His uncle hadn’t been the one to put all of this in place. Someone else had. They’d gone to Miceli knowing his weakness for women, his cruelty and his obsession with money. He hated being second to Giuseppi. This trafficking operation had been up and running long before Miceli had joined. Valentino could take down Miceli, but he wouldn’t know which of the other families was involved if he simply shut down Miceli and his cousins’ involvement.
Val slipped into the back seat of the car that was to take him to the next raid. Once the door was closed, he pressed his fingers to his eyes. His temples were pounding. The headaches were coming back. They’d started when Emmanuelle had left him, and he’d felt as if he’d lost her for good. Now he knew it was because he felt as if no matter what he did, it was never going to be enough. He couldn’t stop the flow of children from getting to the depraved wealthy, those above the law who could buy them.
“Miceli’s going to be pissed.” There was satisfaction in Dario’s tone.
“Yeah. We have to take the victories where we can, I guess,” Val said without opening his eyes. “I don’t want Emme to be at the club.”
“You know she’s going to be there, Val.” Dario’s voice was back to no expression. “She’s tough, and she won’t hold you responsible for anything she sees there. She knows you’re not into the shit she’ll see in the dungeon. Her job, her family’s job, is to find the women and hopefully the kids so we can burn that place to the ground.”
Val stayed silent while he thought that over. He felt for Dario. Sometimes there was no talking to him, no reaching out. Dario had been fucked over by Miceli. It didn’t matter that the man was his father; Miceli didn’t give a shit about him. It hadn’t occurred to him that his son would become hard and dangerous and would have been an asset to him. Now it was too late.
“We’ll shut them down, won’t we, Dario?” Val murmured.
“Damn straight we will,” Dario answered. “And find out who’s behind this. We’ll shut them down, too.” He gave a little snicker. “Who would have thought we’d turn into the fuckin’ good guys?”
“That is a little ironic, isn’t it?” Val opened his eyes to look at his cousin. “And a bit on the scary side.”
“I don’t know how to do ‘good guy.’”
He grinned at Dario. “There’s no ‘good’ for you. That’s just taking it too far.”
The car pulled to the curb, and Val and Dario looked out the window. The strip club was across the street. In the early morning hours, the building appeared deserted. There were few cars in the lot. Marge’s vehicle was there, but she had an apartment on the premises. Valentino and Dario had the complete layout of that luxury apartment. It looked like the replica of a penthouse suite at one of the finest luxury hotels in Chicago, which was such irony given the stark contrast of the conditions the women were taken to when kidnapped and sold at auctions.
Those women had a concrete floor with a drain to relieve themselves, a tiny cell, barely large enough to turn around in, no blankets, no warmth or air-conditioning, no clothes, no privacy, and they were beaten, subjected to electrical shock, raped, brutalized in every way, while Marge lived above them in luxury, listening to her music and entertaining her friends with the finest wine and the best food money could buy.
“Marge has a tremendous amount of security in her clubs. Cameras everywhere. She thrives on blackmail,” Dario said, his dark gaze on her car.
“The Ferraros are good at what they do. Once they’re in, Bernado will do the rest.”
“Did you ever think the Ferraros would be our allies?” Dario asked.
Val shook his head. “Honestly? I thought Stefano would try to kill me, not help me. He loves Emmanuelle. I’m not nearly good enough for her.”
“You’re good enough for her.”
Dario startled him with the proclamation. It wasn’t something Dario did often. They didn’t show their affection toward each other often. They weren’t like that, even though they were closer than most siblings. Val didn’t make the mistake of looking at Dario. He kept his gaze fixed in the parking lot.
“Emme heard what I said to Marge that night. About her not knowing anything about sex. Her mother had already done such a number on her, making her feel worthless. Marge has experience and confidence. She could so easily tear Emmanuelle apart. This entire scenario is fucked up, Dario.”
He let the worry show, even though both Luca and Quintu were in the front seat. The privacy screen was down, but they still might have overheard. He usually was more cautious. He wanted Dario’s help with Emme, just in case something went wrong. His gut was telling him things could go south in a heartbeat.