Chapter 26
STEFANO
I thought about the text message from Marco Moscatelli. He hadn’t been warning me out of some goddamn courtesy.
His message meant more than what he’d said. The words urged me to dig deep and pull an ace out of my sleeve. They pleaded with me to come to Chicago and fight for Val before the Russians showed up for her in the morning.
The man cared about his sister.
And he was afraid of Klimov.
Klimov had a reputation for double-crossing his allies and business partners. He took their money, their women, their territories, broke contracts, all before savagely killing them.
Marco knew this.
He also understood my reputation just as well. My word was my word. I prioritized the bottom line. I gave fair treatment to the men who honored their word.
Had I ever killed my business partners? Of course. I had a strict, zero tolerance policy for those playing games behind my back or touching what belonged to me.
Fuck around and find out.
“Is this the correct property entrance, boss?” Bruce asked.
I refocused on the blueprints detailing the Moscatelli estate, located in the middle of the Gold Coast neighborhood.
“It is. Keep in mind, while the mansion is large, the lot it sits on is quite small. Neighbors live close on either side.”
“Tony said he checked, and Moscatelli has police in that district on his payroll.”
I nodded. “That’s to be expected, and it’s an advantage for us. Calls made by the neighbors will likely go unanswered, giving us more time to get out.”
I pointed to a small building at the back of the property.
“I want this area handled first. You run point, Bruce. This is where the guards sit when they aren’t making their rounds.
Tony’s sure they change shifts at midnight, so we’re going in at exactly 12:20.
By that time, men from the earlier shift should be on their way home, and the current shift will still be setting up. ”
“Are we to kill or maim and disarm?” another man asked.
“Usually, for an ordinary mission, we’d incapacitate and disarm. I don’t enjoy killing men for doing their jobs.”
But fuck—there was nothing ordinary about this one. I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and made a deliberate choice.
“In this case, the Moscatellis broke into my home, killed Vignali men, and the motherfuckers took my wife. They shot at me… and my child. Now we need to send a message. This time, I’m commanding you to kill everyone on sight, until Saul and Aris Moscatelli are dead.”
Each man looked me in the eye and nodded.
“Thank you,” I said. “We’re in and out within ten minutes. The goal is to kill Saul and Aris Moscatelli, yes, but don’t forget the most important thing… I don’t want Val harmed. I swear to Christ, if I bring her back with another bullet wound, Enzo will never let me hear the end of it.
“So once the old man is dead, his second son is dead, and the girl is safe—we get the fuck out and back to this plane.”
Bruce cleared his throat, bounced his leg up and down.
“What about Marco and the youngest Moscatelli?”
I understood his frustration. Both men had taken part in the home invasion and kidnapping. I gripped Bruce’s shoulder.
“Unless it’s kill or be killed, leave them alone. I believe they’ll either stay neutral or come to our side at some point. I can’t predict which, so use caution in any event.”
Taking a minute to pause, I stared at the men filling Medico’s plane and thanked Christ for them. All good men. I hoped like hell no more Vignali families would have to grieve the loss of their husbands, sons, and fathers.
“And finally,” I said, “I want everyone back on board immediately, and wheels up before the Chicago PD figures shit out. Do not delay. Do not fall behind.”
As promised, SUVs waited for us when we arrived at the airstrip, keys in the ignition with a note to leave them where we found them when finished.
I had the men disable the GPS in the cars and enter Moscatelli’s address into the navigation apps on their phones.
We drove through the city toward Moscatelli’s residential neighborhood. The snow piled along the sides of the boulevards reflected the moonlight, making it easier to see. The frigid lakeside air had probably driven the neighbors to their warm beds hours earlier.
We parked one block away from our target location, arriving just after midnight. Perfect timing.
Things were going according to plan.
Once I gave the signal, we vacated the SUVs and made our way down the street, lurking to the back of the property, and observing any activity inside the small cabin-like structure behind the main house.
I made a mental note. My child lived in my house now, and with any luck, sooner than later, so would more children. I considered how separating my work from our home might be a wise move. The house would be more secure with fewer people coming and going, making my family safer.
