Page 30 of Savage Enemy

“Christ, Santo! Why didn’t you say something?”

“About what?”

Marco pointed out the growing red stain on his left side.

Santo looked down at his blood.

“Motherfucker. I just got a new piece there.”

Marco rolled his eyes, then shoved me aside to get close to Santo.

“You’ve been shot, but clearly the more pressing concern is the ink you etch into your flesh. Not like maybe your liver or kidney. And just forget about the risk of infection.”

Saul glanced back, already barking orders into his phone, more annoyed than anything else. Then he stabbed a fingerdown on the button to raise the divider between the front and back seats, blocking out the noise and inconvenience of one of his children getting first aid for a gunshot wound.

“Can I help you, Marco?” I asked.

And by help, I meant push hard enough on the wound and make my little brother cry.

Marco lifted Santo’s shirt, revealing the bleeding wound.

Aris’s hand went back to my arm, and I clenched my teeth to stop myself from making a sound.

“You’ve done enough, sister. This is your fault. Our little brother was shot because you went off to play the cheap whore with no concept of family honor or duty?—”

“Aris, shut the fuck up,” Marco snapped.

“It’s herfault he?—”

“I don’t give a fuck. I said shut up.” Marco pointed in my direction. “Valentina, get me the first-aid kit under your seat.”

I blinked. He’d caught me off guard using my real name. I shoved down the confusion in my gut, saving the emotion for later.

“Oh, come on,” Santo whined. “It’s not that big a deal. Not the first time I’ve been shot, and it probably won’t be the last. It’s fine. Barely a scratch.”

“You shut up too,” Marco ordered.

I reached under the seat, pulled out a small leather bag, and unzipped it before holding it close to Marco, so he could grab what he needed.

He started patching up our youngest brother.

Glancing at the door, I wondered if this was the distraction I needed to make a run for it.

But they knew where I lived. They knew about Enzo and Stefano. They knew I’d go back for them before anything else.

No, no more hiding. No more escaping. Accepting my fate to keep my boys alive, that was my purpose now.

Sitting in the back of the limo with my brothers seemed surreal. So much about them had changed in the ten years I’d been gone, but also, so much had stayed the same.

Marco had always been demanding, controlling. As the oldest, he’d also been the one who cared for us. The one who protected us from Saul if we needed it, and he was the only one who cared for us.

Throughout my childhood, Marco had played the role of protector, nurturer, and even parent.

That said, Marco had also perfectly mastered his role in the family, every bit the up-and-coming mafia boss he was supposed to be. He commanded respect and demanded obedience but not as brutally as the old-school bosses.

He didn’t enjoy others’ suffering the way Saul and Aris did.

When Marco had to kill, he didn’t hesitate. He always did what needed to be done, but he wouldn’t take delight in it. Nor did he look for excuses to carry out unnecessary executions.

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