The Don’s Soulmate

22. Ettore

Chapter 22

Ettore

For the first few nights after I left her by the side of the road, I licked my wounds in the privacy of my bedroom. I never thought she’d choose that option, especially considering the risk of being abandoned in the middle of nowhere.

Yet, she did.

I don’t know which hurt more: knowing I fought to save her from a man she keeps returning to, or that she chose him over me.

As nights turned into weeks, I stopped seeing her around town. Unable to confess what happened, I had no way to know if she was safe. Did she get home alright? If she did, was she safe?

There was only one way to know. I had to send someone who could make discreet inquiries to find the answers we so needed.

My men have been watching the house for days, reporting her brother and father coming and going with their guards. But not her. Never her. As if they've locked her away and thrown out the key.

The last time I saw Carlotta, desire burned in those emerald eyes. Her lips parted with a soft gasp, begging me to claim them. I gave her everything she wanted and more, worshiping her body unlike any man ever has or could.

I can't tear my eyes away from the screen, my frustration mounting as I obsessively check the surveillance footage from the cameras outside Carlotta's mansion. My heart aches to catch even a glimpse of her, but there's no sign of her. It feels like a cruel joke – she's so close, yet completely out of reach.

She has to be in there. From the intel I’ve received, her car and security detail always remain in the D’Amici compound.

Restless heat builds in my veins, fueled by thoughts of Carlotta and our last encounter. The memory of her soft cries and trembling limbs under me haunts my waking hours, tormenting me with what can never be.

I pound a fist into the wall, cracking plaster and skin. Blood drips onto the floor, droplets of crimson joining the stain I've already left.

Rage blazes through me. How dare they keep her locked up, isolating her like some helpless lamb for the slaughter. She’s a goddamn adult woman and is being treated like nothing but a possession.

"Damn it," I mutter under my breath, clenching my bleeding fists in anger. The tension knots in my stomach, coiling tighter and tighter with each passing day.

My attention shifts to Angelo and Salvatore as they exit the mansion, flanked by their security guards. They're leaving again, just like clockwork. It's infuriating to see them walk free while Carlotta remains captive inside that wretched place.

"Those bastards," I hiss through gritted teeth. "I'll make them pay for what they've done."

The next morning, footage flickers on the screen, and my heart thunders like a thousand horses on the way to battle as I catch sight of Ugo Caputo strolling into the D’Amici mansion like he owns the place. His arrogant swagger sets my teeth on edge. How dare her brother and father allow him in there?

Suddenly, it becomes clear. They’re holding her prisoner, to ensure that this marriage goes through. The bastard has no right to put his filthy hands on her, not after how I’ve seen him do it before.

"Enough!" I roar, slamming my fist down on the table. The impact sends the surveillance equipment rattling, and I shoot to my feet, my entire body vibrating with pent-up fury.

I have to do something.

I storm out of the room. Carlotta is in danger, and I refuse to stand idly by any longer. Bursting into the breakfast room, I'm greeted by the startled faces of my father and brother.

"Father, I need an army," I demand without preamble, my voice dripping with venom. "I want to raid Carlotta's house and rescue her. Now."

My younger brother Davide stands, eyes blazing with fury to match my own. "Have you lost your mind? We can't stand for this. You'll start a war over a woman."

I slam him against the wall, grip tightening around his throat. “Stai lontano dal mio cammino, oppure te ne pentirai.” - Stay out of my way, or you'll regret it.

“Ettore!” My father warns gently, standing to his own feet. I look over at him, grounded by his voice.

"Cosa sei disposto a sacrificare per lei, Ettore?" - What are you willing to sacrifice for her, Ettore? he says, shaking his head with a hint of sadness. “Is she worth the cost of your brother? Your family? A war?”

Immediately, I let Davide go. He stumbles back, coughing and scratching the skin where I held him back. I don’t apologize, but we’ve been brothers who fight as hard as we love and I’m certain that over the past thirty-five years of his existence, he’s come to learn I won’t ever cause him any real harm.

