Page 66 of His Ruthless Obsession

My phone vibrates — a text from Marco.

Back's clear. Ready when you are.

I gesture to our guys, watching them take position. The weight of my gun is familiar against my palm, but tonight it's just insurance. Sometimes the mere suggestion of violence carries more weight than the act itself.

"On my mark," I breathe into my earpiece. The warehouse door beckons, and behind it, our message waiting to be delivered. Time to remind the Mantiones why the Buetis aren't to be fucked with.

I give the signal and we surge forward. The door splinters under Tony's boot. Gunfire erupts, muzzle flashes strobing through clouds of dust and debris. The Mantione crew scrambles for cover, but we've got them boxed in.

"Drop your fucking weapons," I command, my voice cutting through the chaos. Some comply immediately — street soldiers who know when they're outmatched. Others need more convincing.

Marco takes down a stubborn one trying to play hero, driving him face-first into a stack of crates. Blood sprays across wooden slats. Another rushes me with a knife. Amateur. I sidestep, grab his wrist, and slam my elbow into his temple. He crumples.

"Clear the back rooms," I order, stepping over an unconscious body. The warehouse echoes with shouts and the sound of fists meeting flesh.

Movement catches my eye — a figure darting between shadows toward a side exit. Young, expensive clothes, moving like he's been trained to blend into the shadows his whole life. The dim light catches his face and recognition clicks.

"Well, well. Luca Mantione."

He freezes, hand on the door. In the poor light, I watch as he rolls his shoulders back, his face melting into a neutral mask that he's perfected. Daddy's golden boy, caught where he shouldn't be.

"Nerio." He answers like we're old acquaintances. "Didn't expect to see you here."

His nonchalant rubs me the wrong way. "No? I expect not when you were planning an attack against me." I advance slowly, watching his moves. He's young but was raised in the family. I'm not stupid enough to discount that. "Wonder how the old man would feel about that."

He levels me with that bored stare of his, and I swear, sometimes I think the guy is a fucking psychopath. And that is coming from me. "Like it fucking matters."

"Oh?" Not quite the response I expected, though it has been years since I've seen Luca with his father, being pushed around by the older Mantione. "So you don't think your father cares what you're doing with his resources?"

Marco appears at my shoulder, gun trained on Luca. The kid's eyes dart between us, calculating odds he won't like.

"Should we take him?" Marco asks. Luca doesn't even react to the words, not except for the slight shift in his stance like he's thinking about fighting us.

But then Ray appears, and I give Marco a nod. "Secure him."

Marco and Ray move in, zip-ties appearing. Luca tries to jerk away but Ray catches him with a precise strike to the back of his knee. He goes down hard.

"You're making a mistake," Luca says awfully calmly as they bind his wrists. "My father-"

"Your father doesn't know you're here." I crouch to his level, studying the neutral set of his features. Nothing gives away what he's thinking. "Which means you've been running your own little operation without permission. That's going to be an interesting conversation."

Tony appears in the doorway. "Building's clear, boss. Found their ledgers - looks like junior here's been skimming."

"I want everything documented." I straighten, addressing our crew. "Photos, paperwork, security footage if they have it. Package it all up nice for Don Mantione."

"What about the others?" Marco jerks his head toward the Mantione soldiers scattered across the floor.

"Let a few crawl back to their don. They can deliver the first part of our message." I turn to Luca, who's been watching me with a blank stare. "You'll be delivering the second part personally."

"Listen," Luca tries again. "When it comes to my father?—"

"Save it." I check my watch. "Load him in the BMW. And make sure our friend here is comfortable — we wouldn't want Don Mantione thinking we don't know how to treat family."

Ray and Marco haul Luca to his feet. He's surprisingly nimble on his feet as he gains his balance quickly, looking far too in control.

Maybe I've underestimated the young Mantione for too long.

"Get this cleaned this up," I order to the others. "I want no trace we were here except what I choose to leave behind."

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