Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
STEFANO
Panic overwhelmed me. My hands shook. My lungs became dead weight inside my chest, pinching my heart between them.
I pulled out of my jacket, loosened my tie, lowered the car window, and sucked in the cool autumn air.
Tony turned and stared at me from the front passenger seat.
“Still in Lordi’s territory, boss. Open window isn’t safe.”
I nodded and put the bullet-proof glass back up.
Fuck. I needed to get to Val and Enzo faster.
Jimmy did his best to get through the traffic quickly, but it didn’t matter how much skill a driver had or how many laws he broke. Manhattan streets were always congested during rush hour, making it impossible to get anywhere in good time.
“How the fuck did she get out of the house?” I asked.
But the real question in my mind, the more important one, remained unspoken.
Why did she leave me again?
She wasn’t safe anywhere else or with anyone else. Someone out there wanted to kill her and our son.
Why couldn’t she accept the truth and let me protect them?
I had broken my marriage contract, calling off the wedding with Benedetta’s blessing, losing the power that came with it… to show Val that I meant every fucking word I’d said.
Val understood the repercussions of the choice I’d made. She knew I had relinquished my best chance to seize revenge for my family, the one thing I’d worked so hard to accomplish. She knew what I’d given up for her and my son.
Still, it wasn’t enough for her.
Tony cleared his throat to get my attention, giving me a better outlet for my energy.
Good. A worried mind and a panicked one were useless.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, Stef, but Bruce said the men were distracted.”
“What?” I snapped.
Anger, I could work with that. Anger got shit done.
I let the rage flow through my body and used it as fuel.
“Distracted by what? And if you say they were watching some TikTok bitch bouncing on a yoga ball again, I’ll put a bullet in their fucking heads myself.”
Tony cleared his throat again.
“What?” I repeated.
“Fuck,” he said. “It’s worse than that.”
Tony frowned, clearly annoyed with the men, but kept his eyes forward, helping Jimmy look for openings to jump lanes.
Sweat coated the inside of my fists. I clenched and relaxed my jaws. My shoulders carried the heaviness of my rage on them, making the stitches in my arm tighten with a stinging sensation.
Pain could be as useful as anger. It focused my senses and sharpened my resolve.
“Explain,” I ordered.
“Valerie told the men they should eat her cookies while they were still warm,” Tony muttered. “Then she went upstairs with the boy, leaving them to it.”
Red clouded my vision. I pulled breath in through my nose, the ring on my left hand digging into my flesh as I hung on to what little self-control I had left.
“Are you telling me baked fucking goods distracted my trained soldiers?”
“No one thought she would try to leave your house, boss. You laid down the law with her. She had to know it’s the safest place for her and the boy. The excuse I'm getting is she behaved very obediently with them, seemed reasonable even.”
“You’re fucking kidding me, right? So they’ve never met a strong woman protecting her child? Reasonable doesn’t even register. I swear to Christ, if I don't get her back, Tony, I'll kill every one of those lazy motherfuckers.”
“Leave it to me, boss” Tony said.
As my second, Tony had the right to demand nearly the same level of respect from the men as they gave me. He trained them and they answered to him, so when they failed, he failed.
“I’ll give you one shot to make it right before I step in. One, Tony, that’s it. Understand?”
He nodded.
“Good. Now shut the fuck up and get me to Con Amore.”
It took us forty fucking minutes to get to Brooklyn.
I could have walked faster.
The second we pulled up in front of the café, I knew something had gone very wrong. The night before, after making sure Val and Enzo were safe, I called in a few favors to ensure the cops on my payroll helped process the scene.
One of my crews met them and covered the broken windows with plywood. They tacked a sign to the front door telling customers the place was closed for renovations. Some excuse about a pipe bursting and a promise that Con Amore would reopen for business soon.
I planned to rebuild it. I knew how much Val loved the place, how much hard work she’d put into it over the years. More than that, Enzo needed continuity. He needed to have the only home he’d ever known available to him when he needed it.
Hell, I had my own personal attachment to it.
Once the police released the scene, I intended to send my men in to fix the damage and bring in associate subcontractors for the improvements. I wanted to make it the same for Val and Enzo, but better.
More comfortable. Stronger. Safer.
The place needed new ovens, top-of-the-line commercial coffee machines, and solid furniture. I would make this right for her and spare no expense.
But as I stared at the building now, I noticed how the plywood dangled, how the new lock on the front door hung by a thread after likely being smashed with a hammer.
No question, Val hadn’t done that.
She’d taken her purse. She had a key for the back door.
“You should stay here. Let me have a look first,” Tony said.
“Fuck that. I’m going in.”
I got out and went around to the car’s trunk. Tony followed and opened it. Then he removed the false bottom to reveal our hidden collection of weapons. I grabbed a couple more magazines for my pistols.
Then Tony pulled out an assault rifle, slammed a magazine into it, and shut the trunk.
“At least let me take point, huh?” he asked.
I gave him a look which clearly said that wasn’t happening.
With a sigh, Tony stepped into place behind me and to the right, ready to follow my lead. If this were anything less important, I would have let him take point. Beyond it being his job, he also had the military training I lacked.
