Page 34 of Savage Enemy

“We’ll use that leverage to put you back in line.”

“I’ll do what you say, Marco. Thank you for being honest.”

A tear fell onto my cheek. I didn’t bother wiping it away.

Then Marco leaned in and whispered close to my ear.

“You should have kept your boy away from Vignali—and stayed quiet at the café. Father never would’ve found you.”

CHAPTER 7

STEFANO

Hours after Moscatelli had taken my fiancée, I paced my office like a caged animal who couldn’t find its way out—seething, worrying, trying to make sense of it all. But more than anything, I was angry as fuck.

She belonged to me.

She belonged to our son.

She belonged in our home… and in my bed.

It didn’t matter to me or Enzo how many secrets she kept from us or that she came into the world a Moscatelli. I didn’t even care that she’d given my son a fake name.

They were both Vignali now.

Why did her father wait so long to come for her?

I raked my hair back and looked down at Enzo.

“Back on the couch, son. Take it easy. You’ve been hit on the head.”

Tony knocked on my office door, waited a beat, then came in and stood in his usual spot in front of my desk.

“Got some intel back on the Moscatelli family. The old man is fourth-gen Italian. Family goes way back, like to the Capone era. His great-grandfather ran everything in Chicago, north of theriver. Seems old Saul lost some footing when he took over. Still, he runs everything from Streeterville up to Old Town.”

I stopped walking. Fuck. I’d focused my energy on the East Coast. Considering my original plan was to blow up shit, the Midwest syndicates never hit my radar.

“That doesn’t mean anything to me, Tony. I don’t know the Chicago territories or those families.”

My leather chair creaked as I sat down, sparking memories of Val naked on the desktop.

I imagined her there before me, head hanging over the edge, breasts heaving, manicured nails spreading her thighs apart to offer me what was mine, her sweet-tasting wet pussy.

Tony ruined my fantasy with his big mouth.

“North Chicago. Still south of Lincoln Park, but mostly along the coast. Looks like Moscatelli runs a few legitimate real estate companies. Otherwise, he covers as a shipping company moving supplies and inventory from manufacturers across the Midwest to local businesses.”

I nodded, mostly to purge the images of Val.

“What else do you have?”

“The little thug was right—your girl’s name is Valentina Moscatelli. She’s the family’s only daughter, contracted to marry into the Russians.”

“Why the fuck would an old-school mobster like Moscatelli sell his daughter to the Russians? We don’t do business with the Russians.”

“Hard to say, boss. But my guess is, the deal would’ve helped him expand without breaking treaties. Could’ve scaled his shipping business tenfold with a marriage like that, running his weapons and drugs through Canada to Europe and back without much trouble.”

From a business standpoint, Tony’s logic made sense. After nine-eleven, using ships and trains had become the most reliableway to transport arms and narcotics. TSA made international trafficking a huge pain in the ass. Border Patrol could be bribed more easily now.

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