Page 18 of Savage Enemy

Aris studied me, then flicked his gaze over at our father, who didn’t offer a visible reaction.

My brother shrugged. “Fine. The bastard can live for now.”

He started to put his gun away, but must have had a second thought, because he whipped the butt of his weapon down against the side of Enzo’s head with a vicious crack.

My son crumpled to the floor.

I screamed, diving to the floor for my baby.

My father grabbed my arm and yanked me away before slamming my head against the wall, blurring my vision.

Gunshots fired downstairs.

I slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. I stared at Enzo, watching his little chest rise and fall.

How would I get him out of here alive?

My father hauled me up from the floor.

“Leave the bastard,” he growled. “He’s not your concern anymore. Now let’s go. Be sure to tell his father on the way out not to come after you. You’ll get into the car and behave yourself. If you do not, I’ll send Aris back for the boy.”

He had me with that, and he knew it.

I cast my gaze to the floor and let him guide me out of the room and down Stefano’s grand staircase.

On the way down, the nauseating mix of overheated metal, gun smoke, and blood overwhelmed my senses.

I didn’t dare risk looking at the carnage strewn across the once pristine floors. I didn’t want to see Stefano lying on the cold marble in a pool of his own blood.

I’d brought death upon this house. My choices had led to this moment, with my son upstairs, unconscious, and his father likely dead. All for nothing.

If only I had told Stefano the truth from the very beginning. Maybe none of this would have ever played out. But I hadn’t, so it all came full circle to slap me in the face…

Me in my father’s possession again, about to be sold by one monster to another. My baby lost to me. Stefano lost.

My brother Marco’s voice rang out in anger and startled me.

Stefano yelled something back at him, and a fleeting sense of relief washed over me. A sliver of hope. Stefano was still alive.

He would find Enzo upstairs and protect him.

Marco and Stefano argued. Santo interjected, insisting I was absolutely his sister, Valentina Moscatelli, not Valerie Salera.

My father pushed me down the stairs in front of him.

“Let her go,” Stefano snarled.

With my eyes still downcast, I stared at the destruction of his beautiful house. Plaster, shards of glass, splinters of wood, and splattered blood all over the floor.

Stefano made a move in my direction.

Aris pushed the barrel of his gun against the back of my head, forcing my neck forward.

“She comes with us, motherfucker, or she goes with God.”

“She’s mine by code,” Stefano said. “She’s the mother of my son and my wife in a matter of hours. I’ve already had her, and our engagement has been announced.”

“Fuck your code,” Aris spat.

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