Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
STEFANO
I stared down at the security guard, hoping the lazy asshole didn’t piss himself again.
“This was forty fucking minutes ago. There’s no way he left this school without being caught on at least one camera. You’re going to find every second of that footage. Now.”
The man nodded, trembling as he righted his chair and went to work logging the video timestamps.
When he found the footage, we watched Luka drag Val into a service elevator tucked between the maintenance rooms. Then they went down another staircase to the faculty parking garage beneath the school building.
In each frame, Val looked weaker than in the one before, her feet scraping the concrete, her skin so pale. Blood dripped from her arm, leaving a dotted line in their wake.
Her blood loss concerned me. It couldn’t be sustained.
“Find the feed for the exterior camera and show me in which direction he drove away.”
As the guard worked on finding the street footage, I grabbed my phone and called Bruce.
“Did you get the address?” I asked.
“There’s no Donnie Luka in New York or New Jersey, boss. The name doesn't exist in the PD’s records either.”
I exhaled while pinching the bridge of my nose, restraining my desire to yell at him, and disconnected the call. If Bruce had something worth my time, he would have said so right away. And I didn’t have the patience for any more bad news.
I pointed at the guard with my gun.
“You. Where do they keep the personnel files here?”
“I don't have access to?—”
“That's not what I asked,” I snapped.
“Most stuff should be in the computer system. But I d-don’t have admin access.”
I aimed the pistol between his eyes and raised my brow.
“B-But the principal likes to do some things old-school. She has some paper files in her office.”
“Show me.”
“I… I can't. There’s a camera in there. I'll lose my job.”
Enzo erupted, his face red, his blue eyes turning black.
“If my mama dies, you’ll lose more than that,” he shouted.
I put my hand on his shoulder, reminding him to breathe.
He wiped at his face to hide the tear rolling down his cheek.
“I’m sorry, Enzo. Follow me,” the guard said.
The man got out of his chair and pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket. Then he led the way to the largest of the individual offices along the back wall.
Shaking violently, he failed his first three attempts to get the key into the lock. Finally, he opened the principal’s office door and made a beeline to a large filing cabinet, immediately pulling open the second drawer.
“Top two drawers are the teacher files,” he said. “But I don't see one here for Luka.”
“What?”
I shoved his stupid ass aside, and sure enough, no file for Donnie Luka existed in that metal cabinet.
Fuck. He’d used the name as a cover.
“Luka isn’t his real name, and we don’t have time for this.”
None. So I ripped all the files out of the drawer and tossed them on the floor.
“Look for his picture,” I snapped.
As I emptied the top drawer, Enzo and the guard dropped down and searched the records. Each employee file included their photo clipped inside the cover, thank Christ.
Panic rushed through my blood, making my hands shake.
The clock ticked on.
Val wouldn’t survive the rapid blood loss much longer.
I kneeled to help move the files they discarded out of the way. My son and the guard knew Luka’s face, but I didn’t have any idea what the son of a bitch looked like.
With each discarded file, tension gained strength in my gut. It squeezed my lungs, forced my heart to beat harder and faster.
Enzo’s mouth suddenly popped open wide, and he stared inside the file in his hands.
“Here it is! This is him! It’s Mr. Luka’s face, but it says his name is Donnie Cozza.”
I froze hearing the name.
The Cozza family once worked for the Capaldos.
I snatched the file and jumped to my feet. The face of the walking dead man who’d taken what belonged to me stared out from the photo. Then I grabbed my phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to Bruce with orders to pull every spec of information on Donnie Cozza and any living family members.
“How often are these files updated?” I demanded.
The guard looked up at me as he wiped sweat off his face.
“Mine’s done every year,” he murmured.
I tucked the file under my arm.
“Get the fuck up.”
He complied as fast as his clumsy, trembling body let him. He stood directly before me with his gaze on the floor.
