11. Enzo
Enzo
I stand by the small kitchenette with a lukewarm cup of black coffee resting in my hand, unable to tear my gaze away from the woman hunched over the digital tablet at the battered wooden table.
Elena wears a plain black t-shirt, the hem riding up high on her thighs, her dark hair is pinned haphazardly atop her head to expose the canvas of her neck.
Even from across the small room, I can see the constellation of violent, purple bruises blooming across her collarbone and throat. I marked her. I stripped away the polished, untouchable exterior of the Vitiello princess and claimed the ruthless, burning creature hiding underneath.
I find myself cataloging everything about her with a disturbing frequency, my mind replaying the filthy, beautiful sounds she made as she shattered around me hours ago.
I am forced to admit she is the most intoxicating exception I have ever encountered, she is a terrifying complement to my own darkness.
"The structural integrity of the eastern wing was reinforced three years ago," Elena remarks, her voice pulling me from my reflections.
She does not look up from the tablet, but her brow is furrowed in concentration.
"My uncle convinced my grandfather to install biometric scanners on the service entrances, but the idiot used a third-party security firm based out of Naples to handle the wiring.
If we cut the main breaker at the northern junction box, the backup generators take exactly forty-five seconds to engage. That is your window."
I set my coffee mug on the counter, crossing the cramped living space to stand behind her chair.
I place my hands on her shoulders, my thumbs grazing the sensitive skin at the base of her neck, feeling the instantaneous shiver that travels down her spine.
"Forty-five seconds is a lifetime when you know exactly where you are going, mia bella. "
Reaching over her shoulder, I tap the encrypted satellite phone resting beside her tablet. The device connects immediately, the secure line routing through three separate offshore servers before linking to the staging ground back in the States.
Giancarlo answers on the second ring. "Tell me you have a target, Enzo. The boys are restless, and I am getting extremely tired of watching Alessio take all the credit for cleaning up the Volkov mess in Boston."
"Boston is a distraction," I reply smoothly, my fingers tangling absently in the loose strands of Elena's hair.
"Palermo is the head of the snake. I need you to mobilize the primary assault squad, Giancarlo.
We are officially going on the offensive, and we are going to tear him out of his fortified castle. "
"Fucking finally," Giancarlo mutters, the sound of a heavy weapons crate slamming against a concrete floor echoing in the background of the call.
"I have thirty of our best operators geared up and waiting on the tarmac.
We are packing armor-piercing ordinance, breaching charges, and enough incendiary rounds to level a city block.
Just give me the coordinates. How are we bypassing the Sicilian port authorities?
He will have the main harbors locked down tight with customs agents looking for our faces. "
"We do not use the main harbors," I instruct, leaning closer to the tablet, studying the topographical map of the island Elena brought up on the secondary screen.
"There is a dilapidated fishing port fifty kilometers west of Trapani.
It is barely a blip on the radar, completely unmonitored by the Vitiello payroll because the water is too shallow for commercial freighters.
Charter two disguised private yachts and anchor them three miles off the coast. Use the Zodiac inflatables to bring the men ashore under the cover of darkness.
I have a contact on the ground who will leave three unmarked transport vans with the keys in the ignitions parked behind the abandoned cannery. "
Elena tilts her head back, her dark eyes locking onto mine, a spark of genuine admiration flashing in her gaze.
"The Trapani route is clear," Giancarlo confirms, the sound of furious typing filtering through the connection. "We can make landfall by tomorrow night. What is the objective once we secure the transport? Are we hitting the warehouse districts or the distribution hubs?"
"Neither," I state. "We are bypassing the infrastructure completely. We are launching a multi-tiered siege directly on Don Vitiello’s primary estate in the hills."
A momentary pause hangs on the line, the audacity of the command causing him to hesitate.
"You want to assault the main fortress? Enzo, that compound sits on a goddamn cliff.
It is surrounded by reinforced concrete walls, heavily armed mercenary patrols, and a security grid designed to repel a small army. A frontal assault is suicide."
"It would be suicide if we were going in blind," I agree, my eyes tracking the intricate, classified schematics currently displayed on Elena's tablet.
I look down at the woman seated in front of me.
I am asking her to hand over the most sensitive, guarded secrets of her family’s legacy.
