Chapter 181
ENZO’S POV
The glass screen shattered into pieces right between her shoes. She didn’t even look down at it. Her entire body began to shake like a leaf caught in a bitter winter wind, her breath coming in short, terrified gasps.
“W-What do you want from me?” she whispered, her voice cracking as she pressed her back harder against the crate.
“How do you know my mother? Who… who are you?”
I let a cold smile slip onto my face, leaning closer until she was completely trapped by my shadow.
“Ah, piccola Freya,” I murmured, holding her terrified gaze.
“I know everything about you, fratellina \[little sister\]. I know that you are twenty-two years old. I know you come from that miserable, crowded neighborhood on the south side of Dallas. I know your poor mother, Camilla, lives in a tiny apartment at 1427 South Malcolm X Boulevard, and I know you have two younger siblings who depend entirely on the pennies you bring home.”
She let out a horrified sob, tears already rolling down her cheeks as she clutched her hands to her chest.
“P-Please… don’t hurt them. Please.”
“Hurt them?” I chuckled softly, straightening my dark blue jacket and pulling at my cuffs nonchalantly.
“Dio mio \[My God\], why would I want to hurt them? I am a businessman, Freya. I do not do mindless violence. I simply do my homework.”
In truth, I had spent years doing background checks on every single person who breathed the same air as Leonardo Verilli.
When I first stepped foot into this country two months ago, I thought his new manager, Vicky Grover, would be the easiest target to exploit. But after brief encounters with her, I realized she was far too guarded, too feral, and too untamed to penetrate easily.
She had a wall of iron around her, and she was fiercely loyal to Leo’s daughter.
But Freya? Freya is naive.
She’s dense, young, and overwhelmed by the high-society world she had been dropped into.
She’s the perfect tool.
To destroy a fortress like the Verilli Group, you do not attack the stone walls; you find the smallest mouse hole and slide your poison right through it.
“You see, I know about that terrible accident last winter that nearly cost your mother her life,” I continued, my voice dropping into a sweet purr as I took another step forward, completely engulfing her in the scent of my expensive Italian cologne.
“I know the doctors told you her leg is not gone forever. She can walk again, si\[ right?\] All she needs is that special orthopedic surgery in New York. But it costs sixty thousand dollars. And a girl like you…che tristezza \[what a shame\] .”
I shook my head in fake sympathy.
“You earn just ten thousand dollars a year. Even with this new job with the Verilli Group, you would have to save every single dollar for at least five long years before you could raise that kind of money.”
I let out a deep breath of concern, clicking my tongue loudly.
“Five years, Freya. By then, your mother will be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her miserable life.”
Freya’s jaw trembled, her eyes darting frantically around the empty cargo bay, looking for any sign of Vicky. But unfortunately for her, I had arranged for my men to deal with her, so, little kitten, you’re alone with the devil.
“And your little brother, Stefan,” I continued, driving the nail further into her chest. “He wants to go to college next year, no? But the tuition… it is a burden for a family with no father.”
“Stop it… please, just stop,” she wept, covering her face with her shaky hands.
I reached out, my fingers gently but firmly grasping her wrists and pulling them away from her face, forcing her to look straight into my eyes. I shifted my tone, injecting a dose of warmth into my words.
“Listen to me, ascoltami bene \[listen to me carefully\] ,” I whispered, my face inches from hers.
“I am offering you an opportunity, Freya. I can pay for the entire surgery. I can put your mother in the best clinic in the country, and I can pay for your brother’s tuition without a single worry. I can give you a life where you will never have to scrape for rent again.”
Freya swallowed hard, her mind visibly spinning into utter confusion as the temptation wrestled with her fear. She looked down at her broken tablet, then back up at me, her eyes full of tears and fear.
“W-What… what do you want me to do?”
I smiled, a dark, victorious rush of heat flooding my veins.
“Brava ragazza \[Good girl\] ,” I murmured, patting her cheek softly.
“It is very simple. I have a small assignment for you. I need to slot in a few extra crates into the cargo container.”
I paused, studying her reaction.
“Your boss knows nothing about it, and that’s why I need you to help me smuggle it in.”
Freya’s breath hitched, her eyes widening with a sudden realization.
“Is… is it something dangerous? Is it illegal? Are you smuggling weapons? Drugs?”
I burst into a fit of laughter, throwing my head back from the intensity.
Oh, stupid girl.
Even if you’re suspicious, you shouldn’t have said anything. Would I be dumb enough to tell you I’m smuggling illegal things?
I stopped laughing and quickly switched back to my serious, fake-innocent face.
“No, no, assolutamente no!” I lied smoothly, letting out a dramatic sigh as I released her wrists.
“Do not be so dramatic, piccola. It is not dangerous, and it is not illegal contraband. It is just a new batch of unregulated carbon-fiber components. The factory we ordered from here in Washington finished them late, and they were not included in the contract I signed with Leonardo Verilli.”
I paced a single step away, putting on a grand show of frustration.
“You see, if I want to add these components to the official contract now, I will have to pay the Verilli Group double the distribution fees. I have already spent millions on this merger, Freya. I cannot afford their greedy extortions. Aside from the money, the small customs documentation and federal registration would take weeks to process, and my clients in Italy need these prototypes delivered immediately. It would ruin my business.”
I turned back around, fixing her with an intense stare.
“So, I need to smuggle them in among the cargo on tomorrow’s run. It is just a little bypass of the bureaucracy. All I need you to do is find a way to lure your boss, Ms. Grover, away from the cargo staging area for exactly fifteen minutes when the vessel docks. My men will handle the rest of the job. That is all.”
“Is that… is that really all?” Freya whispered, her voice trembling as her little brain tried to process the information.
“You mean, once I do this one thing… you will do everything you promised?”
“It is as simple as ABC, fratellina,” I said, reaching into the breast pocket of my suit jacket.
I pulled out my brown leather wallet, slid a matte-black card from the slot, and held it out between my fingers.
“This is my private line. You can reach me anytime.”
She hesitated, her hand shaking timidly as she reached out and took the card, tucking it quickly into her pocket like it was a piece of burning coal.
“If you agree to save your family,” I murmured, leaning in one last time, “you will call this number. When my assistant answers, you will say the code name: Volpen\[The Fox\]. He will pass the message to me immediately, and your mother’s clinic reservation will be booked immediately the job is done.”
I checked my gold watch, a ruthless glint returning to my eyes.
“You have until the end of today to make your play, Freya. I suggest you think about your mother’s legs before you choose to be loyal to a company that views you as nothing but a replaceable servant. I hope you make the right choice.”
Just then, the sharp, distant click of six-inch stiletto heels began to echo from the far side of the warehouse yard.
Vicky is coming back.
Without saying another word, I turned on my heel, a charming smile instantly switching back onto my face as I strolled out into the sunlight, passing by Vicky with a polite nod of my head.
She watched with a suspicious expression plastered across her face as I walked away, but I didn’t let my stride falter until I was completely out of sight.
Brace yourself, Verilli. Your days of reckoning are near.