Page 121 of Savage Enemy

God, his expression showed such enthusiasm, like it actually was good news, and he’d struck the deal of the century.

Pain slashed through my chest. I swallowed a thick lump of emotion and bid the tears not to fall as the old fucking monster paced the room and mumbled to himself.

“Of course, I’m not getting as much as I should. The pakhan’s second son refused you. Something about his Russian wife providing worthy sons in due time, so he’ll use you as a reward for his men. And you’d better last the year, so I get more out of the time and money I’ve spent raising you.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I knew better. It would result in me on the floor again. But the obnoxious idea that he’d spent any time raising me made it difficult to hold back.

My nonna and older brother raised me.

The only reason Saul even allowed me to attend school was because Marco convinced Saul that education made for better wives.

Continuing his self-directed conversation, Saul wandered out. No doubt to celebrate with the expensive bourbon on his desk while deciding how to spend his new windfall.

I sat on the bed and took in a long, deep breath.

This was it. Fate had caught up to me.

I had always believed in fate.

Once upon a time, I believed fate brought Stefano to me, because he needed a mafia princess, and I needed a strong man who wouldn’t beat me.

But I’d been wrong.

My fate had always been to serve a monster.

As I thought about it, I realized my once upon a time theory hadn’t really been too far off the mark. Stefano could technically be considered a monster just as well.

But fuck fate. I couldn’t control what she had in store—only my reaction to whatever situation enslaved me.

With my legs tucked under me, I stared outside at what used to be a fabulous view of the Chicago skyline. A brick wall now blocked much of it. It was such a shame.

The view didn’t matter anyway.

Coming up with something to help me survive, maybe even to help me see my son again someday, that mattered.

The way I saw it, I had three options: run and risk being caught and killed for it, fight and risk being killed for it, or lie down and accept my fate.

If fate meant for me to die, though, and I chose to accept her option, I would definitely find a better way to go.

I would take away their satisfaction.

I closed my eyes to think through the different scenarios and outcomes to make sure I took the path with the best advantage for my son and the least amount of impact on him.

If I ran away again, my chances of making it out of the city were slim to none. But for argument’s sake, if I did get out of Chicago, where the hell would I go?

I had no money, no clothes, not even a pair of shoes.

Maybe sneaking downstairs into Aris’s room—to steal his shoes and a coat, as terrifying as that would be—might work.

For money, I could steal Marco’s cash and credit cards.

The idea of stealing from him didn’t sit well in my stomach. I would leave an apology note asking him to contact Stefano for reimbursement. Stefano had confiscated all my money anyway.

Then just maybe I would find myself in the wind, but still with no idea where to go or for how long.

Saul and my brothers would look for me. Worse, they might encourage the Russians to hunt me as well.

One thing I knew for sure? Aris would go after Enzo.

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