My father sits back down, clearly taken aback by my sudden outburst. But behind the shock, I see something else – a flicker of understanding.

"Listen, Ettore," he begins cautiously, his voice calm and measured. "I understand your concern for Carlotta, but we need to think this through. A full-scale raid could have serious consequences."

"Consequences?" I spit out the word as if it were poison. "What about the consequences of doing nothing? Of letting Ugo Caputo kill an innocent girl?"

"Father is right," my brother chimes in, his tone icy. "We can't just storm in there with our guns blazing. We have no right to what that family decides to do with itself. With her."

“I don’t care about the D’Amicis!” I roar at them. “If you won’t give me an army, I’ll take out my own, damn it.”

"Are you out of your goddamn mind, Ettore?" Davide bellows and storms off, unable to comprehend the reckless plan I'm proposing.

Father's eyes lock onto mine, his voice firm yet controlled. "Ettore, you are not thinking clearly. Your exceptional abilities make you invaluable to this family – we cannot afford to put you at risk."

"Exceptional abilities?" I scoff. "What good are they if I can't even save a person who deserves to be saved?"

"Your care for her is admirable," father admits, placing a calming hand on my shoulder. "But we must be careful in our approach. We cannot save her by putting ourselves – and her – in danger."

I grind my teeth, frustration coursing through me like molten lava. The image of Carlotta, held captive and under Ugo's control, haunts me. I need to feel her in my arms, to taste her lips and possess her body in a way that only I can.

I need to make sure she lives.

"Every second we waste..." I trail off, not knowing what to say. My thoughts turn dark and desperate, the carnal desire for Carlotta merging with the primal need to keep her safe.

My father takes a deep breath, his gaze locked on mine. I can see the concern etched in the lines of his face as he prepares to speak. "Ettore, my son, you must understand that your safety is paramount. You are the most powerful Amico, not just in our family but in all of Italy. Your abilities, your strength... they keep us alive; they keep us in control."

He pauses, looking me directly in the eyes. "If something were to happen to you, it would be disastrous for our entire organization. The other families would sense weakness and strike. You know this. We cannot afford such a risk."

As he talks, I feel the scars on my knuckles press into my palm. His words ring true, but my determination to save Carlotta remains unwavering. "And what of Carlotta?" I ask, my voice tight. "I cannot stand idly by while she suffers at the hands of Ugo Caputo."

"Believe me, Ettore, I understand your need for justice," father says softly. "But we cannot act rashly or out of anger. Since you were a child, I watched you do things, perform acts so impossible. I believed you to be a gift from the gods, my son. Don’t you see?” he whispers.

“You were born with a great and terrible gift. Your wisdom from all those lives you lived will be all for nothing should something happen to you. But, if you stay in power, lead this family someday as I so hope you will, you’d be able to aid a million Carlottas. I can’t lose you, son. Not now. The D’Amicis will not forget this slight if we go in weapons drawn.”

“That’s not the point, father,” I growl. “I’m powerful enough to take them all.”

My father clenches his jaw, weighing his words carefully. "Ettore, you are the most powerful Amico to exist, yet you can't save everyone. You must learn to choose your battles wisely. Your powers are unique, but you would be a fool to risk them all for one woman. If the roles were different, would she have done the same for you?”

I stand there, stunned. Suddenly, the last memory of her rushes back. She chose to return to him. She refused to let me fight for her.

She refused to fight for herself.

She’s never have come after me.

“Please, son,” my father begs, looking almost afraid of me. “Let this go.”

“Alright, father,” I say, after a moment’s silence.

I leave and the heavy door to the breakfast room closes behind me with a resounding thud.

"Damn it," I mutter under my breath, running a hand through my hair in frustration. My mind races with conflicting thoughts about Carlotta's choices – why did she willingly go back to that house, surrounded by wolves? And yet, despite her apparent compliance, I can't shake the feeling that something is off, that she is in danger.

I might not be going in guns blazing, but that doesn’t mean I can forget about her. For now, I call Fio and tell him to maintain round-the-clock surveillance on her house.