Page 140 of Savage Enemy

Would Marco disown me?

Would he honor the Moscatelli deal with the Russians?

Did any of it even fucking matter?

No. It totally didn’t matter.

Stefano would see that I went home with him to our son, and without a doubt, he would kill Marco to do it if necessary.

I wanted my son to know his uncles, the men I’d loved my entire life, the only family I had left. Wait—I was a Vignali now. Stefano had said so himself. And I wanted my husband and my brother to unite our families amicably through our marriage.

As the morphine hit my system, nausea struck me, and I covered my mouth with both hands.

My head spun faster. My pulse pounded harder.

Dr. De Rosa handed me a vomit tray, then reached into her medical bag for a syringe and vial. She injected the liquid directly into my vein.

“It’s to be expected. This will help ease the nausea.”

Santo came into the room, his expression empty, a glass of water in one hand, a shot of whiskey in the other.

“Here, sister. I wasn’t sure which one you needed most.”

The doctor squinted and pushed her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose.

“No alcohol, please. Your sister can sip on the water.” She turned back to me. “Three fractures, no organ damage. Use ice. Don’t hold your breath, although breathing will hurt for a while, kiddo. Follow up with your regular doctor right away. We’ll want you to start breathing exercises immediately.”

I nodded and accepted the water from Santo. My stomach rebelled at the thought of drinking it. I sipped anyway, mostly just wetting my dry mouth and lips, while Santo sat on the couch next to me and shot the whiskey himself.

“What happens next, Santo?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m assuming Marco’s taking over?”

My little brother nodded. “Yeah. He’s with Stefano. They’re talking to the men and seeing to the injuries.”

“Will Marco let the Russians take me?”

Santo shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his inked neck before making eye contact with me.

“No, he won’t. He’s making a deal with Vignali as we sit here now. I don’t know the specifics, but we’ll handle the fine print later. You’ll go home with your man tonight.”

I blinked at him slowly, like in a dream. “Why?”

“Why what?” Santo asked.

“Why did Marco kill our father?”

Santo sighed. “I don’t know if I should tell you this, so keep it to yourself, but Marco had it planned for quite some time. Father’s actions were becoming reckless.

“Marco didn’t like the direction the old man was taking the family. The bad business deals, the old-school cruelty, the Russians. Marco has his eyes set on the future, and Father just… didn’t care.”

“So this was a business decision?”

“Yes—I mean, no. Marco was planning to make a move in two years. He wanted more influence and other arrangements made first, but we couldn’t just stand by and let Father destroy you or Klimov kill you. The deal was shit anyway, so Marco pulled the trigger early.”

“Pun intended,” he added with a snort.

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