Chapter 32 - Enzo
My phone buzzes on my chest and startles me awake. I'd fallen asleep in my bed—our bed.
I grab my phone and unlock it; the screen is bright, and I squint my eyes. It's a text from Gio.
Guest is here. Waiting in the white room.
I rub my face and sit up.
The white room.
I get out of bed and splash some water on my face. I make my way out of the suite, and the guards that were there follow me, keeping a safe distance.
I make my way downstairs to the garage, where a man is waiting to open a secret door that will take me underground.
The white room was actually my idea some years ago.
I wanted a place on-site where I could ask questions of people, find out things I needed to know.
If they didn't cooperate, things could get a little physical.
Gio and I agreed the concrete room should be painted white so our guests could witness their blood loss in full detail, the white hiding none of the red liquid.
We found that the sight of our guests' blood was a good motivator for talking, which is all we wanted. Well, maybe Gio wanted a bit more.
I walk down the stairs leading underground, and I'm reminded of how cold it gets down here. One winter, we had a guy in his underwear tied to the metal chair, and Gio was beating him in a full down coat.
When I get to the bottom and enter the room, I see a man in the middle, tied to the chair. He's already been knocked around a few times, and small trickles of blood are running down his nose over the duct tape that's around his mouth.
His eyes go wide when he sees me walk in.
"This son of a bitch is a Rossi. When we tailed the car from the kidnapping, he was the one driving. They must have switched at some point."
I nod, looking at the man, my anger starting to build.
"Has he said anything?" I ask.
Gio shakes his head. "No, says he was just given the job to drive the car after they switched near Skokie. We caught up with him coming off I-94."
"Well, let me have a crack at him."
I step closer to the man tied to the chair, my eyes scanning his battered face. The white room amplifies every detail—the beads of sweat on his forehead, the trembling of his lips beneath the duct tape.
"Remove the tape," I order Gio, my voice low and controlled.
Gio rips off the tape, eliciting a muffled cry from our guest. I lean in close, my face inches from his.
"You know who I am?" I ask, keeping my voice low and firm. When he nods, I smile. "Good. Then you know what I'm capable of."
The man nods vigorously.
"Where did they take her?"
"I swear, I just drove—" His words cut off as my fist connects with his jaw. The impact vibrates up my arm, and his head snaps back.
"Wrong answer." I grab his chin, forcing him to look at me. "Every lie you tell me, every second you waste that keeps me from her, I'll start removing parts, you understand? Starting with your fingers."
His eyes dart to Gio, who's already laying out a set of pliers on a small metal table.
"Please, I'm telling the truth! They just told me to drive—"
I backhand him, splitting his lip further. Blood sprays across the white floor.
Beautiful.
"You're not just a soldier, you're a Rossi cousin. You really expect me to believe they just had you driving without any other details?"
"I... I..."
My hand shoots out, gripping his jaw tightly. "Don't lie to me," I snarl. "You were driving the car. Where did they take her?"
Our guest whimpers, tears welling in his eyes. "Please, I swear to God. I don't know. They just told me where to meet and to drive that car north!"
"Gio," I say, not taking my eyes off the man, "bring me the pliers. I'll start with his pinky."
"Last chance," I growl, positioning the pliers around his pinky finger. "Where. Is. She?"
The metal is cold against my palm, and I can feel his pulse racing through the tool.
His entire body trembles. Sweat and blood drip onto his expensive shirt, creating dark stains against the fabric.
The man sobs, snot and tears streaming down his face. "Please, I swear to God, I don't know!"
I begin to squeeze, feeling the initial resistance of skin and flesh. A high-pitched scream tears from his throat, echoing off the white walls. The sound feeds my rage, my need to hurt something, to make someone pay for taking her.
"Zo!" Gio's voice cuts through the screaming. "Wait!"
I pause, the pressure still constant on the pliers, drawing a whimper from our guest. I turn, annoyed at the interruption. "What?"
"They just sent this," Gio says and holds up his phone, and my world stops.
It's Livia.
Her hands are tied, and her face is bruised. A trickle of blood runs from her split lip. Her once-vibrant eyes are dull and unfocused, likely from whatever drugs they used to subdue her.
