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I sit in my car in the garage, my hands shaking, and wonder how many people will pay for my choice to get involved with Marco Santori.
Chapter 22
Marco
Surviving Lucia’s first day back at Ashford County has proven difficult. I spent the entire morning trying not to call her, and I picked up the phone about half a dozen times before telling myself to trust this woman. If anything goes wrong, then Dani, the guard I dispatched to keep an eye on her, will let me know.
By three in the afternoon, I’m in Enzo’s office reviewing the latest intelligence on Bruno’s activities, hoping that hunting the man who threatened my fiancée will quiet the noise in my head.
The padrino’s personal office is designed to remind people they’re in the presence of real danger. When the office is silent like today, with the heavy air weighed down by Enzo’s gaze, people worry even more.
He doesn’t keep me waiting. He doesn’t even offer coffee or the usual casual nod of respect he gives men who’ve earned it. He only gestures to the chair across from his desk and waits until I sit. As I do, the leather creaks beneath me.
“You’re distracted.”
It’s not a question, and I don’t treat it as one. Instead, I walk him through the status of our hunt for Bruno.
“Billy traced Clinica Caritas’s financials to three shell companies in the tristate area. Nico’s watching two of them. The third went dark forty-eight hours ago, which means Bruno’s either shutting down or relocating. Port authority flagged a refrigerated container matching his organ transport specs. It will arrive in Newark in six days.” I keep my voice level. “We’re close.”
“I’m not talking about operations.” Enzo’s stormy gray eyes are unreadable. “I’m talking about you and the doctor. My head of security can’t afford any distractions. You’re the last line between this family and its enemies, and I don’t need your head in the clouds.”
The words hit me like precise punches. My jaw tightens, but I don’t respond because he’s right.
“I’ve been where you are.” Enzo’s voice softens fractionally, showing the barest crack in his armor. “When Sophia first came into my life, I couldn’t function or think straight. Every decision was filtered through my fear of losing her, and I calculated everything around keeping her safe.”
He rests his elbows on the desk. “The difference is that I realized what I was getting into and dove in headfirst. Bruno won’t grant you a single second’s reprieve just because this woman occupies your mind. He’ll use it against you.”
“I’m aware.”
“Are you?” Enzo studies me, his eyes missing nothing. “From where I’m sitting, you’re letting what you feel for her drive decisions that should be tactical. You’re confused, Marco, and confused soldiers get people killed. They lose themselves, their teams, and the women they can’t decide whether to protect.”
The accusation hangs in the air between us, thick as smoke.
“I need you to ask yourself a question.” Enzo’s voice is gentle now, which only emphasizes his message. “Do you truly feel love? It’s not the first time men who live the life we do have mistaken their gratitude, their obsession, or the intensity of shared danger as love. You need to know.”
“I know.” My hands curl into fists on my thighs. “It’s love.”
“Then you have a choice to make.” Enzo settles back, the leather sighing beneath him. “I know what’s going on in that head of yours.” His voice takes on the weight of a man delivering a verdict he didn’t want to give. “You’re thinking I’m the wrong person to say this, given Sophia. And you’re right. It makes me a bit of a hypocrite, but it’s my job to take care of the entire family now, and it’s my job to ask you these things.”
He reaches for the glass of whiskey on his desk, turns it once without drinking, and sets it down again. For a moment, the padrino disappears and what remains is a man who has sat exactly where I’m sitting. “When they came for Sophia, they were after leverage. That’s manageable. You can negotiate leverage, take it off the board, or maneuver around it. Bruno’s case is different. He’s not using Lucia as a bargaining chip. He’s out to hurt you, and he’ll use her or even kill her if that’s the only path to you. You’re the target, and the most direct route runs through the woman you care about.”
That truth sinks into my chest like a stone I can’t lift. “Then I’ll deal with this and stop him.”
The look on Enzo’s face doesn’t change. “If you’re going to do that, I need you fully focused. It’s not about choosing between her and your duty, Marco. But you have to ask yourself the hard questions. Like the fact that she could be safer away from you. She’s already raised eyebrows by digging into her brother’s death. You’re helping with that, and you should consider that being by your side might make her an even bigger target.”
The weight of it drops onto my shoulders. “What are you asking me to do?”
Nico strides in without knocking with his tablet in hand and his face tight. I’ve only seen him like that twice before. Both times, someone had died.
“Jenna Chase is missing.” He doesn’t ease into it. “Someone grabbed her from her apartment within the last two hours. Phone off. No sign of forced entry, which means whoever took her had keys or someone let them in.”
I’m on my feet before he finishes. “Bruno?”
“His people have been watching the hospital for weeks, mapping patterns and identifying routines.” Nico flips his screen toward me, showing surveillance logs and a timeline. “They were waiting for Lucia to come back. And the day she does, they abduct her closest friend. This isn’t random. It’s a message.”
Enzo rests his forearms on the desk. “He’s telling you he can reach anyone, anywhere. Lucia. Everyone she cares about. No one is off-limits.”
The roaring in my ears drowns out everything except one thought. “Where is Lucia right now?”
