that comes from choosing the wrong side.
“That him?” I asked.
Angelo nodded. “Lorenzo’s money man. He hasn’t said a word since we brought him in.”
I moved closer and felt the room tighten. Bruno stayed a step behind, loose and ready.
I circled him once, slow. It’s a simple thing, make a man measure the air around him, hear his breath. He fidgeted in the chains. Metal clicked like he wanted to say something and couldn’t.
I stopped in front of him and looked down. “What’s your name?” I asked, acting like I hadn’t already read every detail about his life. It was a small psychological trick, make him think he still had something to hide.
He spat to the side, a red streak across the floor, and kept his mouth shut.
Angelo’s hand shot out before I could do more. His fist landed hard. The man’s head jerked. Blood came from his lip.
“Name,” Angelo demanded.
The man swallowed, coughed, then answered, voice rough Mateo.”
I rolled my sleeves down slowly until my forearms showed. A small thing. It meant work. It always meant work.
“We could do this easy,” my tone was low, “or the way you prefer.” I let it hang. Calm sounds worse on a man who’s about to lose something.
“I don’t know anything. I swear,” he rasped.
I smirked. He was playing the denial game. “We’ll see.” I squared my shoulders. “I’ve got a few questions. You tell me the truth, maybe I’ll let you live.”
I knew it was a lie. Promises like that loosen tongues every time. Still, the idea of a way out makes even the hardest men talk.
Mateo tried to look indignant. “You’ve got the wrong man, mixed me up with someone else.”
Angelo’s fist tightened and he took a step forward, knuckle white, like he wanted to finish the sentence with a broken bone.
“Patience,” I said, sliding a hand onto his forearm, firm. “Not yet.”
Angelo eased back, the blood in his eyes still bright. He did’t like waiting, but he did what I said.
I stepped closer to Mateo. He jerked at the chains like motion could stave off whatever was coming. Metal clinked. One leg kicked, then sagged.
“Mateo Alvarez,” I said slowly, letting the name land. “You worked with Lorenzo for ten years, college buddies, then he pulled you out when you were drowning in debt. In return, you started working for him, moving his money, routing transfers to the Caymans, opening shell companies. You laundered it, covered the tracks. Don’t act
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Chapter 74 Finding My Wife’s inheritance
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surprised.”
His eyes widened, startled that I knew the truth, then, just as quickly, he masked it, pretending he had no idea who I was talking about.
“Let’s try this again.” I hooked two fingers under his chin and tilted his face up until his eyes met mine. “Where is Lorenzo Giovanni?”
He spat a smear of blood, jaw working. “Lorenzo’s dead. Died in a car accident,” he ground out. “That’s all I know.”
I pressed closer until he could smell me. “And yet you’ve been moving money around for a dead man,” I said coldly. “Strange business.”
His brows drew as he tried to pull the lie together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he croaked.
“Wrong answer.”
Bruno didn’t hesitate. He drew the pistol from his hip and slid it into my hand.
Thumb on the slide, the gun clicked like a judge’s gavel in the small room. For a beat, I held it to Mateo’s temple and watched the color drain from his face.
“Please……. don’t,” he begged, voice raw.
I didn’t give him that mercy. I lowered the barrel, leveled it at his thigh, careful. I wanted him alive. I wanted him to remember.
I pulled the trigger.
He screamed, loud and animalistic, as he slammed his chained hands toward the wound, trying to stop the pain. His legs folded under him, blood soaking through his trousers and dripping onto the concrete.
I pressed the muzzle against his fingers until they unclenched and he howled. My voice stayed low. “Enough of the games. Tell me what I need to know, or I’ll put more holes in you until you’ve got nothing left to bargain with. I’m not killing you. I want you to live with this. When the pain eases, we make it worse. Understand me?”
“Y–yes……. yes…….” he screamed. “Fuck…… it hurts……. get me a doctor…..”
“Not until you tell Don what he wants,” Bruno growled at him.
Mateo shook, sweat running into fresh blood. He breathed ke someone trying to hold a secret underwater. Finally, he spoke, words scraping out. “I don’t know if Lorenzo’s alive. I haven’t seen him since the raid….. And after the accident, orders kept coming, move money into accounts. I did what I was told. Please….. help me.”
“How about my wife’s inheritance?” I asked.
He blinked, the question cutting through him. Pain pulled his face, but the answer came. “I transferred it. Opened new offshore accounts. I moved the money.”
“Make the transfer back,” I said, simple and direct.
“I can’t,” he whispered, voice breaking. He stared at the floor, then up at me, defeated.
Bruno leaned in, face hard. “You’re lying.”
Mateo spat blood, shook his head so hard his chains rattled, “No. I’m not. Not even Lorenzo can touch it.”
He swallowed, each word forced. “The funds are under Gianna Giovanni’s name. Lorenzo set it up like that, said it’d hide the trail. It’s locked. Only a spouse or someone with power of attorney can move it. He told me himself, if anything happens, no one touches it unless she’s married.‘
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
