Page 100 of Savage Enemy

I hated myself right then, too, enough for the both of us.

“If you need to hate me, that’s okay. It won’t change anything. You’re still going to stay here until I walk back into this house with your mother.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Enzo turned on his heel and stomped up to his room.

Christ. If I didn’t get her back, this kid might actually try to kill me in my sleep. What was the appropriate punishment for attempted patricide anyway? For how long did I ground him? How many chores did I pile onto a list at once?

I needed Val for this. For everything. For him, and for me.

Tony crossed the foyer and picked up Enzo’s knife, folded the blade, and handed it to me.

“Everything okay, Stef?”

I slid the knife into my pocket.

“No, not even a little, but thanks for waiting until that ran its course.”

“Not a problem,” he said with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

I wished it were that easy.

“The blueprints of the Moscatelli house are in your office.”

“Good. I’ll shower, then we’ll get to work.”

I headed for the stairs.

“But there’s something else,” he said.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I stopped and turned. “What?”

“This was just dropped off.”

He handed me a red envelope that meant only one thing—the Commission had summoned me at the worst time possible.

Fuck my life.

The envelope looked legit, the wax seal still intact.

Only the Commission would send its correspondence in something so fucking gaudy. For Christ’s sake, I wished they would join this century and send a fucking text. No, but that would have been less dramatic and less of a waste of time.

I popped the seal and removed the heavy cardstock inside. At least the script wasn’t in gold this time. It was blood red.

Stefano Vignali,

The Commission demands your presence today at 5:00 p.m. to answer for your crimes against the council. Failure to appear and plead your case will result in an immediate bounty placed on your head and the head of your immediate heir.

Don Edgardo Lordi, Council CEO

I shoved the note back at Tony and paced at the base of the stairs, waiting for him to read it.

“Fucking assholes.”

“What should we do, boss?”

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