Page 402 of Savage Bosses

"Patrizio Cattaneo, is that you!" the old man exclaimed, looking surprised as Patrick approached him. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Ah, Signor Grecco," Patrick replied, his voice dripping with false warmth. "We’re just here for a small reunion dinner. It’s rare that I get to come home to visit."

The old Grecco nodded, staring around him, gaze suspicious. “Where’s your older brother?”

“He didn’t come home this time. I hope to bring him home with me when I visit again in a few months.”

“A few months,” Grecco repeated, nodding. “Maybe when he visits, I’ll meet with him…”

“You won’t be meeting with my brother or anyone else,” Patrick drawled.

Grecco’s eyes widened. Bryceson’s breath caught in his throat as he watched his father pull out a gun and shoot the elder Grecco without a moment's hesitation. It happened so fast, Bryce didn’t have time to react or to try and stop his father. Chaos erupted, and instinctively, Bryceson dove behind a nearby pillar, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Get them!" someone shouted, and bullets began flying in every direction.

Amidst the chaos, Bryceson could make out the panicked screams of the restaurant patrons scrambling for cover. A little girl stood in the middle of the room, crying. Where the hell were her parents? A bullet zipped past the kid.Fuck this.He had to get her out of harm’s way. Bryce stood up.

"Get down!" Marlo yelled, pushing Bryceson to the ground as a bullet whizzed past his ear.

He felt the burning hot sting of it against his flesh. His gaze rose to the girl. A large man was grabbing her up and running with her. She was okay.Good. Grecco’s men had their guns trained on his father.

His father was hiding behind a white column. Bullets riddled the column, sending chunks of it flying. Bryce’s heart raced as he realized he had no choice but to fight to protect not only himself but also his father.

"This was not the fucking plan,” Marlo yelled. “Here, take this!"

Marlo thrust a gun into Bryceson's hand, and despite his reluctance, he knew he had no other option. After checking the clip, he fired back at their attackers, gripping the weapon tightly as he tried to block out the sound of his own conscience screaming in protest. His conscience sounded a lot like Tatianna Dupree.

If she could see him now, he knew he’d only see fear and disappointment in her eyes. Shoving that thought and image aside, he continued firing, hating that he was fighting to save the man whom he despised most in this world. But who he also loved more than he cared to admit to. Bryce landed a headshot on the final goon who was shooting at his father.

The man’s body slumped to the ground. His dad turned to look at him. A huge smile spread across his father’s face. There was pride in his dad’s eyes.Killing. Killing was the answer. Killing was the only way to get his father to stare at him that way, to smile at him that way. A genuine smile. Bryceson swallowed, hating himself and his father, but knowing that he’d kill again to keep that look in his father’s eyes.

"Let's go!" Patrick shouted, and they made a mad dash for the exit. But as they burst through the door, they were met by more Grecco guards.

"Get in the car!" Patrick ordered, scrambling to the vehicle that screeched to a halt in front of them.

The door swung open, and Bryce recognized his cousin, Ivan. Bryceson shoved his father into the car first, but before he could follow, a sharp pain exploded in his leg, and he crumpled to the ground.Fuck!He'd been shot. More bullets pinged against the car, sparking around him.

"Bryce! Don’t drive off yet. Stop!" Patrick screamed, but it was too late.

The car sped off, leaving Bryceson at the mercy of the Grecco family. They descended on him like vultures, beating him, kicking him until all he saw was red. Blood dripped down his head and face, blurring his vision.

As the world around him began to fade, the last thing on his mind was Tatianna's face, her gentle smile a stark contrast to the brutal reality that had ensnared him. Her smile slowly turned to a frown. And then there was only darkness. Bryceson passed out.

He didn’t know how long he had been out for. What he did know was that his head throbbed fiercely as he slowly came back to consciousness, the taste of blood and bitterness filling his mouth.

His vision was blurry, but it gradually cleared to reveal an abandoned warehouse filled with rusted machinery and a damp, musty smell that let him know this place hadn’t been aired out in years. He tried to move, only to find himself bound tightly to a chair, his leg throbbing where he had been shot.

"Look who decided to wake up," sneered Richie Grecco, stepping into Bryceson's line of vision.

Marlo had shown Bryce a picture of the Grecco family when they’d been plotting the best way to take them out. At the restaurant, they were supposed to get a good look at the Grecco security and at how many men were always with the elder Grecco.

However, Bryce’s father had disregarded their plans and did his own thing. Now, Bryce was face to face with the deceased Grecco’s grandson. The hatred in Ritchie's eyes was intense. Bryceson knew that this man would show him no mercy.

"Your father will pay for what he did," Richie spat, pacing around the room.

“Where am I?” Bryce groaned, not expecting an answer.

"Let me tell you something, Cattaneo punk. You're just like your father, and you'll pay for his sins."

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