Chapter 21 Enzo
My morning plan, as usual, was to head to my office and go over the day's events in peace while enjoying a cup of coffee. However, today, as I step inside what is supposed to be my quiet morning ritual, two people are there to disrupt everything.
The moment I see Gio's face, I know this isn't going to be pleasant. His jaw is clenched, a vein pulsing at his temple. Marco stands beside him, his usual politician's smile replaced by a grim line.
"What happened?" I ask, not bothering with hellos.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Gio asks.
I take a seat behind my desk. "Here."
"We've been trying to reach you," Marco says, rubbing his neck in frustration.
"Oh, I've been busy."
"I bet," Gio says.
He's upset. And maybe he has a right to be. Last night's activities with Livia kept me away from my phone, and when I saw the missed calls this morning, I decided to enjoy life and fuck her again instead of returning any calls.
How bad can things get in one night, anyhow?
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" I ask again.
Gio's fist slams down on the mahogany table in front of him. "The fucking Rossis, that's what happened."
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. My brother's temper has always been quick to ignite, but I've learned to let him burn through it before getting to the heart of the matter.
Marco steps forward, ever the mediator. "They've made a move, Enzo. A big one."
I sit back in my chair.
Shit.
"Explain," I demand, feeling the ice forming in my veins.
Gio leans forward, his stocky, muscular frame so tense he looks like a spring ready to snap. "They hit one of our warehouses down by the docks. Cleaned it out and left three of our men dead."
I clench my fist, but I keep my face impassive. "Who?"
Marco takes a moment. "Stefano, Angel, and..." Marco hesitates again. "Little Nicky."
"Fuck," I mutter and lean forward.
Nicky was barely twenty, a good kid who'd joined us to help support his sick mother. I'd promised her I'd look out for him. The docks were normally our safest place to work.
Gio stands and walks over to my desk, his voice low and urgent. "That's not all. They left a message."
He pulls out his phone, showing me a picture. Spray-painted across the warehouse wall in blood-red letters: "AN EYE FOR AN EYE, FOR C."
C for Carmine.
I stare at the image, feeling a cold fury building inside me. The Rossis think they can come after my family, my people? They have no idea what they've just unleashed.
"Options," I say in a stern tone, looking at my brothers.
Gio's eyes ignite with a dangerous light. "We hit them back. Hard. Take out their main distribution center, send a fucking message they won't forget."
Marco shakes his head. "That's too risky. We need to be smart about this. Maybe we can still negotiate, find a diplomatic solution—"
"Diplomatic?" Gio scoffs. "They killed our men, Marco. They're pissing on our territory. Diplomacy is dead."
"But—"
I hold up a hand, silencing them both. The gears in my mind are spinning, weighing the consequences of each path I'm coming up with. The businessman in me sees the logic in Marco's approach, but the part of me that was forged in the Bonventi way of doing things screams for vengeance.
"We can't let this stand," I say finally, my voice cold and firm. "One of theirs, a fucking rat no less, isn't equal to three of ours. But we're not going to rush in half-cocked either."
I turn to Gio. "I want eyes on every Rossi operation in the city. Find their weak points, their vulnerabilities, and report back to me when you do. From there, we'll find a way to respond."
"Send them all to fucking hell," Gio says, a grin spreading across his face.
"And Marco, reach out to your contacts in the police department. Make sure this and any retaliation from us gets swept under the rug. And start putting out feelers with the other families. We might need allies before this is over."
Marco nods. "You got it."
"And once we bring this to you, then what?" Gio asks, always itching for combat.
"Once we've got intel, and we're thinking clearly, we're going to remind the Rossis why the Bonventi name is feared in this city," I say and lean back in my chair. "And when we're done, they'll wish they'd never touched what's ours."
There's a moment of silence as we contemplate our next moves.
Then, unexpectedly, Gio's face breaks into a sly grin.
"Okay, you've eased my mind about those pigs. Now, speaking of what's ours," he says, his tone shifting dramatically, "how's the future Mrs. Bonventi treating you? I hear from Marco that things are going well."
Marco catches on immediately, his earlier grimness replaced by his signature political smile. "We couldn't help but notice you were unavailable last night. You've never not been available."
"Yeah, that's true. Zo, you've always been on the line when we call," Gio says.
"I don't see how that's relevant to our current situation."
Gio lets out a bark of laughter. "Oh, it's relevant alright. Our fearsome leader, too busy to answer his phone, because of a woman no less."
"I'm not—" I start to defend myself, but Marco cuts me off.
"Face it, Enzo. You're whipped," he says, laughing.
I open my mouth to argue, to maintain my usual stoic demeanor, but something stops me. Maybe it's the stress of the situation with the Rossis, or maybe it's the lingering warmth I feel from my time with Livia, but suddenly, I don't want to pretend anymore.
"You know what?" I say, surprising even myself. "Maybe I am."
Gio and Marco exchange shocked glances.
"I'm the happiest I've ever been," I continue, the words pouring out now. "Livia, she's unlike anyone I've ever known. It feels like the first time I've ever truly connected with someone."
My brothers stare at me, clearly taken aback by my uncharacteristic openness.
"Well, shit," Gio finally says, his voice soft. "I'll be damned."
Marco nods, a genuine smile replacing his teasing one. "I'm happy for you. We're happy for you," he says, waving a hand between him and Gio.
"Sure, sure we are. I'll buy you a bottle of champagne once these Rossis are dealt with," Gio says.
"Have you taken her to La Sfera Nera?" Marco asks.
I shake my head. "No, I am tonight."
"Isn't that sweet," Gio says in a mocking tone. Marco elbows him, shaking his head slightly.
I clear my throat, suddenly feeling exposed. "Right. Well, we have work to do. Let's focus on that for now."
Gio stands. "I should have something in the next 48 hours."
I nod. "When you do, bring it to me, and we'll move forward."
Marco stands. "Enjoy dinner," Marco says.
As they leave the office, I'm full of a mix of emotions. The threat and dealing with the Rossis looms large, but so does the promise of a great evening ahead. For once in my life, I'm allowing myself to look forward to something beyond the family business.
And that, I realize, might be the most dangerous thing of all.