Didn’t matter in this case.
For my family, no one risked more than I did.
My gaze moved around the shop as we entered. It had been destroyed worse than during the shootout.
Absolutely everything.
All tables and chairs were decimated. Holes punched in the walls. Coffee machines smashed. A destroyed refrigerator door from the kitchen.
“What the fuck,” Tony said under his breath.
I carried my gun in the low-ready position while weaving through the rubble and passing through the busted kitchen door. The goddamn kitchen was worse if that was possible.
The gas range stood on its side in the middle of the room.
I pointed it out to Tony, and he nodded before heading that way. He dropped to one knee, sniffed around, then shook his head, letting me know he didn’t smell any gas.
The police must have shut off the line running into the building. So no ticking clock counting down to an explosion.
A thud came from above us.
Someone moved upstairs in the apartment.
Tony and I pivoted and aimed our weapons up the stairs. The sound continued, another thud every few seconds.
My second-in-command stepped forward first to climb the staircase ahead of me, but I blocked him with my outstretched arm and took the lead myself.
The apartment had received the same treatment as the café. The living room and kitchen had been ransacked from top to bottom. Furniture lay upside down, bookcases tipped over, clothes and personal items littered all over the floor.
Fuck. But where was Val and our son?
“Val… Enzo… Valerie!” I shouted.
More glass crunched beneath my shoes.
Whoever had destroyed my son’s childhood home would pay for it with his life.
The bastard’s death would come slowly with excruciating pain. The animal would suffer for his crimes against my family. I would make sure everyone saw his lifeless body and understood what happened when you fucked with someone who belonged to me.
After we slid the couch away from the door, I cleared the first bedroom, then moved on to the bathroom. Enough light from the adjoining bedroom penetrated the darkness, so I could check the tub and linen closet.
Clear.
A thunk came from the other room.
My gut clenched and knotted.
I motioned for Tony to step aside. Then I pushed through the hanging pieces of the bathroom door and into the second bedroom.
The room wasn't as trashed. The bedside table had been turned over and a door broken.
Another thunk . This time, I pinpointed the origin.
It came from inside the wardrobe.
Someone banged around in there, trying to get out.
With my pulse racing, I signaled for Tony to step back. He trained his weapon on the wardrobe as I moved toward the giant piece of furniture. Tony remained focused with his assault rifle as I flung aside a piece of the bathroom door and threw open the wardrobe’s double doors.
We didn’t see anything but clothing.
I took a cautious step back to get a better angle.
Inside a split second, my son tumbled out onto the floor.
Enzo’s arms and legs flailed as I bent to pick him up. He pushed me away and kicked me. His face had flushed with a deep crimson, and his cheeks stained with tears.
Seeing him that way did something painful to me. Something I neither recognized nor understood.
Both heat and cold washed through me at once, like there was too much air, but I couldn’t take in any of it. My blood was on fire, my chest housing some frozen foreign mass, and I wanted to tear the fucking world to pieces.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do.
My son.
Someone had done this to my son. Someone had made him hurt this badly, and I couldn’t fix it. I was his father. It was my job to fix it, to protect him, to keep him safe and happy.
A father for less than twenty-four hours, and already I had failed my son.
“This is your fault!” Enzo screamed.
His hands balled into tight little fists as he banged them against me. I didn't try to stop him.
I took every hit he had to give until he started hurting himself more than he hurt me. Then I grabbed his arms, drew him in, and held him close to my body.
“Breathe,” I whispered in his ear, repeating it over and over.
My mother’s words, her whispers.
The soft words she had used to soothe me as a child after a fight with my brother or my father or the bully at school.
Only my mother’s voice had helped me rein in my emotions when I became so full of anger and pain. She had taught me the control my father always lacked.
Now it was my turn to help my boy.
His furious shouts melted into helpless sobs.
“Breathe,” I said. “Just breathe, son.”
Slowly, I inhaled and exhaled with him, for him, until the rise and fall of his chest matched the rhythm of mine. When he calmed down enough, I pulled him back so I could see his face.
“Where is she, Enzo?”
“He took her. He took her, and it's all my fault,” he screamed.
“No, this is not your fault. Do you hear me? It’s mine.”
I brushed his curly locks away from his swollen eyes.
“I should have done a better job protecting her. Protecting you. This is not your fault. But now I need you to help me. Tell me everything that happened, so I can get her back. Who took her? Do you know who it was?”
Fresh tears streamed down his face.
“I don't know… we came in through the back. To pick up some clothes and some stuff Mama had hidden. Then we were going to leave. We were going to go somewhere safe.”
“Tell me what happened next,” I said, ignoring the sting of his words.
That pain would have to be dealt with later.
“I thought Mama would want a picture from downstairs. Her and Nonna and the café. So I ran down to get it, and… and I think he saw me. He figured out we were here.
“I ran back upstairs, then he broke in through the front door. We heard him smashing everything, screaming, calling Mama awful names. Then he… he came looking for us.”
His words muddled as he tried to get them all out at once.
“Breathe,” I reminded him. “You’re doing great, Enzo.”
