Page 67 of Sexting the Don

"Enzo," he acknowledges with a curt nod in return. "Garadino sent me. He heard through the grapevine that you were looking for Jimmy. We don’t tolerate scum who bring family into the fray."

I cross my arms. "Appreciate him sending you. What’s the word?"

Rico’s expression remains unreadable, but there’s a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. "We’ve been keeping tabs on Jimmy for other reasons. He’s been a thorn in our side for quite a while now. When we heard he took it too far this time, Garadino authorized me to assist. He respects the rules that you uphold—you don’t cross the line with families."

Sean, standing just off to my side, interjects, "We have a location on Jimmy, and we’re planning to move in fast."

Rico nods, pulling out a compact notebook from his jacket and flipping it open to reveal a detailed map. "We can provide support. Garadino wants this cleaned up quickly—no mess, no traces. Jimmy’s become a liability."

I study the map, pinpointing the routes and potential obstacles. "We hit him tonight," I state, decision firm. "Rico, your guys can flank the southern entrance. My team will breach from the north."

"Understood," Rico confirms, his tone all business. "Garadino also mentioned he wants Jimmy alive if possible. He has some questions for him and wants to speak to him in person first. Butif it goes sideways, you do what you need to do."

"We’ll keep it clean," I assure him. "Alive if we can manage it."

As Rico steps back to communicate the plan to his team, I turn to Sean. "Get everyone ready. I want eyes on every exit. No chances."

Sean moves immediately to execute the orders. As the room clears and I’m left with my thoughts, the weight of the operation settles in. It’s a tightrope walk between delivering justice and maintaining control, but with Mandy’s safety on the line, failure isn't an option.

In the silence of my study, I sit alone, the dim light casting deep shadows. I lean back, allowing myself a rare moment of introspection amidst the chaos. Thoughts of Mandy invade the quiet—her resilience, her laughter, the intensity of her gaze.

Emotions have begun to cloud my normally clear and strategic thinking. It’s unsettling; I’m used to compartmentalizing, keeping personal feelings separate from business.

But with Mandy, it’s different.

I'm not the type to be easily swayed by emotions. My life has been built on tough decisions and maintaining control.

Yet the thought of her in danger, possibly because of her association with me, stirs a protective fury and fear that I've rarely felt. It’s a vulnerability, a weak spot in my armor I’m not accustomed to.

As I replay moments with her in my mind, I begin thinking about embarking on a different kind of life—one less shadowed by danger—with her by my side. But these thoughts are quickly overshadowed by the harsh reality of our situation.

Her life, potentially compromised by my world, sharpens my focus like a blade.

I push away from the desk, the businessman in me regaining control. Emotions have to be set aside. There’s a mission at hand requiring the ruthless, calculated thinking I’m known for. Distractions, especially emotional ones, are luxuries I cannot afford, not when Mandy’s life hangs in the balance.

I stand, my resolve steeling within me.

It’s time for Jimmy to pay.

Chapter 31

Mandy

Ihold the tire iron like a lifeline, ready to bring it down right on the face of whoever’s the first one to open the trunk.

Never in my life would I have imagined that I’d be thinking about attacking my own father, prick though he may be. But something about knowing there’s a life I’m now responsible for has been unlocked inside of me, a part of me that I didn’t know was there.

The metal’s cool and hard in my hand, and I can’t help but shake a little bit, a combination of nerves and fear taking over.

The car slowly comes to a halt, gravel grinding under the tires. My heart’s beating so hard, pounding furiously in my ears.

Free. I need to get free.

I hear the doors open and shut, then the sound of gravel crunching under boots. Jimmy’s sniveling voice says something I can’t quite make out, and then there comes a response from the other goon. I squeeze the tire iron so hard that I begin to wonder if I’m about to tap into enough mama bear strength to bend the damn thing in half.

The footsteps come to a halt right outside the trunk. I hear laughter, then some more talking.

The lid opens.

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