Not for a minute did I believe that same reason explained why Moscatelli kept his men out of the house, but for all intents and purposes, it was an advantage for me.
I would never leave my family in a mansion unguarded.
After the night they’d taken Val, Tony increased security even further on my estate, buttoning it all down, locking it up, and having it patrolled like a fucking military fortress.
It was go time.
As planned, four men entered the cabin with Bruce taking point. The rooms inside were too small to clear with any more men. We would end up in each other’s way, and the last thing I wanted was for my soldiers to shoot one of their own.
The remaining five of us crouched near the hedges, using the shadows to our advantage. Within seconds after the others entered the cabin, shots fired. My crew held our position.
My men exited the cabin and gave an all-clear signal.
We surrounded the house.
Bruce’s crew split off to breach the front door. With all eyes on the front of the house, the rest of us would enter through the back. They wouldn’t expect it, and that gave us a distinct advantage.
Divide and conquer.
There were only nine of us, and we needed to make it seem like there were a lot more men invading the property.
My crew took the back and got into position under the windows near two entry doors. I counted down the seconds, waiting for Bruce to lock it in before I moved inside.
Shots rang out from the front of the house. I held up my hand, stopping the men from reflexively rushing in too soon.
Twenty seconds later, shouting started, and I gave the signal to move, then my strongest soldier kicked in the back door.
Two young men were in a four seasons room, scrambling to arm themselves before heading toward all the commotion.
Their actions seemed disorganized and shaky. Not soldiers. Untrained boys in their twenties. Based on the pile of coke on the tabletop, the rolled-up hundreds, and their expensive clothing, I guessed they were sons of mafia leaders or politicians.
“They’re that way. Move your asses,” one of them snapped and pointed, believing we were Moscatelli men.
We killed them with clean shots to the heads before moving in tandem with my men into the house. Their fathers should have taught them better. My son would never get caught in a situation like this one, and I would make damn sure of it.
We marched through the first level, clearing rooms.
When we entered a grand dining room with a circular marble staircase, several of Moscatelli’s men filed down in our direction. All were armed to the teeth, wearing protective vests.
In an instant, we went from clearing unobstructed rooms to being surrounded with bullets flying.
My men and I scattered, finding cover wherever we could while returning fire. I heard a few barked swears, which meant one or two men took hits but not fatally.
We gave back just as well.
Someone had clearly tipped off Moscatelli. He seemed to anticipate our arrival, happy to sacrifice the guards in the cabin to get us inside to face his hidden squad of soldiers.
Did that son of a bitch Edgardo Lordi call Saul Moscatelli? It wouldn’t have surprised me. Or maybe Angelo Medico did it. They were the only men outside of my organization aware of my plans.
Fuck. It could have been Marco. He’d let me know the Russians were coming to take my girl in the morning. Maybe he counted on me coming for her. Maybe he never cared about her or wanted to do business and had laid a trap instead.
It didn’t matter. Not at this point.
Once again, I’d been underestimated.
They seemed to think they owned the element of surprise, but Tony and I had trained my lieutenants and soldiers to expect such surprises. We came to fight. We didn’t expect to walk out the door with the girl and a polite wave goodbye.
I didn’t see the Moscatelli family themselves, the pussies.
According to Tony’s intel, Val should’ve been upstairs, beyond the firing squad, behind the last door on the right.
The tight, circular build of the staircase made it difficult to fire up at the men coming down. They had the higher ground. But it also made it harder for them to take aim at us, and we had more cover down below than they did on the stairs.
A scream pierced the air. Her scream.
It didn’t come from the second floor. It came from behind me. My blood iced over. She wasn’t upstairs.
One of my men waved me on from the far side of a buffet.
“Go, boss, and I’ll cover your back.”
I nodded, and as more bullets flew, I made my way through an ornate marble hallway and the kitchen to a sitting room.
What I found there sent another frigid shock through me.
My girl. My wife. My Val.
Blood stained her lips. Her eyes were bruised and swollen.
Aris had her hair wrapped around his fist and a fucking gun pressed against her head.
