Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 508

Chapter 508: She Knows Nothing

"Massimo!" Enzo cried. "She knows nothing!" Enzo stepped forward, hands raised, eyes fixed on Massimo. "Massi! Look at me, please. Don’t do this."

"How do I trust what you say?" Massimo asked coldly. "You had no idea what was going on inside your own family. Your daughter funded a war beneath your roof. You cannot assure me she knows nothing."

Enzo swallowed hard. "Massimo..."

Graziella suddenly laughed through her tears. "Kill me!" she cried. "Kill me!"

"Graziella, stop," Enzo snapped, but she was no longer listening to him.

"I will gladly join my daughter," she spat, her eyes blazing with hatred. "And if David truly has her, then I hope he gives her the most terrible death possible."

Massimo rose slowly from his chair. "I will gladly do the honours." He lifted his gun and aimed it at her.

Enzo stepped in front of Graziella, placing his body between Massimo’s weapon and his wife. His face had gone pale. Behind him, Graziella was still sobbing, still shaking with rage, but Enzo stood firm. "Massimo!" He shook his head, holding his old friend’s gaze. "Please..." Enzo said. "I will do what needs to be done to find your daughter-in-law, but please, let there be no more mourning in my home. I beg of you."

Massimo lowered his gun. Enzo did not move from where he stood in front of his wife. "If I find out, Enzo...that you are in league with your son... it will pain me, but I will bury you."

Enzo swallowed. "I have nothing to do with any of this...Believe me."

Massimo held his gaze for a long second. He wanted to believe him. Hated that he almost did. Friendship, no matter how battered, did not vanish cleanly. It lingered in the bones. In old memories. "Fine," Massimo said at last. "Fine." He looked around the living room one more time. Then he stepped forward and clapped Enzo on the shoulder.

"My condolences," Massimo said and walked out.

Marco and the men followed him, boots moving across marble, guns still in hand, leaving behind a room full of people who had just finished saying their last prayers.

Graziella’s screaming started before they reached the front door. Her voice chased them through the house, breaking apart into fury as she shouted at her husband, called him weak, accused him of betraying their daughter, their blood, their vengeance. Massimo did not look back.

*****

Veronica had lost track of time. Everything had become a whirlwind of broken moments and missing hours. She remembered the plane beginning its descent, remembered David’s hand closing around her arm, remembered the sharp bite of a needle. Then the world had blurred.

After that, there was only darkness. Now she was awake or mostly awake. Her head felt heavy, her mouth dry, her limbs sluggish. She was trapped inside what looked like a warehouse office, sitting on an inflatable bed that sagged beneath her weight. The room smelled of dust as if it hadn’t been used in a while.

No windows.

No clear way out.

No clue where he had taken her.

She had no idea what city or even country they were in. She knew, with clarity that it was entirely up to her to get out of this before David managed to lure Luca there.

The true danger was on Luca. The certainty that he would follow whatever trail David left, even if it led him straight to death.

Pleading.

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