Page 107 of Contempt

Lucian chuckled dryly, and shook his head. “I didn’t have a reason to suspect that’s what it was, Renzo, but it could have been. And that alone was enough for me to make sure there was someone watching Christian Savino from the time he walked onto my son’s radar.”

Interesting.

Except …

“That tells me nothing,” Renzo said.

Lucian sighed. “I told you earlier, I might not be in the game anymore, but I am always watching from the background. I will step in should I need to in order to keep my children safe, regardless of what they want or think.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Well over three decades ago,” Lucian said, his voice lowering, “there was a man in Italy named Bruno Savino. He would have been Christian’s father, but as far as I know, he didn’t even know his father. He was kept in seclusion until he was five, and when his father died … well, I don’t know what happened after that, but he came back into the public eye.”

Renzo cocked a brow. “You’ve tracked a dead man’s family? Why?”

Lucian gave Renzo a look. “Bruno Savino kidnapped my son, John, when he was a baby. He was going after one of my brother’s wives, and my son was the way he thought to do that. Obviously, it didn’t work—John is alive, and fine. I can’t say the same for Bruno, or the small handful of men he brought along to help him.”

Shit.

Yeah, that explained a lot.

“Italians love their vendettas, huh?” Renzo asked.

Lucian scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “Usually, we make it known when we’ve got a vendetta with somebody else. We tend to … like for people to see us coming, if you get what I’m trying to say.”

He did.

So why was Christian different?

“I suppose he couldn’t get as close to your family as he did if he was going to make it known what he was coming to America for, huh?”

Lucian nodded. “And consider … the event where we killed his father happened years ago. Decades, Renzo. Our family has moved on, and we never spoke to our children about it. It was something we wanted to leave in our past. And when our sons began to step into our roles and take over our families, we promised to step back and let them have full control of the family, business, and how they wanted it all handled. It’s not a surprise that John wouldn’t recognize his name, or know what happened decades ago.”

“You know,” Renzo muttered, “this fucking information would have been great to know months ago. I could have taken care of this issue before that asshole ever got to New York, Lucian.”

“I didn’t want to step in unless I had to. Give me some credit—I couldn’t know it was a vendetta without him acting against us in some way, or making it known. And he did none of those things until it was too late.”

Renzo didn’t think so.

The second the asshole approached Lucia would have been a big red flag waving high. It was. At least, for him. He wanted to kill Christian right then, but he’d held back because he believed it was his jealousy getting worked up, and he tried not to give into his weaknesses like that.

Be a better man, and all that shit.

Fuck.

“Well, enough of what could have been done,” Lucian muttered under his breath, “because what we need to figure out right now is what we’re going to do about today. And my son in a fucking warehouse on the other side of Brooklyn. He’s got a wife and kids to get back to tonight, Renzo. And Andino, my nephew? He’s got a wife and a handful of kids, too. Why haven’t my brothers—”

“I suspect they know,” Renzo said. “But maybe they also know what you’re trying to handle here, Lucian, and they factored that in on whether or not to call you.”

Lucian scowled. “Fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, well—”

A chime echoed in the hallway, and Renzo figured out what was making the noise quickly enough when Lucian pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. The man said nothing as he unlocked the screen, and his brow dipped at whatever he saw waiting for him.

“What in the hell?”

“What is it?” Renzo asked.