Chapter 23 #2
Even for my son, my patience had dried up, much like the blood on my hand.
“No, you’re not, and I will not stand here and argue with you about it. Get your ass in the car.”
Enzo folded his arms over his chest and stared me down like a little man ready for a fight.
Perhaps a more experienced father would have handled his outburst with more restraint and grace. And perhaps even I might have dealt with it differently had I not already gone through so much.
I picked up my son, threw him over my shoulder, trapping his legs against my chest, then I tossed him onto the back seat of my car, engaged the child locks, and slammed the door in his face.
Enzo screamed at me and pounded on the windows.
Turning away from the betrayal on his face, I ignored him. He could hate me all he wanted if it kept him alive.
I walked past the men to one of the SUVs and began arming myself for war. I’d already had a Glock on me as well as a few knives, so I grabbed a semi-automatic rifle, night-vision scopes, and a bulletproof vest to wear under my jacket.
“When do we head out?” Bruce asked.
“Now.” Then louder, so everyone could hear me, I said, “I want to warn you all right now. This is going to be the first of what’s probably going to become several bloody battles. This mission is simple. We get into Chicago undetected, invade the Moscatelli mansion, and we get my wife back.
“I don’t give a fuck how many people we have to kill. I don’t care if we must kill cops or innocent bystanders. We’ll do what’s necessary to get Valentina on this plane, in one piece, and in less than an hour. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, boss,” the men responded.
“After this, we’ll have a war to face. Edgardo Lordi is playing a game using us as pawn pieces. I don’t appreciate being manipulated or maimed. We don’t let that shit stand.”
I held up my hand so the men could see my finger.
Christ, I still hadn’t bothered to treat or wrap it. I made a mental note to take care of that while on the plane.
“Are we going against the Commission?” someone asked.
“We’re part of the Commission for now, but I intend to disassemble it from the inside out. Any objections?”
Silence.
“Good. Let’s get our asses on the plane, avenge the brothers they took from us, and retrieve our queen.”
The men lifted their guns in a triumphant yell, then headed for the waiting plane.
I stayed behind and had Tony put down Enzo’s window enough that he could see my eyes and hear me.
The boy glared at me as he swiped at the tears on his face.
“You can’t make me stay here. I’m not a child.”
“Yes, you are a child, Enzo, mine, and I can. That should be enough, but I’m going to go against my better judgment and treat you like a man right now.”
I ducked down to his eye level.
“Think you can handle it?” I added.
Enzo nodded and sat back, listening.
“You’re not going with me on this mission, not because you’re too young, or it’s too dangerous, though you are too young, and it is far too dangerous. You’re not trained yet, son. You don’t have the skills that would make you an asset on this kind of mission, not yet.
“Untrained men are a liability. It could make the mission go sideways. People, including your mother, could get hurt.”
He blinked at me, his lower lip trembling.
“So when I have the right skills, will you let me come with you on missions?”
“No,” I said honestly. “You’re my heir. Which means you and I can’t risk our lives at the same time. You’re all that’s left of this family, Enzo. You’re my son. You’re a Vignali.
“So if I die tonight, I need you to take control of everything. Tony will teach you. He’ll show you how to grow into the shoes you were born to wear. Do you understand me?”
“She’s my mama,” he insisted. “I should go with you.”
“I need you here in case I don’t come home. If I don’t come back, you’re to reach out to your uncle, Marco Moscatelli. If Marco is dead, then Santo. Never Aris.” I flicked my gaze to Tony in the front seat, who also had his window open to listen. “Understand?”
They both nodded.
“Which one is Marco, and which one is Santo?” Enzo asked.
“Marco is the oldest. Santo is the one covered in tattoos.”
He’d seen them when they invaded our home and took his mother. He probably remembered all too well.
“Aris is the one that took her?” he asked.
“That’s correct. Her twin. He’s a very bad man, Enzo.”
“So if you don’t come back, I contact Marco… but why?”
“Because he’ll know where to find your mother, and you’ll use his help to get her back. If I fail, I need you here for her sake, to try again. Okay?”
Enzo’s brows furrowed as he considered my offer, and I imagined I often wore the same expression.
After several seconds, he nodded.
Thank Christ. Telling him all this was the only thing I could think of to keep him from trying to sneak aboard the fucking plane. My son was brilliant, bold, and a stubborn pain in the ass, just like his beautiful mother.
He slid his fingers out and wiggled them at me.
“Just bring her back, okay?”
I took his fingers and gently squeezed, a knot of emotion tying up my throat.
“I’ll do everything I can to bring her back,” I promised—one I would kill to keep.
“Can you do me one more favor, Mr. Vignali?” he asked.
“What’s that?”
“Kill Aris.”
I smiled. “Consider it done. I need a favor in return, son.”
“Okay,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to hear you call me Mr. Vignali again. I’m your father. Think about what you want to call me… dad or papà or whatever you like. When your mother and I get home, you can tell us what you’ve decided.”
I didn’t wait for my son to agree.
He knew I meant it.
My son understood when an option wasn’t given.
And he was slowly learning to accept my commands.
I stepped back and tapped on the top of the car twice to let Tony know he should drive away.
Then, as I settled in on a plush leather seat, and the flight attendant closed the plane’s main door, my phone pinged with a text message.
It was from Marco Moscatelli.
Russians are taking ownership of her in the morning
I put the phone back in my pocket and prepared for takeoff.
Fuck if they were.