Page 135 of Savage Enemy

“I never disrespected you. I didn’t know you. No one in New York gives a fuck what happens in Chicago. Not many of our families even know who the Chicago families are anymore. I didn’t know because I didn’t fucking care.

“Valerie—Valentina became mine the moment she had my son. She might not have understood that at the time, but it doesn’t matter. She belongs to me, and her father’s name makes no difference in the matter.”

I caught her stare. No disagreement in her eyes. Only fire.

I toed a thin line with my words, but I had to keep spouting shit at Moscatelli to keep his finger off the trigger and buy us more time until my soldiers arrived.

“Big words from a man with no family to back him up. Are you aware of the situation you’re in right now, boy?”

I nodded, my subdued rage fucking fuming.

“The situation? You mean watching a sadistic motherfucker with mommy issues hold a gun to my woman’s head? Or are you referring to the fat, arrogant prick pushing one into my back, because somebody hurt his feelings?

“You’ve overestimated your importance, Moscatelli, and because shit didn’t go the way you wanted it to, you’re throwing a tantrum like a child. It’s no wonder your son is a psychopath who belongs in a mental institution.”

Val’s expression hardened. Her chest pumped faster.

“No, he doesn’t,” she said. “He belongs in the ground.”

Aris snorted and rolled his eyes once again.

“Shut up. No one cares what a stupid cunt thinks.”

I glared at Aris, done. So fucking done.

“Saul, are you really ignorant enough to let this deranged animal roam the streets? Tell me, how many millions have you paid out in hush money to keep him out of prison?”

If Moscatelli planned to shoot me, he would have done it already. It seemed he wanted to hear himself talk more than he wanted me dead.

Men like him, who inflated their importance, preferred the sound of their voice to anything else. If I gave him something to talk about, he would do it for hours.

Thing was, I’d had enough.

I wanted this night over. I wanted Val in my arms where she belonged, then on board my borrowed plane. She and I needed to have a long talk, but not until I made sure she was all right.

She didn’t look all right.

He’d beaten her severely again.

After she healed, no more fucking surprises. If I had to lock her up, I would do it. Hell, I would put a fucking GPS chip in her neck to keep her from vanishing again.

Never again would she get away from me. Not ever.

The time had come to lay all our cards on the table. My cards and hers, and we would figure it out.

“What do you think, Father?” Aris asked. “Which one should we kill first? On one hand, if we kill her first, Stefano will die knowing he failed. He’ll get to watch the light fade from her eyes and know it was his fault. But if we kill him first, then she’ll know her son will be alone.”

Aris leaned in to whisper in her ear but spoke loud enough for us all to hear him.

“At least until I take that trip to visit my nephew. I could kill him, or I could make him one of us.”

The blood drained from Val’s face, the same way it had when she’d heard Marco’s voice in our home.

“You wouldn’t,” she said, her voice shaking.

Aris tilted his head. “You know I would.”

If he wasn’t still hiding behind Val, I would’ve taken my shot right then, even if Moscatelli killed me afterward.

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