“Please don’t mention that foul man’s name in my home, Mr. O’Mara.” Sofia grimaced. “Kasilli is a monster. He murdered his first wife, and he accelerated my sister’s decline with his brutish temper and many abuses.”
“Yes, he’s a terrible person, but he isn’t why I’m here.”
“Of course.” She stood. “No, dear, sit there. I’m going to fetch something. I think it will help the situation.”
Shane tried not to fidget as the old dear shuffled around his chair and toward the desk behind him. What could she possibly be searching for as she rustled papers? His heart accelerated at the thought of her giving him an address for some kind of retreat. He already knew Aldo wasn’t at his large estate because Shane had burned it to the ground earlier in the evening after ascertaining no one was inside—especially not Mia or the worthless, sadistic bastard he hunted.
“Here we are. This should be of assistance.”
Shane started to turn, and his body went rigid at the white-hot pain exploding in his shoulder. At first, he couldn’t understand what had happened and assumed the gunshot wound in his chest had caused the pain. Only when he looked down to see the tip of a blade protruding from his flesh did he realize the sweet old lady had stabbed him.
“What the fuck?” Shane staggered upright as she pulled out the knife with more strength than she should possess. He evaded her when she waved it at him, but his balance was off, and he sprawled on the floor. “Are you crazy?”
“I’m helping my nephew.” Hatred shone from her cold, beady eyes as Sofia waved the knife in his direction. “Mia belongs to him. He’s loved her for years.”
“She’s in danger.”
“Because she’s a whore.” She glared at him, thrusting the knife toward him as he started to get to his feet. “She squandered his love and left him. He cried in my arms many times as I comforted him, shedding tears for the girl who had left him. I tried to be Mia for him, but a young man wants a young woman, and I could only do so much.”
Nausea hit him as the implication behind her words penetrated his brain. “You’re as sick as he is.”
“The gall of you, coming here to my home and demanding I help you find my nephew so you can steal Mia from him again?” She wagged the knife again. “If I had been faster, you would be dead now, you filthy mick.”
Shane scooted backward until there were several feet between them. Finally, he lurched to his feet, his hand curving around his gun in a familiar, comforting way. “I don’t want to have to kill an old lady, so get the fuck out of my way. Make a move toward me, and I’ll shoot you. I should anyway.”
She stood near him, hand trembling as she held the knife, but Sofia didn’t try to lunge for him. Once again, she was the frail old lady she had been at the start, but he wasn’t fooled this time. He kept her in his sights as he went to the closed door of the parlor to call in Bruno.
The big man stared at his bleeding shoulder for a moment, clearly shocked. “What happened, boss?”
“Her resemblance to Stefania must have been greatly exaggerated. Tie up the old bag, and let’s get out of here.”
Bruno took the knife, and she let it go meekly. Sofia shuffled back to her seat and didn’t protest when the large man used the curtain ties to restrain her. She appeared to be deep in thought—or asleep—as they started to leave.
“He’ll have taken what’s his by now, mick. And he’s very good at taking.” She purred the words with a disturbing sexual undertone. “Your little Mia will be split in half and bleeding to death from her cunt by now. You’ll probably never find her, but if you do, it will be nothing more than a body with a gaping hole between the legs.”
Bruno slammed the door behind them to muffle her mad cackling. “She’s nuts, boss.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Psycho runs in this family, Bruno.” Shane jerked a doily off a nearby table and stuffed it into the knife wound. Breath hissed between his teeth as fire flared in the wound at the intrusion.
Bruno looked pale. “You probably need to see a doc, boss. I know you want to find Mia, but you gotta get some stitches before you bleed out.”
He arched a brow. “I don’t think it’s that bad.” As he took a step forward, his head spun, and he had to pause. “Well, maybe a few stitches. We’ll get the limo and go for the doc. He can stitch me up in the back while you drive.”
They stepped out of Sofia’s modest little home on a quiet residential street. He shook his head, amazed that she was so good at covering her true nature. She’d taken him in and he felt like a gigantic ass—with a throbbing stab wound.
His phone rang as they headed toward his sports car. Shane took it from his pocket with his good arm, recognizing Patrick Murphy’s number as he accepted the call. “Hello.”
“I’m at the Kasilli warehouse. You know the one?”
Shane scrunched his brow, thinking. “Where they store the human cargo from Russia before resell?”
“Yeah, usually, but they’re between shipments. I need you here at the meeting.”
“Why?” Shane braced himself to go rogue if Patrick rescinded his unspoken permission to find Mia however was necessary.
“Mia’s on her way here, and things will be decided. Get here as soon as you can.”
Shane stared at phone for a long second after Murphy hung up.
