Page 62 of His to Destroy

He picks up on the first ring. “Yeah, boss?”

“Get me eyes on every survivor of the last raid that happened within our syndicate. Apart from Stark.”

“Stark? What’s he got to do with...” Enzo starts to ask, confusion evident in his tone.

“I don’t care if they’re retired, relocated, or rotting in a grave somewhere. If they’re breathing, I want them found.”

He doesn’t ask any more questions. He never does when my voice sounds like this.

“Getting started on it. I’ll have a list within the hour.”

I hang up and lean back in the chair, my mind spinning.

If Stark really did this… if he orchestrated it, lured her into that alley, stripped her of her safety, her dignity, and walked away—

Then everything I thought I knew about loyalty is a fucking lie.

Two hours later, Enzo brings several names.

One stands out.

Carlo Feretti.

He used to be a low-level enforcer. Quiet. Not important enough to kill, not valuable enough to protect. He was there that night—assigned to perimeter security, stationed two streets over.

I recall he was also Stark’s kin and I’d seen them both hanging out outside work a couple of times.

If he was mostly on perimeter security, that explains why Stark was able to know I was out and about every time I didn’t tell him. It’s all making sense now.

“He’s working a dock crew now,” Enzo says. “Cash under the table. Barely keeping afloat.”

I nod grimly. “Bring him.”

A few hours later, Carlo is sitting in front of me, trembling.

He knows better than to lie.

Especially when he sees the look in my eyes.

I don’t bother with pleasantries.

“You were there the night of the raid, true?”

He swallows hard. “Yeah.”

“You covered for Stark. Said he was present during the raid until Father watched the tapes. He told you to lie for him, didn’t he?”

“I don’t want any trouble...”

“Then you better start talking fast,” I snap. “If you remember properly, causing trouble is kind of like a hobby for me.”

He shifts, sweaty hands wringing each other in his lap.

“Yes, Stark asked me to cover for him if he was needed,” Carlo confesses. “But he didn’t know there was going to be a raid...”

“Where did he say he was going to be at for so long that he’d needed you to cover?”

Carlo hesitates and then lets out a sigh as if weighing his options and deciding his life is more important than still covering Stark’s ass years later.

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