Becoming her Salvation (Zanetti Famiglia Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  I like his grit, his determination, but I also know the truth of the matter. He has just as much control over this situation as I do and that’s a whole fuckload of nothing.

  ROSANA

  I watch Juarez move around the room, his hands waving in the air as he curses at Miguel for being stupid and a dumbfuck, as he so eloquently puts it.

  They are volleying back and forth, cursing and throwing insults at one another, neither of them really paying much attention to me. If I weren’t tied up, I would use this as an opportunity to escape.

  “Did you really think that you could break into the home of a high-ranking member of the Zanetti famiglia and come out unscathed?” Juarez seethes.

  “I just did,” Miguel snaps.

  Juarez snorts. “But did you?” he asks.

  They have a complete face-off moment where they just stare at one another in silence. I watch them, kind of hoping that they do this for a while.

  The longer they behave this way, the longer they argue among themselves, the less time they have to do whatever it is they have planned to do with me.

  I just hope that they do this long enough for Salvatore to find me and end them. Because while I’ve never wished death on another person, I do on Miguel. I want him to be gone, and I never want to worry about seeing his face or having to look over my shoulder again.

  If he can take me from my bedroom, what’s next? He cannot live, I cannot allow him to live and potentially take or harm our baby. I haven’t even been to the doctor yet, and he’s already causing problems.

  Miguel wants us dead. He wants to do whatever he wants to do to Gavino. What he doesn’t realize is that he will never negotiate with Gavino for anything, and he will never, not ever, take over Gavino’s territories. Gavino owns most of New York.

  “Trust me, Father, I will bring Gavino to his knees,” Miguel hisses.

  Father?

  Father?

  It makes sense, I suppose. Juarez being his father, I just honestly thought he was his uncle. I blink, looking down at my lap, wondering what other secrets Miguel has.

  Then, it happens.

  The secrets that I was wondering about. They walk through the door. At the sound of the door opening, I lift my head and open my eyes.

  It’s my boss.

  I am surprised, though should I be? I recall the conversation where he was demanding that I come into the office, telling me that I wasn’t allowed to quit. He was acting odd, he was being short with me and I didn’t understand it.

  I do now.

  He grins, flicking his gaze to Miguel and Juarez before he shifts his gaze back to meet mine. “Well, hello, look who is here all tied up and ready to use.”

  “No,” Miguel growls.

  My boss’s body jerks. He shifts his gaze back to Miguel, and I watch as his eyes narrow on him. His lips press together and I hold my breath, waiting for them to get into an argument. But when Miguel opens his mouth to say something, Juarez lifts his hand and they both snap their lips closed.

  “She is not your plaything. She is leverage. When that is figured out, or not, then you can have your argument about her. Until then, she is off the table.”

  My boss growls, his jaw clenching tightly. “I’ve been watching her strut around my office for months. Then I had to sit back while Miguel fucked her, bareback I might add and now I don’t even get a fucking taste?”

  If I weren’t holding my breath, I would gasp at his words. What the actual fuck? Miguel smirks, that cocky look crossing his face that I was so attracted to in the beginning. Now as I watch it dance over his features, I realize that he’s not handsome at all.

  He is absolutely nothing like Salvatore. Even Salvi’s cocky expressions are ten times hotter than this guy’s. How I ever found him attractive enough to sleep with, I’ll never know. He also never made me come, not once.

  Juarez clears his throat and they both stop arguing. It’s then that I realize something that I probably should have already known.

  Juarez runs this shit.

  He is totally in control of both of them mentally and physically. He is the only way I’m getting out of here alive. He is also the only thing stopping Miguel and my boss from raping and torturing me. Probably the only thing stopping my murder, too.

  Instead of watching the men in their silent stare down, I shift my focus to Juarez. I’m not sure what he wants. It can’t be to take complete control of New York, he must realize that’s impossible.

