“Steven,” I whisper, my hand immediately going to my mouth. Because even though his head is covered in some kind of potato sack, I know that’s him being hauled in with his hands tied behind his back, stumbling over the shoes I bought him for Christmas.
Christian is instantly in action, stepping in front of me, throwing out an arm to block me – as if Steven, held up as he his by two men with hands beneath his armpits, is going to grab me.
“What the f**k is this!?” Christian booms out, turning his head to glare daggers at his father.
Don Romano just grins, shrugging as he slips his hands casually into his pockets. “Like I said,” he murmurs. “Seeing where her loyalties really lie.”
“Frank!” Christian snaps, and Frankie is behind me in a flash, firmly taking my arms in his hands and pull
