27. Valerio
VALERIO
The second I see that guy’s filthy hands on my Fede, I act.
I snipe at the assailants one at a time, with clinical precision. I get one in the head, the other in the chest.
“Tito!” I bark.
But his gun is already high, aiming at Mateo’s men on the other side.
I let him cover me and rush to my wife’s side. Two more men have taken over. They’re hoisting her up, her body too close to theirs for me to make a clean shot.
I see another try to make a grab for Alessio. I shoot the fucker and beckon my son near with my free arm. “Ale! Come here!”
He dashes into my arms, sobbing. “We need to save her!” he cries. “They’re taking her!”
Behind me, I can feel the others fly into formation. They’re holding the line, but it won’t hold for long.
Mateo’s men drag Fede’s limp body to an armored SUV. I sprint toward it, but a hand bites down on my shoulder.
“Don’t,” Riccardo growls. “You’ll be wide open.”
“Let me go,” I snarl. “That’s my wife! I need to?—”
“You can’t save your wife if you’re dead.”
He may be right, but I don’t give a shit. Every cell in my body is screaming at me to go to her.
I start running again.
The SUV roars to life.
I aim at the wheels, but the shots bounce off.
I get one last glimpse of Federica before Mateo Rubio’s voice snaps my head back.
“Dawn,” he repeats, motorcycle already revving. “Don’t make me wait. I’m not a patient man.”
Then he’s gone.
And so is she.
For ten seconds, the whole world is those two words.
She’s gone.
Then Alessio tugs on my sleeve. “Dad?”
Dad.
That single word yanks me back.
It’s the first time he’s called me that.
I never pushed for it. His adoption was a condition of my promotion to capo, not a choice.
I didn’t want him to feel obligated to me.
Even though caring for him was the only pure thing left in my life in those six months of hell, I never wanted him to think he owed me something.
But now he’s looking at me, and he needs me, and the cartel just took his new mom from him.
I channel my rage into something useful and turn to the others. “Lock the city,” I bark. “Bridges, tunnels, airports, private airstrips. Every road south gets eyes. Nobody sleeps.”
They start to move fast. Everything is fast paced. Bruno calls his men. Alberto takes Manhattan. Lorenzo cuts Staten Island routes. Leone starts naming docks and warehouses. Tito stands near Alessio, one hand on the boy’s shoulder, his face carved blank.
Alessio is still crying.
I can’t look at him for long. If I do, I’ll remember Federica hitting the ground.
But I still force myself to crouch by his side. “Ale, listen to me. We’re getting her back. You hear me? That’s a promise.”
The word promise echoes inside me. I used to think promises weren’t for men like us.
Today, I realize they’re all we have.
“Bruno, Tito,” I call. “We need to get to Rafael.”
At the warehouse, Rafael is still tied to the chair. He looks at my face and stops smiling.
“What happened?”
I hit him hard enough to knock the chair sideways. Bruno catches it before Rafael falls.
“Mateo took my wife,” I say. “He’ll kill her and Valentina unless I hand you over at dawn.”
Rafael spits blood, then goes very still at Valentina’s name. “He has both?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t bring me.”
I step closer. “Careful.”
“It’s a trap, Greco. Mateo doesn’t negotiate. The second he has me back, he kills your wife. Then he sends Valentina back in pieces because you insulted him by putting a Rubio in a chair.”
My hands curl.
I want to hit him again because he’s right and because Federica is somewhere with Mateo’s hands on her fate.
“Then what do you suggest?”
Rafael looks past me. His gaze lands on Alessio for one second, then returns to mine.
“Mateo uses people,” he says. “So use me.”
“As what?”
His smile returns, but it’s tired now.
“Bait.”