He took a deep breath. I put his hand on my chest, so he could match his pacing to mine again. It took him a minute, but he calmed down enough to keep talking.
“Okay, what happened after he smashed up the café?”
“He came upstairs. We were hiding in the bathroom. She said whatever room he went in first, we would go out the other one and run downstairs to get away.
“But he… he knew. Like he could read her mind or something. He locked all the doors and trapped us in. So she put me in the wardrobe and said I had to wait for you to find me. Then you would help me get her back.”
“I will get her back,” I assured him.
He shook his head, his small body trembling.
“I don’t think she meant it. I think she just wanted me to hide, so the bad man would take her and not me.”
“Your mama is a strong woman,” I said. “And she would do anything to protect you. And I will do everything in my power to protect her, too. I will get her back. Do you believe me?”
Enzo craned his neck to gaze up at me, like he wanted to see through me, then he nodded.
“I believe you. But what if everything in your power isn’t enough?”
The lump in my throat thickened more tightly with his words, but at least he’d given me something I could handle. Doubt rarely visited me, but when it did, I made sure it didn’t stick around long. I couldn’t afford that.
I’d had plenty of practice assuring others about what would happen. I hadn’t gotten as far as I had in this life by falling short on my promises.
I nodded while holding his gaze, so he would know how serious I was.
“Let’s make sure it is enough. I need to know everything you can remember about this bad man. How he sounded. What he looked like. What he said specifically. What do you remember?”
Enzo’s stare grew vacant as he slowly tilted his head.
“His voice… It sounded like someone I know, but it was all wrong. Mama recognized him. I could tell. But she never said his name. I tried to remember that voice, but I just…”
More sobs wracked his small frame.
I pulled him back into my arms.
“It's okay,” I whispered. “You did real good. You stayed safe. Now we’ll find her.”
Tony stepped back into the room.
Only then did I realize he’d left in the first place, but I felt grateful he’d given Enzo and me some privacy.
“Boss. We need to get you back to the house. The doctor’s waiting for you and the boy.”
“I don't need a doctor,” I said. “But I want him to look at Enzo and make sure he’s all right.”
Tony pointed at my arm with a brow raised.
“Hate to argue with you, but it’s best if you both get checked.”
I looked down at my arm.
Blood soaked my sleeve. My stitches had likely come undone. I didn't know if they’d broken apart in the car or if Enzo punched or clawed them open. I hadn't even noticed.
“Fine. Get a crew down here to search this place. If the attacker left anything behind that might lead us to him, I want to know about it yesterday.”
“On it.”
I straightened, picked up Enzo, and held his lanky little body against my chest as I carried him down the stairs and out to the car.
Once we were both safely belted in, I turned to ask him more questions, but stopped with my mouth open.
His hands were red, bruised, either from hitting me or from trying to punch his way out of the wardrobe. He held them clenched into fists so tightly that his knuckles were white. And the alarming shade of red had returned to his face.
They were wide now, his dark, familiar eyes, as he stared straight ahead without making a sound.
“Enzo.”
He didn't so much as flinch.
“Enzo,” I repeated, snapping once in front of his face.
Still nothing. No reaction.
I reached over his lap to feel the pulse at his neck. His heart beat a million miles a minute, and he still didn’t move, even at my touch. His skin felt clammy.
Terror struck my gut, my chest.
What if something else had happened to him?
Without warning, he sucked in a raw breath and screamed.
I leaned away from him, but he kept screaming. No words, just earsplitting shrieks as he flailed, slapping and punching and kicking against the back of the seat in front of him.
Unfastening his seatbelt as quickly as I could while trying not to take a fist to the face, I pulled him onto my lap and held him. He screamed into my ear because there was nowhere else to scream as he struggled in my arms, kicking out at anything in the way of his feet.
Until we got him to the doctor, I could only just hold him.
Tony had to yell more instructions into his phone, so those on the other end could hear him over Enzo’s screams.
I didn't give a fuck.
If this kid needed to yell, if he needed to scream and hit things, then he should do it. I understood the urge, wanting to do the same. But I had to be strong.
For him.
And for her.
When we arrived at the house, I carried Enzo straight to my office, where Bruce and the doctor waited for us. Though Enzo had finally worn himself out and now lay like a limp sack in my arms, my ears still rang. I gently put him down on the sofa.
Doc crossed the room, eyeballing my blood-soaked sleeve.
I pointed at Enzo.
“No, you’ll take care of my son first.”
“Sir, I need to assess the damage, so we don’t?—”
“Him. First,” I snarled.
Then I turned away from the fussing doctor, moved my gaze around until I found Bruce standing in the doorway.
“You were in charge while we were gone, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, his gaze dropping.
“The only way you survive the next twenty-four hours is if we get her back,” I said. “Do you understand me?”
His face paled, and he bobbed his fucking head.
“Yes, sir. I understand. I’m sorry I failed you.”
His voice carried the slightest quiver.
Good. He should be afraid.
“I don’t give a fuck if you’re sorry. Valerie is the only thing that matters.”
Bruce nodded again as he approached me.
“This came for you by courier. Ten minutes ago,” he said.
Then he handed me another goddamn yellow envelope.