Page 118 of Savage Enemy

I needed the red meat, and the carbs and fat from the fries would help keep me stable, so I scarfed down my food while Tony made calls to round up the men.

It would be a long fucking night.

Finally, we pulled onto the small airstrip, where the plane already waited, and Tony checked his watch for the time.

“The men will be here in less than twenty,” Tony said.

We got out to stretch our legs and fill our lungs with the brisk evening air while waiting for the men to pull up beside us.

Eight men… and one boy climbed out of two SUVs.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“What the fuck is my child doing here?”

“He wouldn’t let us leave without him, sir,” Bruce said.

“He’s nine years old,” I shouted.

Yes, I knew exactly what he’d put them through, and why they gave in. Been there. Done that.

Enzo marched in my direction, the cold breeze lifting his curls, making them appear like a halo.

“You’re taking me.”

“No, I’m not,” I gritted out. “Get in the car with Tony. He’s staying with you.”

The kid stomped his fucking foot.

“I’m going to get my mama.”

Even for my son, my patience had dried up, much like the blood on my hand.

“No, you’re not, and I will not stand here and argue with you about it. Get your ass in the car.”

Enzo folded his arms over his chest and stared me down like a little man ready for a fight.

Perhaps a more experienced father would have handled his outburst with more restraint and grace. And perhaps even I might have dealt with it differently had I not already gone through so much.

I picked up my son, threw him over my shoulder, trapping his legs against my chest, then I tossed him onto the back seat of my car, engaged the child locks, and slammed the door in his face.

Enzo screamed at me and pounded on the windows.

Turning away from the betrayal on his face, I ignored him. He could hate me all he wanted if it kept him alive.

I walked past the men to one of the SUVs and began arming myself for war. I’d already had a Glock on me as well as a few knives, so I grabbed a semi-automatic rifle, night-vision scopes, and a bulletproof vest to wear under my jacket.

“When do we head out?” Bruce asked.

“Now.” Then louder, so everyone could hear me, I said, “I want to warn you all right now. This is going to be the first of what’s probably going to become several bloody battles. This mission is simple. We get into Chicago undetected, invade the Moscatelli mansion, and we get my wife back.

“I don’t give a fuck how many people we have to kill. I don’t care if we must kill cops or innocent bystanders. We’ll do what’s necessary to get Valentina on this plane, in one piece, and in less than an hour. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, boss,” the men responded.

“After this, we’ll have a war to face. Edgardo Lordi is playing a game using us as pawn pieces. I don’t appreciate being manipulated or maimed. We don’t let that shit stand.”

I held up my hand so the men could see my finger.

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