She seemed scared. She also seemed quite pissed.
Her light blue eyes burned with fury and fear. She had one hand balled into a fist, and the other pushed inside her robe, supporting the left side of her ribcage.
A beautifully feral woman. Wild, unpredictable—hurt.
“Is this what you’re looking for, asshole?” Aris asked.
“Let her go,” I said. “Hand her over, and my men and I will stop fucking up the decor.”
He shook his head and grinned.
“Do you really think we’re going to let you take her?”
I sighted my gun between his eyes.
“Do you really think I’m going to let you hurt her again?”
Aris sneered. “I don’t think you have a fucking choice. She doesn’t belong to you. She never belonged to you.”
“She does now. Drop the girl, and I might let you live.”
“Don’t you dare,” Val snarled. “This fucking monster must be put down. He threatened our son. He plans to sneak in and slit Enzo’s throat. You cannot let this piece of shit live.”
Aris jerked on her hair, but she didn’t so much as whimper, not even as tears streaked down her cheeks.
“My, those are strong words for such a stupid little cunt.”
His hideous words made me hiss through my teeth.
I gripped my gun tighter.
“Let her go now, or this bullet goes between your eyes.”
“You won’t fire at me,” Aris said. “You shoot me, and you shoot her. Do you really trust your aim that much?”
Then he swung around to cover himself with her body, ducking his head to take away my clean shot.
Fucking coward.
“I’ll shoot through her if it means killing you,” I bluffed. “Wouldn’t be the first bullet she’s taken. But unlike you, your sister’s strong, and she’ll be okay.”
Aris laughed. “I don’t know, man… she’s lost a lot of blood in the last few days. Not sure how much more she can take. And then there’s the other problem.”
“What’s that?”
“How much of her is left when the Russians come to collect her. You couldn’t even fight off my family. We broke into your house, took what you thought was yours, and there wasn’t a fucking thing you could do to stop us. How you gonna take on Klimov?”
I inched to the left, to get a clear aim at my target without him noticing my movement.
“And still, here I am, so don’t you worry, Moscatelli. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family.”
Fucker shifted to keep Val between us.
I ground my molars together so hard my jaw spasmed.
“Lower your fucking weapon and let the girl go.”
He let out an unhinged laugh, like an insane cartoon villain.
“You’re not going to kill me, you little bitch.”
Valentina stared at me, and as she spoke, her voice cracked.
“You can’t reason with him, Stefano. He’s high, and even if he wasn’t snorting shit, he doesn’t understand reason.”
Aris sneered. “That’s right, you tell him, sister. Tell him how mean your big brother is and how there’s no way I’ll lose this little altercation.”
“My big brother is Marco. You’re just an asshole,” she spat.
“Bitch.” He pressed the gun harder against her temple.
Hard enough to make her wince. She would have a mark there. A bruise covering her soft temple.
I had sworn my girl wouldn’t bear any more fucking marks made by other men. I pulled back the hammer on my gun.
“Last warning. Lower your weapon and back away from my wife, or I’ll fucking kill you anyway.”
I locked my gaze on Val’s to send her a message. I wanted her to drop herself down fast to expose the motherfucker, so I could take my shot.
But she didn’t nod in agreement.
Her gaze shifted behind me instead.
“No, you won’t,” a deeper male voice said.
Then he pressed a gun into my spine.
“You’re a long way from home, boy,” he said. “You must be fucking stupid to come for my daughter again. Someone needs to teach you New Yorkers the meaning of the word no.”
Saul Moscatelli.
My gut twisted. Sweat ran down the sides of my face.
Getting Val away from her depraved brother, killing the motherfucker, and my ever-increasing rage had made me lose track of my secondary focus.
I didn’t dare lower my weapon.
“Just give me the girl, and no one has to die,” I said.
“I won’t be giving you my daughter ever, Vignali.”
Saul let out a dark chuckle and dug the barrel of his gun deeper into my spine.
“You came into my house, attacked my men, and tried to kidnap my daughter. I’m well within my rights to kill you—now I don’t even have to hide your body.”