Page 42 of Savage Don

“If he didn’t want me snooping around, he shouldn’t have lost his daughter.”

“She’s not lost,” Maksim reminds me. He knows the whole plan by now. I wasn’t about to keep him in the dark.

“Domenica doesn’t know that.” With a subtle tap to my nose, I turn and leave Maksim to wait out front. I’m sure he has plenty of calls to make—His bosses are all out of town, and he’s been left in charge.

But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t make time for me. We were made from the same ilk, after all, and he knows I’ll take care of him when this is all over. Not that he needs me to.

Still, it’s nice to have allies who weren’t born into royal families. I have nothing but love, respect and admiration for the Kilpatricks. But they inherited their positions. I fought for mine. So did Maksim. In that sense, we’re blood brothers.

“Who are you?”

The question comes from a jittery, fresh-faced guard standing outside of the worn-down Galli mansion. His dark eyes dart back and forth between me and the three black cars I arrived with.

He’s understandably on edge, but I no longer take kindly to not being recognized. I’ve earned the respect. And I’ve gotten used to the fear it’s supposed to inspire.

“I’m your boss,” I say, getting straight to the point. “Now, let me in.”

“You’re not Domenico Galli,” the young fool bites back. But his voice is shaky. He’s new here. Maybe I’ll spare him for that fact alone.

“Thank god for that,” I smirk. “I’m his boss.”

“He never told me about any other bosses. How—”

Before the young man can finish talking, the front door bursts open behind him and an older gentlemen in a black suit rushes out.

“Mr. Byrne. How nice of you to pay us a visit,” the new man says, desperately trying to hide the frantic fear from his voice.

That’s more like it.

“It doesn’t sound like I’m welcome here,” I sneer, glaring at the younger guard.

“Oh, don’t mind him,” the older man says. With a swift flick of his wrist, he smacks the younger guard in the back of the head. “That’s the Great Don, Ray Byrne. Show some respect, son.”

The younger man isn’t sure how to react to that, but the older man’s hand still hovers above his head, ready to lay down some more punishment, so he nods solemnly and reaches out his hand.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know. It’s an honor to meet you, Mr… uh, Great Don, sir.”

The older man smacks the younger man’s hand away from me and then thumps the back of his head one more time.

“Were you not listening?” he growls. “This is Mr. Byrne. And he’s welcome here anytime. Now, stay outside and hope that his crew doesn’t decide to teach you a lesson in respect.”

The younger man’s eyes drift over my shoulder again, and I can sense the fear in his gaze as he spots the twisted figure that is Maksim Smolov in the driver’s seat of the Bentley.

“Let the poor boy be,” I tease, looking over at the older man. “I’m sure he’s learned his lesson. Isn’t that right, son?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Byrne,” he gulps.

“Very good,” the older man grumbles. “My name is Silvio. Please, come inside, Mr. Byrne. To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Opening the front door, Silvio leads me into the foyer. The hallways here are tight and relatively soundproof, but I can still immediately hear the rushed footsteps racing about upstairs.

The Gallis are in panic mode.

“I would like to speak to Domenico,” I announce.

“I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Galli is very busy at the moment. But anything you could say to him you can tell me. I assure you, I will repeat every word like it was my own.”

“I’m not here to give him some speech,” I bark. “I’m here to help.”