Page 85 of Enzo

“If I need help, I’ll call.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he muttered.

“Somehow I doubt that,” I retorted dryly.

We were an hour outside Laayoune, a city with a turbulent history of violence and corruption. One might not think business could flourish here, and they wouldn’t be wrong.

Unless you bribed the government officials to turn a blind eye to wrongs you were doing. Then this location, roughly an hour from the airport, was ideal. Its proximity to Europe and across the ocean to the Americas was as convenient as it was lucrative.

“How are you going to call if that fucker attacks you with his army down there?”

We were sprawled on our stomachs, looking through binoculars at the camp surrounded by barbed wire, where victims of all ages were being held captive.

“Enzo, I’m talking to you.”

“Not sure if you’ve heard of this thing called a satellite phone?”

I didn’t spare him a glance as I snapped photos of the men who were clearly in charge. I loaded the images into an app I’d built, and one by one, their names flashed across the screen. These were just minions, and what really interested me were the men and women they worked for or with in the past, and how they ended up at an organ trafficking organization.

“At least tell me your plan,” he demanded. When I remained silent, he let out a sigh. “Please tell me youhavea plan.”

“I need to talk to Atticus,” I stated, my focus now on the men I’d profiled as I stored the information in the Cloud.

“Well, you’re bound to have a talk with him if you walk in there. But you’ll also die, so there’s that.” He put down his binoculars and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Does Aunt Athena know anything about this?” I shook my head. “How about our uncle?” When I didn’t answer, he added, “Father?”

“No, nobody, and you won’t mention it. Understood?”

“Bossy since you became the head of the family,” he grumbled. “Or should I saymorebossy. Didn’t even think it possible…”

“I’m just trying to protect you and our family, Amadeo.”

“I can see that, which is why you can’t blame me for trying to do the same.”

For fuck’s sake, he was stubborn. A family trait.

I set my phone aside and turned to look at my brother. Same eyes, same dark hair. It was no surprise we were often mistaken for twins.

“Are you still mad at me for threatening Penelope?” he asked when I remained silent.

“You won’t do it again.” He nodded somberly. “Because if you do, I’ll tear you to pieces. Yes, I’ll put you back together, but after you hurt a bit.”

As if on cue, a message from my wife flashed across my phone screen.

Mia Anima: I miss you already.

My lips lifted into a smile.

Me: Miss you more. I’ll be home soon.

Mia Anima: I cooked.

Me: Without me?

Mia Anima: I didn’t burn the food, but I did forget to light the burner. I need my teacher back.

Before I could answer, she sent another text.

Mia Anima: And his boxers.