I am asking her to provide the exact blueprints that will allow a rival syndicate to slaughter her uncle’s guards, breach the walls she grew up behind, and effectively dismantle the Vitiello empire in a single, catastrophic night.
I do not say a word. I simply gesture toward the screen with my chin, offering a wordless inquiry, demanding her explicit permission before I cross the point of no return.
Elena does not hesitate. Her lips curve into a beautiful, wicked smile, and she taps the transfer icon on the screen, authorizing the transmission of highly classified architectural files directly to my encrypted network.
"Check your inbox, Giancarlo," I instruct, a dark pride swelling in my chest at her unhesitating loyalty to our alliance.
"Jesus Christ," Giancarlo breathes a few seconds later, the awe evident in his voice as he opens the files. "You have the original architectural blueprints. You have the electrical grids, the blind spots in the camera coverage, and the exact patrol routes. Where the fuck did you get this, Enzo?"
"That is irrelevant," I deflect smoothly, protecting her involvement.
"Focus on the eastern service entrances.
The structure there was reinforced, but the biometric scanners are wired to a third-party junction box located on the northern perimeter.
We cut the power at the junction, which gives the assault team a forty-five-second window to breach the service doors before the backup generators come online.
We utilize a three-pronged attack. Team Alpha takes the junction box and holds the perimeter.
Team Bravo breaches the eastern service doors and sweeps the ground floor, neutralizing the mercenary garrison.
Team Charlie scales the western balconies to secure the upper levels and corner the Don. "
"It is a flawless strategy," Giancarlo admits, his bloodlust practically radiating through the phone line. "With these schematics, we can navigate the compound faster than the guards can respond to the breach. When do we initiate the siege?"
"Two nights from now," I decide, calculating the travel time required for the assault squad and the preparation needed on the ground in Palermo.
"Get out of the hotel tomorrow night, secure the transport vans, and move the men to the staging area in the abandoned vineyard outside the city limits.
We hit the estate at exactly three in the morning, when the mercenary shifts are rotating and their response times are at their most sluggish. "
"Understood," Giancarlo says. "I will brief the squad."
The line clicks dead, leaving the safehouse submerged in a dense, expectant stillness.
I pocket the satellite phone, my mind already running through the secondary variables, calculating the potential fail-safes Vitiello might employ once the perimeter is breached.
I need to acquire the specialized breaching charges from my local contact, and I need to map the escape routes through the dense forest surrounding the estate.
"I will handle the junction box on the northern perimeter myself," I say, pacing a short line across the scuffed floorboards, speaking my tactical thoughts aloud.
"I know how to bypass the localized alarms without triggering the main compound sirens.
Once I cut the power, I will breach the eastern wing with Team Bravo, pushing through the grand foyer to secure the main staircase.
My Uncle usually retreats to the reinforced panic room behind his grandfather's office, so I will need to corner him before he can engage the titanium deadbolts. "
I stop pacing, turning to face the table, already planning the exact caliber of weapon I intend to use when I finally stand face-to-face with the man who put a twenty million Euro bounty on the woman sitting before me.
Elena is staring at me, her posture is rigid, her dark eyes are narrowed into slits. The admiring, cooperative demeanor she displayed during the phone call has vanished. She slowly reaches forward, turning off the digital tablet and pushing it to the center of the table.
"You will breach the eastern wing," Elena repeats, her voice dangerously soft. "You will push through the foyer. You will corner my uncle."
I recognize the subtle warning in her tone, the friction sparking in the air between us, but the possessive, protective instincts roaring in my blood refuse to yield.
I spent the entire afternoon staring at the bruises on her neck, acutely aware that an entire island of opportunistic killers is currently hunting her for a massive payout.
"Yes," I state, my voice leaving no room for negotiation or debate.
"The siege is going to be a chaotic, violent bloodbath.
The mercenaries he hired are not street thugs, they are trained killers who will employ suppressive fire the second the doors come down.
You are the most valuable target in Sicily right now, Elena.
You will remain here, secured in the safehouse, while I dismantle your uncle's operation.
Once the estate is cleared and your uncle is dead, I will send a team to bring you to the compound so you can officially claim your throne. "
Elena stands up from the wooden chair. She crosses the short distance between us, tilting her head back to meet my gaze, the oversized black t-shirt doing nothing to diminish the commanding authority radiating from her pores.
She just looks at me, letting a dark, beautiful laugh spill from her lips. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," Elena says.