  Even if by some chance he got control of the Zanetti famiglia, Gavino is in charge of others and they will not easily fall to him, not only is he not famiglia, he’s a Libertad. He’s a complete other organization, he is nothing to them.

  “What is this really about?” I chance asking. My gaze focused on Juarez and no one else in the room.

  He arches a brow, his gaze focused on mine, and then slowly his lips curve up into a grin. Evil. If evil had an expression, this would be it, from him. He chuckles, his eyes dancing in delight.

  “You aren’t as stupid as I originally thought. You have figured something out, even if you don’t completely know what is happening, you know it’s not as simple as the naked eye would suggest.”

  Yeah, he’s right, it’s not as simple as the naked eye suggests. However, I feel like he’s giving me way more credit than he should. I am not that smart, I’ve already proven that fact to be true. I am, however, a woman who has been around Made Men here and there, I know that nothing is ever as it seems in this world.

  This—he—is no exception.

  Chapter Eighteen

  SALVATORE

  I am ready to rip every man to shreds and go in search of her myself. Gavino’s intense gaze and Arlo’s watchful eyes are the only reason that I haven’t completely gone rogue and taken off. I’m antsy though. Completely and totally ready to get the fuck out of here, pound the pavement and find my wife.

  Watching the clock, I imagine with every passing moment that she is closer to her death. I won’t let that happen, I can’t. Not again. Never again. I will kill anyone who even thinks about hurting her. I don’t care what kind of repercussions that causes and I am ready for this shit to be done.

  Just as I stand to my feet, ready to tear out of the condo, my phone rings. My cell is sitting on the coffee table and I flick my gaze over, watching it dance as it vibrates on the wood.

  Shifting my gaze to Gavino, I wait for permission to answer my own goddamn phone. I don’t know why I do it, but I do. He dips his chin, giving me that permission.

  Reaching for the device, I don’t recognize the number as I slide my thumb across the screen. Holding it to my ear, I wait for whoever is on the other end of the line to speak.

  “Salvatore,” the voice says in a deep growl.

  “And you are?” I ask.

  “Juarez,” he announces.

  I’m a bit taken aback that it isn’t Miguel, but right now it doesn’t matter. I’ll ask questions later when they’re strung up and waiting for their punishment—begging for death to take them. My fantasy is put on hold when he starts to speak again.

  “I want a sit-down with your boss,” he snaps.

  I almost say something to tip him off that we know about the money scheme, him stealing from Gavino’s offshore accounts, but I don’t. Instead, I close my eyes and I inhale a deep breath before I let it out.

  “When and where?” I ask.

  “An hour, the park where you jog.”

  Inwardly, I curse. He knows where I jog, which means he’s been watching me for more than just a few days. They waited for this opportunity, they’ve been planning it and I have no doubt that somehow, somewhere, I played right into their hands.

  “The casino,” I state.

  He chuckles. “The park or not at all.”

  “The park,” I grind out. The call ends, and I shove my phone in my pocket as I turn to face Gavino.

  “The park down the street, where I jog in the mornings, an hour. Juarez wants a meet.”

&
nbsp; Gavino nods his head, his eyes focused on mine. “He wants to see just how he can fuck us, and what we’re willing to do for our women.”

  “He isn’t fucking shit,” I grind out.

  Gavin chuckles. “You and I know this, but he doesn’t.”

  He snorts, and then lifts his hand, calling over Massimo and Arlo. Together, we devise a plan. Then, he calls Renzo. My lips curve up into a grin. Renzo is our resident hit man. The man is always on call. He costs a pretty penny, but he’s ours and he is worth every dime paid.

  I overhear Gavino explain everything to Renzo. Then he ends the call and his eyes flick to mine. His lips curve up into a grin before he speaks.

  “Renzo will have his weapon focused on Juarez the entire time.”

  “I don’t want the trigger pulled, not until I have Rosana.”

  Gavino clears his throat with a nod. “You know that we will not be doing a thing until she is safe.”

