This wasn’t my fight. And I wasn’t the target.
Hero’s reaction was instantaneous—the fierce need to protect, to shield others from harm, emanated from Hero’s posture in waves as he drew his own weapon.
It was fascinating how similar he was to teenage-me—how he stepped up to protect his brother like I’d stepped up to protect my siblings.
I watched him aim and Vince spin around. Why was I even thinking about shit like that in this situation?
A shot cracked through the air. Clean. Efficient. Almost anticlimactic compared to the wet crunch of bone, the slick warmth of blood coating a person’s hands when they killed someone with their own hands.
Guns made everything so…sterile.
I watched dispassionately as Alfredo slumped forward, a perfect center mass shot.
Hero stood with his weapon still raised, shock warring with determination on his face. This moment would reshape the Salvini family dynamics completely. And I was here to witness it, to use it.
The syndicate would be pleased. This would make the Salvinis more vulnerable, more likely to agree to new alliances.
And in the end, it was just an abusive father falling at the hands of those he’d tormented.
I approached Alfredo’s body with practiced detachment, checking his pulse more out of habit than necessity. The shot had been clean—Hero had good instincts. My gaze swept the office, cataloging details while appearing casual. “Seems like I’m on the market for a new business partner,” I said, meeting Vince’s eyes. “Are you in the market for a little barter?”
The words tasted bitter. Using family against family felt wrong. But orders were orders, and as long as the syndicate’s goals aligned with my own, this was the path I’d chosen. They wanted Vince Salvini, I wanted a clean exit, and closing this mission would bring me closer to my goal.
I held Salvini’s gaze, saw realization sink in about what barter I was talking about.
He narrowed his eyes and glared at me when he realized I was talking about trading his bride and his sisters. “What do you want in exchange for the women?”
I suppressed a smile. Clever man.
“Your cooperation, and…” I hesitated, an unfamiliar sensation. Normally, I delivered my lines without pause, but something about explicitly demanding Isabella made me falter. Especially since I didn’t know Grey’s angle.
“And?” Vince’s voice was flat, dangerous.
“Isabella,” I said, watching his reaction carefully. The muscle in his jaw ticked—protective instinct warring with tactical necessity. I recognized that internal battle all too well. Hell, if anyone demanded one of my sisters, I would probably go berserk.
“You want Isabella?”
Not me, personally, though that wasn’t something Salvini needed to know. I nodded.
“Are you fucking insane?” Vince said and clenched his fist.
Probably ready to bloody my face for even daring to mention his little sister’s name. I kept my face emotionless. “It’s a simple trade, Salvini. Your cooperation and Isabella for the other women.”
“Absolutely not. Isabella isn’t some bargaining chip, you sick bastard. She’s my sister. Why on earth would you ever think I’d agree to something like this?”
I smirked. It wasn’t what Grey wanted but exactly the answer I expected from him. “And yet, here you are, desperate enough to listen to me and in no real position to put in a counteroffer. I got you by the balls, Salvini. And you fucking know it.”
His whole body tightened. “What exactly do you want with Isabella?”
I shrugged. Not a damn thing. “That’s between me and her. All you need to know is that I’m holding all the cards, and I’m your only option to see your wife again.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket at the same time as Salvini’s rang. I ignored it while Vince pulled his phone from his pocket, answered, and listened while staring back at me.
It was a short call, and his face remained relaxed and calm when he ended it. “Why should I believe you even have the girls? For all I know, you’re bluffing, using the information you gained by eavesdropping on the conversation with my father.”
I smiled. Even though Vince Salvini was a cocky asshole, I’d kind of grown to respect him.
Without breaking eye contact, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the sleek metal phone, thumbed to the live feed, showed it to him, and watched his reaction as he saw his wife pacing in her stark white room. The women weren’t being harmed, just contained.