“Look at me,” I said. “I understand keeping your position means you’ll have to inform the police that my son and I were here. You’ll call it in right after we leave. Correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Before we go, you’re going to erase all security footage with the two of us.”
I gestured toward Enzo, then to myself.
“Yes, sir,” the man repeated, nodding this time.
“And Enzo’s mother with the piece-of-shit teacher who shot her. That’s the only way you get out of here alive. Have I made myself clear?”
Again, the guard nodded, then he ran to his workstation.
Enzo and I followed and stood behind his chair. Then my son tugged on my arm.
“Why are we still here?” he asked. “We have the address. Why aren't we going to get her?”
“We have an address, son, but we can’t be sure if it’s the right one. If his name was a cover, the other details might also be fake. My men are running his real name to get the correct information.
“We're letting the men do their jobs, so when we leave, we know we’re going to the right place. I don't want to waste time driving around the city. Do you?”
Enzo shook his head. His eyes were now half blue, half black and glossy with unshed tears.
I squeezed his shoulder, wishing I knew more about how to comfort him.
“It's done,” the guard announced.
“What’s done?” I asked, to be clear.
“I erased every file from four o’clock on. It’s all gone. And the cameras are off right now. See? The screens are dark.”
“Good,” I said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
Then I cracked the butt of my pistol against his temple. One swift hit, and he went down, out cold.
Enzo stared with wide eyes at the guard lying on the floor.
“Why did you do that?” he whispered.
“He’s not dead, only unconscious for a short time. This keeps him from changing his mind before we’re far enough away that it won’t matter.”
The boy nodded. “Can we go now?”
“Yeah, we can. Tony's waiting for us.”
We made our way to the main entrance, both of us deep in our thoughts.
My men would need a few minutes to verify the correct information, and I needed a few minutes to think through what I’d learned.
My son had been attending a school where the principal willingly hired a known associate of mafia families before also hiding his identity.
On the outside, Saint Christopher Academy looked like the perfect school for a young Italian boy, but Enzo couldn't stay.
No fucking way.
He deserved better.
Enzo was strong, willful, with the raw skills, intelligence, and aptitude for success, and I would be damned if I let a second-rate school help shape him into the man he was meant to be.
In that moment, I finally understood my father. I didn’t agree with many of the things he’d done, but now I had a better grasp on what it meant to be a parent—what it meant to be angry when things weren't good enough for my child.
To some degree, I also understood my mother. She couldn't bear the pain of losing my brother, not after she'd already lost my sister to a marriage contract.
Still, I would never forgive her for leaving me the way she had, when I needed her the most, but her reasons made more sense to me now than they had previously.
Love, in all its forms, was a powerful motivator…
And a crushing goddamn weight.
My phone buzzed with a text message from Bruce.
Sending Tony directions now
Rather than replying, I called Bruce to tell him once we had Val safe, once we neutralized the threat, and I killed Donnie Cozza, I wanted the engagement announcement I’d prepared forwarded to The New York Times and The Herald .
I wanted Bruce to hear me say the words.
I wanted him to hear in my voice how important it was to me for the families and the Commission to see that Valerie Salera belonged to me, that our son would be treated as my legitimate child and heir from this day forward.
When I got into the vehicle, Enzo had already buckled in, ready to go. Tony had Bruce again, on the Bluetooth speakers, and finished punching the address into the navigation system.
He disconnected the call just as I closed my door.
“Bruce followed up on the addresses,” Tony said. “The one in his employee file was old, but we called in a favor and got the address for his mother’s house. She died a few years ago and left it to him.”
“Are we sure he’s there?” I asked.
“Yeah, we’ve got two men sitting outside now. They say it’s quiet inside, but his car’s there. There’s blood smeared on the trunk and a bloody handprint on the license plate. Want ‘em to go inside or wait for us?”
“How far away are we?”
“About three minutes.”
