Emilio's waiting in my study within minutes, along with Alessio who handles our problems, when they need to disappear. I pour whiskey not because I need it, but because it helps me think when I'm planning something that requires detail.
"Status," I say.
"Four men returned to their safe house in Palermo," Antonio reports. "Same place they've been using for six months. Residential neighborhood, isolated enough."
Of course they went straight home. They think this was just intimidation, message delivered. They got no idea they're already dead men.
"Security?"
"Minimal. They're not expecting payback."
"Who else knows about today?"
"Limited," Emilio answers. "This was Rocco trying to prove himself after losing face in your office. His supervisor gave approval, but higher-ups don't know."
Good. Small problem, small solution.
"The supervisor?"
"Marino. Runs smuggling through the eastern ports."
I know Marino. Smart enough, but not smart enough to keep his dogs on a leash. Today's his fault for letting his men operate in my territory without permission.
"Here's how this works," I say, looking at each man. "Alessio, I need you to take more men and handle the four assholes who touched my property today. Clean, quiet, final. Nobody threatens what's mine and walks away."
Alessio nods. He's done this before, knows what "final" means.
"Emilio, you talk to Marino. Explain his men overstepped and there's consequences. I want him to understand my business is not his concern, and future interference gets him the same treatment as his boys."
"If he doesn't like the message?"
"Then you make him like it. Marino's reasonable—once he understands the stakes, he'll be smart."
"Timeline?"
"Tonight, for the soldiers. Tomorrow for Marino. I want this done before Madison needs to worry about retaliation."
The men exchange looks. They're not surprised. This is standard for territorial violations. But they know this one's personal.
"Boss," Emilio says carefully, "what's the official reason? In case questions get asked."
"Four men threatened a business partner under my protection, in my territory, without permission. That's enough."
It's the truth. What I don't say is that watching Madison scared, seeing her pull back from Rocco's threats, triggered something that's got nothing to do with business and everything to do with the fact that she's mine now.
"Questions?"
Silence. My men know their jobs.
"Then we're done. Report when it's finished."
After they leave, I pour another whiskey and check the tracking data from Madison's car. The GPS I had installed during her "repair" worked perfectly today with real-time location that let me arrive at exactly the right moment.
She doesn't know about the tracker. Far as she's concerned, my people just happened to be watching the men who threatened her, and her rescue was good intelligence and quick response.
Truth is simpler; I know where she is every second she's in that car. When she drives to the village, when she takes scenic routes, when she stops for photos, all tracked and monitored.
She'd be horrified if she knew. It's also why she's alive and unharmed.
