Page 16 of Wicked Rivals

“Enzo,” I whispered, “as quietly as possible, I want you to get upstairs and lock the apartment door behind you.”

“No,” he snapped.

I almost looked away from the front door to double check if my son was still there…

Because that word came out of his mouth not in the voice of my sweet, innocent boy but as the voice of a stern, confident man, or at least the beginnings of the man he would become.

Before I could say anything else, Enzo stepped in front of me and faced the door like he meant to be my shield.

“Enzo, get upstairs now,” I said through my clenched teeth.

“No. I'm not leaving you, Mama.”

Then the door creaked open, and both men came inside.

The first thing I noticed about them? The telling bulges under their jackets. These men were armed.

And my gun was still in my purse.

In the kitchen.

I grabbed Enzo’s arm and pushed him behind me, putting myself between the intruders and my child, and plastered on the fake customer service smile I used for work.

“I'm sorry, gentlemen. We’re closed. There’s a diner about two blocks down the street. The coffee is decent?—”

“Are you Valerie Salera?” the bald one interjected.

I shut my mouth and looked back and forth between them. After a minute of silence, I found my voice again.

“Yes, I am. But like I said, we’re closed for the night. So I need you to leave now or I’ll have to call the police.”

My voice didn’t waver, not like my traitorous heartbeat.

Enzo tried to come back around me, and I dug my nails into his arm. I wouldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let my baby stand between me and these fucking men.

“Calling the cops would be very unwise,” Man Bun said.

Then he spoke into his phone.

“All clear, boss. Come on in. She’s here.”

CHAPTER 4

STEFANO

I didn’t want children. Didn’t want to be responsible for another generation of death and corruption. Didn’t want to create more pain for yet another Vignali.

But in my gut, I knew Valerie Salera's boy was mine.

And no one took what belonged to me.

Val had kept my son from me, and now there she sat, holding him in her arms, reading bedtime stories in front of the window, pretending like the boy didn’t have a father.

I inhaled through my nose and tightened my abs to control the conflicting emotions raging inside me.

She had taken the dream I once had, living it happily without me as if I never existed.

And I fucking hated her for it.

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