Page 21 of Savage Enemy

She’d said men like her son underestimated women. They didn’t consider us to be capable humans. We were pretty possessions to them, born to be owned and used for bargaining.

Too emotional to be their equals.

With no options left, I took my nonna’s words at face value, hoping this time it didn’t feel like a manipulation to Stefano.

In a moment of complete, shameless desperation, I chose to play that role for Saul Moscatelli.

I drew images of Enzo to the forefront of my mind, forcing myself to focus on him lying helplessly upstairs without me or his father, unmoving, only his small chest rising and falling.

Tears spilled down my cheeks, and pain rolled through me. I hunched over, clutching at my stomach, releasing all my fear and the pain in gushing sobs. Those emotions always roiled just beneath the surface anyway, so I did what I’d never done before.

I let all that shit come out.

Stefano lurched forward and grabbed my arms with utter confusion written all over his face. He knew it wasn’t like me. I didn’t get messy that way. I didn’t let my emotions define me or my actions or bare my weaknesses.

I literally threw myself at him, heaving with sobs, my body shuddering, and held on to him with everything I had left.

“It’ll be okay, Angel,” he said. “You’re mine, not his, mine. I’ll fix this, I promise.”

Taking in all of him, inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth, hearing his soft words, I tried to memorize everything about him. Everything from how the luxurious robe hugged his strong arms and torso to the spiciness of his cologne.

I wanted to remember this moment in his arms for however long I might live. I wanted to dig up this feeling from my soul whenever I made my mental escapes during whatever I had to endure in my unknown future.

This, with Stefano, and cuddling with Enzo on the massive leather couch at the café while reading bedtime stories together.

The memories would be the glue holding the pieces of my sanity together and the will I needed to survive another day. My family could take me from my boys, but they couldn’t take away my memories of them.

I wiped my nose on Stefano’s shoulder.

“Ace,” I whispered. “Hear me, not the words I have to say. I have to leave to keep you and Enzo alive. Whatever happens, I will always love you both.”

I straightened my back and raised my voice for Saul to hear.

“I want to go. It’s a fair trade, Stefano. And I don’t want you to come after me. Stay in New York and raise our son.”

Stefano tightened his embrace, shaking his head.

“I’m not letting you go.”

I nodded. “Yes, you have to let me. I’ve decided. I’m going.”

Angry again—at me, at my family—Stefano shook me.

“You’re not going anywhere. Do you hear me?”

Aris grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me back.

“Yeah, she is. This brazen whore is coming with us.”

I cried out, releasing Stefano’s arms to clutch my scalp and dull the pain.

Stefano raised his gun, leveling it at Aris’s head.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” he snarled.

Santo crept up from behind and pressed the barrel of his weapon to the back of Stefano’s head.

“I don’t think you’re the one in charge here, Vignali.”

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