“Close. Good. Tell them to keep an eye on the place. Scout the area to be sure no one else is around. But make sure they stay out of sight. I don’t want him to know we’re coming.”
“You got it, Stef. I’m on it.”
Tony punched the message into his phone, then tore away from the curb.
“Tell me everything we know about this guy,” I said.
“His father worked for the Capaldo family. Some low-level soldier, but he ended up being a favorite. His mother was mentally ill. When he was a kid, the Capaldos took him in, but that ended because of an issue between him and Benedetta.
“Not sure what happened, but Don Capaldo kicked him out, then the guy went to live with his mother. She left him the house. He’s behind on taxes. Still has a mortgage. The bank's foreclosing. Several registered firearms. Short rap sheet. Stalking, sexual harassment, but nothing ever stuck.”
Tony made a sharp right turn, making the tires squeal.
“False allegations, or a coverup by Capaldo?” I asked.
“Not sure. Bruce will find out.”
Fuck. We could use more information than that, but this had to be good enough for now. I still didn’t know what we were walking into, or how mentally unstable this guy might be.
We pulled up in front of the house, and two Vignali family soldiers met us at the car.
“It’s completely quiet on the ground floor,” one said, “but we heard something come from the basement. No windows down there, so we haven’t been able to check it out yet.”
I gave a clipped nod, got out, and drew my forty-five. The gun’s heavy weight always gave me comfort.
Whether due to the weight, the cold steel, or the amount of power, holding this gun made me feel invincible. It always had.
“Tony, stay here with the kid.” I turned to the soldiers. “You two go around back and keep watch. The son of a bitch does not leave this house alive. This ends tonight, and with one hell of a message.”
“I'm coming with you,” Enzo blurted.
I stopped his door from opening.
“No, you're not. You'll stay in the car where it's safe. You’ll see your mother when I bring her out to you.”
He looked up at me with his pleading eyes.
“But what about you, Mr. Vignali? You need backup.”
Pain and joy thumped inside my chest at once.
He’d called me “Mr. Vignali” again, but he cared enough to offer himself as my backup. I reminded myself the name thing would get worked out at another time and shook my head.
“That’s not happening. You’re a child. Get in the car.”
Then I hovered over him, waiting impatiently.
If anything happened to him, I would never forgive myself. I would never willingly put him or any child in this situation.
Yes, I’d already gone too far by bringing him to the school with me, even though he proved himself to be an asset there. But in that filthy, decaying house, where a madman with a vendetta held his mother captive?
Absolutely not.
“I'm going in there,” Enzo said. “And if you wanna stop me, you're gonna have to shoot me.”
Before his words even sunk in, the boy shoved open the car door, smashing it against my leg, hopped out, and sprinted toward the house.
I bit back a curse and ran after him. My hand came down around the nape of his neck just as he opened the door.
“Get back to the car,” I growled.
“No,” he said, trying to wriggle away from my grip.
“That was not a request, Enzo.”
I wrapped my arm around his middle and hauled him back to the vehicle.
A door slammed somewhere inside the house.
We didn’t have time for this argument.
I set my son down on his feet, maybe a little more firmly than necessary, and spun him to face me before pointing at him.
“You and I will have a talk about this later, and it will not be a pleasant experience. For now, you stay behind me at all times. If anything goes wrong, you run. You find Tony. Do you understand me?”
A single nod from the boy.
This was by far the dumbest shit I’d ever done, creeping through an abandoned house with a nine-year-old on my heels and a crazy fucker hiding somewhere inside.
Definitely wouldn’t get the Father of the Year award.
But we were truly out of time.
Val needed immediate medical attention, or she would die.
So I led a cautious charge through the open front door with Enzo behind me.
A sharp cry echoed up the basement stairs into the kitchen.
“She's in the basement,” Enzo breathed.
I couldn't risk clearing the rest of the house myself.
I texted Tony.
Clear the house now
Then I met my son’s gaze.
“Let’s get down there and get our girl,” I said.