Valentino and Emmanuelle immediately rolled toward cover as quickly as possible. The alcove was small, but a thick wall would block the shooter’s sight to them. Emmanuelle hadn’t made a single sound. His anger was back. The idea that someone would want to kill her because of him was almost more than he could stand. The sidewalk had little pebbles on it, and they dug into their backs. He couldn’t protect her from that, and it seemed a silly inconvenience to even consider when they were being shot at, but he couldn’t help what went through his mind.
He managed to pull out his phone to text Stefano. He wanted the shooter. Between Dario and Stefano, they would get him. They remained in the alcove for what seemed like hours. In reality, it was only twelve minutes, but it was twelve minutes too long. He got the all clear the same time Levi and Axel did from Dario. Then he got a second one from Stefano.
“You can’t say life with me is dull,” he said as they stepped into the elevators. He found himself holding his breath. Waiting. Beside him, Levi and Axel seemed to do the same.
For the first time since the incident, Emmanuelle looked up at him. He should have known better. Her eyes were bright. Clear. Shining. Her smile lit up his world. She leaned into him, fitting her body against his.
“I never did like dull, honey. You know that.”
Jason Caruso wanted his own money in order to get out from under his father’s thumb. Emmanuelle discovered his secrets easily enough because he wrote his story down like a movie script, determined one day to produce it for the big screen. He was going to not only produce it, but play the leading role. He had started off small enough, exchanging his identity with Marco’s to see if he could pull it off. He didn’t want to get in trouble when he was talking a girl into paying off his debts for him with her body. Marco had so much more pull than he did. It amused him to think that Marco might wonder why a girl would be so angry with him later when he didn’t call her again after she did so much for him.
In college, he began really thinking about how he could make his own money without relying on his father for support. There were always assholes who wanted women, or younger girls or boys. He had his ear to the ground. They just needed the right supplier. He had to be careful, and he couldn’t ever get caught.
Emmanuelle read through the script that Jason so meticulously worked on, detailing with excruciating care how he’d built himself an empire in sex trafficking to rival anyone. It was slow going, cultivating and developing the various networks. He always used Marco Messina’s identity if he had to meet in person. It was so much more powerful to be a Messina than a Caruso, and those he spoke with were both impressed and scared.
He hadn’t left his father’s employ because he could use the shipping lines and ports. The trucking companies. It felt good to be putting one over on his father, who thought him weak for wanting to be in acting. Acting turned out to be his greatest asset. Even now, his family still made fun of his dreams of acting in theater and movies. Little did they know that he had amassed a fortune of his own, one he had no intention of sharing with them—and he’d done so through his acting.
Emmanuelle was shocked at how detailed Jason’s script was. She supposed anyone finding it would never guess it was real, that rather than being an actual documentary, they would believe it was pure fiction.
Jason wasn’t doing business with any family other than the Saldis in Chicago. He had partners in New York, Ohio, Texas, Florida, Alabama and Kentucky. He had been very busy. It took Emmanuelle days to find the various ties to each of those places and who they were. Jason’s script was right on his desk. She had to follow him, staying in the shadows, changing places with her brothers at times to take breaks. Eventually, they pieced the entire network together on a large board in Valentino’s suite.
They had to get proof for Val to supply, first to Arsenio Caruso and then to the heads of the families. He would give Arsenio the evidence against his son just before he would deliver the proof to the heads of the families. Dario would have already taken Jason into custody so Arsenio couldn’t find a way to warn him. The Ferraro family would do the rest, spreading out like the assassins they were to go after Jason’s entire network. Valentino wanted the ring dismantled and all key players dead, from the kidnappers to those driving the children across state lines.
Strangely, an obscure church was involved in the acquiring of the teens in one state, and a teen club in another. A motorcycle club, a massage parlor, even a pet shop and an ice cream shop all were involved. One by one, they sifted through the various places that lured children in. The parks parents took them to, swimming places, anywhere that was crowded and a parent could lose sight of a child even just for a moment. Sports games, shopping malls. Parents looking at cell phones. It was all so easy for the kidnappers. They had perfected their strategies.
Valentino and Dario were patient, working it all out on a board, untwisting the lines until they were smooth and they knew every route. They knew the trucks and vans that picked up and dropped off. The recreational vehicles and boats transporting and who they belonged to. The two men recognized the codes given to each trafficker and what the supplier wanted or needed.
When they were ready, the first thing Valentino did was visit Jason in the early morning hours on the day he’d called a meeting of the heads of Chicago. Jason was drinking his coffee like he did every morning, sitting back in his favorite chair on the dock with his iPad. He looked up when Valentino, Dario and Emmanuelle came striding up to him, their bodyguards moving with them.
He put his iPad down and stood, smiling in welcome. Valentino knew the fact that Emmanuelle was with him would immediately take away any worry.
“This is a surprise. And an honor.” Jason gave a charming little bow toward Emmanuelle. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Emme spent a great deal of time getting to know you, Jason,” Val said. The men with him kept walking right up to Jason. “She was with me when we found all the children Miceli and Angelo had in dog crates. All the teens Tommaso had locked up. All the women Marge had below her dungeon. She spent a great deal of time in your room with your script and then following you to all of your meetings with the people you work with. Of course, you dress up like Marco Messina, but it’s you, and we have the proof.”
The men had surrounded Jason, and now they had him bound and gagged.
“I’m meeting with the heads of the families in a couple of hours to show them that proof. I’ll give your father the heads-up so he won’t be blindsided, just out of respect. As we speak, your network is being taken down. You will be taken to a location where no one can help you, not even a higher power. I’m afraid the devil is after you, wanting you to pay for your sins, and you have quite a bit to pay for.”
He stepped back, and the men took Jason out of his sight. It was a good thing, because he wanted to sink his fist into the man’s gut. He had quite a bit to do. They’d worked hard to take this ring down and show the proof to the others. He needed to do that, not suddenly get caught up in the petty satisfaction of striking out at this poor excuse of a human being.
He glanced at his watch. The Ferraros were moving on the various branches in each state, targeting those in the highest positions and leaving enough evidence to convict others in lower positions. Once he told the other families, this was done. His position as head of the Saldi family was solidified. His task to bring down the trafficking ring was completed, and his promise to Dario and himself had been kept.