  Massimo, who has been completely silent this entire time, takes a step forward. His gaze finds mine before he looks over to Gavino.

  “Rosana will come home safe,” he announces, his voice gruff and rough.

  Gavino lifts his hand, curls his fingers around the side of his neck, and focuses his gaze on his. They watch one another in silence for a moment, passing on some kind of telepathic conversation before he clears his throat and takes a step backward.

  “Rosana will come home safe,” Gavino states on a boom.

  There is a long moment where we all stand and watch Gavino and wait for him to say something else. It’s an odd sensation, being here and waiting for him to give an order. I’m not used to it, not in my position, anyway.

  Gavino jerks his chin upward, his face set hard, every bit of the boss in this moment. Then he clears his throat and begins his announcement.

  “We will not kill Juarez today. What we will do is watch and wait. He has Rosana, but that is not all that he wants. He has an endgame, he wants this famiglia, he wants the Zanetti empire. We will not allow that to happen—I will not allow that to happen.”

  The men all let out a grunt, jerking their chins in his direction, their eyes completely focused on him.

  “So, this afternoon, we watch and wait. We don’t just watch him, we watch his surroundings. We watch everything. I need three men to get down there now, wait for him, and pay attention to everything around you. Anything and everything.”

  Valerius is the first to volunteer, and it shouldn’t surprise me. He feels bad, I know that he does. He feels guilty. Just as I do.

  Guilt flows throughout my entire being. It no longer just consumes me when it comes to Abriana, now it consumes me with Rosana. I should have been able to protect them—both of them.

  I can’t protect shit.

  I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve our baby. I don’t deserve my wife—any wife.

  Licking my lips, I make an immediate decision. I’m going to file for divorce, just as Ermanno has done. We’ll be the only two men in the famiglia to divorce our wives, to allow them to live. I hope that Rosana finds a man who can love and protect her better than I could.

  She needs to find someone better for her. Someone more deserving of her. Someone who can protect her, protect her child.

  ROSANA

  “We’ll see what your man is made of.” Juarez chuckles as he ends the call with Salvatore.

  Pressing my lips together, I don’t respond. There is nothing that I need to say. I have no doubt that I would say something that would get me in a hell of a lot of trouble, so instead, I keep my lips shut.

  I know that although Salvatore doesn’t seem like he’s in the middle of the famiglia, that from the outside he doesn’t look like he could take care of shit, but I know his heart and I am certain that without a doubt he could drop some fuckers. I don’t tell Juarez that, he doesn’t need to know.

  “Can’t wait for them to hand you over, or just plain fail.” Miguel sneers. “I’ve never seen what a baby that small looks like. I can’t wait to use your body like a science experiment.”

  My lips tremble. I can’t keep a straight face, I can’t even put on a brave face for that comment. I can’t pretend that he didn’t say what he did, that he doesn’t mean it either. I may not know him well, but I know him well enough to realize when he’s being completely serious.

  “Look, Juarez.” He laughs. “She’s scared.”

  “I mean, it’s a little weird, but I can’t deny that I want to know if it looks like the pictures you see at the clinic,” my boss chuckles.

  Tears well in my eyes. I can’t stop myself, I can’t hold it in. Tears fall down my cheeks and my body starts to shake with silent sobs.

  There is no holding it in, there is no pretending that he didn’t say it, that my boss isn’t chiming in with his own sick shit. There is just nothing that could keep me from showing my emotion at this moment, with this topic.

  They could talk about killing me all day long, about mutilating me or Salvatore, even Pippa. But my innocent child? Fuck no. Hell no. Absolutely not. This is innocence and it’s my job to protect it. It’s my job to nourish this child and bring it into the world.

  I will not be used as a science experiment to entertain them and neither will my baby.

  “Stop being sick fucks,” Juarez growls. “We’re leaving in five. I want you and that weird fuck to load the bitch up in the van. You stay with her until I signal you, understand?”

  “Then what?” Miguel asks.