The pliers crash onto the floor. My hands shake as I snatch the phone from Gio, studying every detail. The basement walls behind her, the rusty pipes overhead, anything to make out where she might be.
I turn and grab our guest by the throat, squeezing until his eyes bulge. "That basement. You recognize it?" I ask, jamming the phone into his face. "And don't fucking lie to me. Look at it."
He stares at the phone screen, his face draining of color. "I... I think. FUCK," he yells, "If I talk, I'm dead. They'll kill me."
"And what do you think will happen to you if you don't tell me?"
I don't wait for a response. The image of Livia flashes in my thoughts, and I see red.
I grab a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back. "Tell me where she fucking is now," I scream.
"It…it might be the old abandoned Midwest Steel complex. Building C by the lake. They've got a basement set up there for, for questioning people. Looks like that."
"Who gave you orders? The person who took her? What's his name?"
"Oh, come on, I can't—" His words cut off in a scream as I drive my fist into his abdomen.
"Names!" I roar.
"V-Vincent," he gasps. "Vincent Rossi. He was in charge of the operation."
I release him, stepping back. "Vincent Rossi," I repeat, the name tasting like ash in my mouth. "Gio, what do we know about him?"
Gio's already tapping away on his tablet. "Vincent Rossi, 35. Oh shit, it's Joseph Rossi's nephew. Known for his sadistic tendencies. He's been pushing for more aggressive action against us for months."
"And this warehouse, do we know where it is?"
"Yes," Gio says.
"Okay, good," I say and look down at our guest. "You have a family?"
The man nods. "Wife."
"In exchange for your help, I'll let her live," I say and pull out my pistol.
"But you, you helped take her, and for that—you must die."
"Wait, I—"
The gunshot drowns out his pleas, and he slumps over, blood oozing from his chest.
"Right through the heart, nice Zo," Gio says.
"Well," I say, turning back to him, "take my heart, and I take yours."
"What now?" he asks.
"Get everything ready. We move tonight."
"Hold on now, you can't go," Marco says as he enters the room, Gabriel with him.
I stare at Marco and Gabriel, my jaw clenching. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Marco steps forward, blocking my path with his hands raised placatingly. "Enzo, think about this. You're the Don. You're too valuable. The family needs you here."
"Get out of my way," I growl, but they stand their ground.
"Come on, Zo," Gio adds, gripping my shoulder. "If something happens to you, everything falls apart. The whole family structure—"
I shove him hard. "Fuck that! They took her!"
The image of Livia, bound and bleeding, clouds my vision.
"I said move!" I roar, lunging forward, but both my brothers catch me, wrestling me back.
"You're not thinking straight," Marco grunts, struggling to hold me. "This is exactly what the Rossis want—to draw you out!"
"Let me go, or I swear to God—"
"Listen to us, goddammit!" Marco shouts, his face inches from mine. "We're not saying don't rescue her. We're saying you can't be the one to do it."
I struggle harder, my vision blurring with rage. "She's mine to protect! I promised her!"
"They're right." Gabriel's quiet voice cuts through my rage. He steps forward, face stern. "She's my sister. I'll lead the rescue."
"The fuck you will—"
"No, listen." Gabriel moves closer, his eyes meeting mine. "I was the best hitman you had before I stepped back. I know how to do this. And Livia..." His voice catches. "She's my blood. Just like you, I'll destroy that whole fucking place to get her back."
I freeze, staring at him. Gabriel continues, his voice steady. "She's my sister, Enzo. I'll risk everything for her. I'll lead the team into Rossi's compound."
The fight drains out of me, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. Gio cautiously releases my arms, and I slump against the wall.
"You're right," I admit. “You're all fucking right."
Gabriel nods. "I'll bring her back, Enzo. I swear it."
I straighten up, looking at my brothers. "Get everything ready. I need a moment with Gabriel."
Marco and Gio exchange glances before nodding and heading toward the stairs.
I wait until their footsteps fade before turning to Gabriel.
"Close the door, I need to discuss something with you," I say.
Gabriel shuts the door and looks at me, waiting for me to speak. "Let me guess, you're coming with me."