  The tears stream down my cheeks, flowing with zero sign of stopping and I let them. I’m not here to be pretty, I’m not here to do anything other than be their plaything, their bargaining chip.

  I just hope to God that Salvatore and Gavino can get me out of this mess. If not, I’m afraid that Juarez may let them do exactly what they’ve described. I can’t let that happen, even in my death, I just can’t let that be what happens to me.

  A few minutes later I’m loaded in the back of a van, still tied up. Except, instead of being tied to a chair, my arms are tied behind my back and my ankles are tied together. I wiggle around a little to test out my binds to see if I can get out of them.

  I can’t.

  Pressing my lips together, I try to gauge where we’re going, but since there are no windows back here, I’m totally and completely lost. I feel like we drive around for hours, then we stop. Juarez opens the door and jumps out, but doesn’t leave right away.

  I watch as he looks in the back where I’m seated, but he doesn’t look at me. Instead, his focus flicks to Miguel.

  “You’re my son, but if you fuck this up, I will kill you, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Miguel rasps.

  “Do not touch her. If she is damaged, if she is harmed beyond repair, they will not negotiate with us. They will not hesitate to kill us.”

  Miguel snorts. Juarez arches a brow but doesn’t say anything. Only after an uncomfortable silence does Miguel speak.

  “Do you truly believe that we will survive this, anyway? That we will come out on top?”

  It’s Juarez’s turn to snort. “You do not worry about that. I have that handled. My leverage is more than some throwaway cunt. Much more.”

  Without another word, he turns and walks away. I don’t know what exactly he means, but I don’t question it either. I don’t really give a shit. I want to get the hell out of the back of this van, the hell away from these sick fuckers, and I want to go home.

  A few months ago, my home was my apartment. I haven’t been back there since I ran to Salvatore’s office and to be honest, I haven’t missed it. Sure, I know that my rent is being paid and that my things are still waiting for me.

  Once this is all done, I can go back and gather everything, but I’m not sure that I want to. There is nothing there for me, nothing there for my new life. That is a life that I walked away from and although I was sad at the time, I’m not now. I love being with Salvatore and I love the famiglia.

  My entire life with Salvatore was everything th
at I never wanted, and yet, it’s all I want back. He is all that I want back. Even when he comes home too late, totally trashed.

  Even when he gets in a mood and doesn’t say much. I don’t mind it because I know that he’ll come back to me, he’ll smile at me and he’ll make everything better again.

  He is my home.

  He is where I belong.

  Where I’ve always belonged. Once again, for the second time in my life, he’s saved me. First from my aunt, and then from Miguel by marrying me. I am confident that he will come through for a third.

  Chapter Nineteen

  SALVATORE

  The park is pretty empty, I’m glad. The last thing I need is for some kind of shoot-out to happen and some innocent get hurt because of it. There will be no paying off the police if that shit happens. And with so many witnesses, I highly doubt I would be able to get any of us off in court.

  There are at least five men sitting around, strategically positioned and ready to end this cocksucker as soon as he shows even the least bit of aggression. Even a twitch of a finger will send him to his early grave.

  “Let me talk, after all, he’s here for me,” Gavino murmurs as a man heads directly for us.

  I don’t recognize him, but judging by the way Gavino is watching him, this must be the leader. This must be Juarez. He’s a little shorter than me, but with his chest puffed out, he looks like he’s trying to be the biggest, baddest fucker in the world. But there’s the problem—he’s trying.

  Gavino doesn’t try, he doesn’t have to, he and everyone else knows that he’s the baddest fucker in the world. Same goes for the rest of the Made Men standing around me. Nobody here has to try to be anything, we just fucking are.

  “Gavino Santoro,” he booms.

  Glancing around, I look to see if anyone is watching us. Thankfully, the few people that are in the area are just going about their business, paying us zero attention. I lick my lips, pressing them together as I try to keep from saying or doing something completely against Gavino’s orders.