Chapter 44 Blood and Betrayal
Chapter 44 Blood and Betrayal
Jasmine:
Orders were easier than emotions.
“Search every district,” I demanded, my voice sharp, cutting through the tension in the room. “Ports, private estates, abandoned properties, I don’t care. I want every inch of this city covered.”
Orders didn’t shake, they didn’t break, they didn’t feel. The men in front of me didn’t hesitate. They nodded, they moved, they obeyed. Good, because I didn’t have time for hesitation. Not anymore.
“Alive,” I added coldly. “You find him alive.”
No one questioned it. No one dared to. Because they could see it, the shift. Elena Vorn was no longer the girl who left. And she wasn’t the same woman who came back.
This version of me? Would burn everything to the ground if I had to.
I closed the car door shut with a heavy thud. Dante got into the driver’s seat beside me, starting the engine without a word. It had gotten dark already. For a while, neither of us spoke.
I watched the city blur past outside. It was all unfamiliar yet hauntingly familiar at the same time. Italy. I had always hated how beautiful it looked at night. Deceptive, like everything else in this world.
“I don’t trust them.” My voice broke the silence.
Dante didn’t ask who. He already knew.
“Pietro and Valentina,” I continued with my gaze fixed ahead. “None of this makes sense. The lies. The timing. My father suddenly ‘gone’ the moment I arrive?”
Dante’s grip tightened slightly on the wheel.
“You’re right to be suspicious.”
I turned my head, studying him. “You knew something.”
It wasn’t a question. Dante exhaled slowly.
“There’s a reason I went to New York. But I couldn’t say it then.”
“Then say it.”
He was silent for a while, then he spoke. “Pietro found out.”
My brows pulled together. “Found out what?”
“Your identity,” Dante said. “It was discovered and you were putting your family at risk.”
“And?”
“And he gave the order,” Dante continued. “He sent men to New York to kill you.”
Of course the bastard would.
I turned fully toward him.
“No.”
Dante’s expression didn’t change.
“That’s why I came,” he added. “I couldn’t risk them getting to you first.”
My mind raced, too fast, because something wasn’t right.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said slowly.
Dante frowned slightly.
“What do you mean?”
I shook my head.
“Nobody came for me.”
His grip on the wheel tightened.
“In New York,” I continued. “No one tried to kill me. There were no attacks, no shadows lurking. Nothing.”
“How can you be so sure that no one came for you?”
“Because you did. Only you did.” I looked at him as I continued, “Think about it. If my brother really wanted me dead, there would have been bruises all over my body to back his cause.”
Dante went quiet. The pieces started shifting again, rearranging. Forming something darker, something worse.
“What if…” I started, my voice lowering.
Dante glanced at me.
“What if that wasn’t the real plan?”
His expression hardened.
“Elena—”
“What if you were the target?” I pressed. “Not to kill, but to move.”
“I don’t understand.” Dante said, confused.
My heart started pounding faster.
“They needed you out of Italy,” I said, the realisation hitting harder with every word. “Needed you gone so you wouldn’t interfere.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“And while you were in New York…”
I swallowed.
“They handled my father.” I realised, coldly.
“That would mean…” Dante started.
“They staged everything,” I finished. “The threat. The order. All of it.”
To distract him, to isolate my father. To take control.
Dante’s eyes darkened.
“Pietro…”
“And Valentina,” I added.
Because he wasn’t smart enough to pull something like this off alone. Not without her, never without her.
The realisation settled deep and heavy in my chest. This wasn’t just a power grab. This was a coup.
Just then, my phone rang, cutting through everything. Dante answered immediately, putting it on speaker.
“Talk.”
A voice came through, slightly distorted.
“Sir, we found him.”
Everything inside me froze.
“What?” I snapped.
“We found him,” the man repeated. “But—”
“But what?” I demanded.
There was a brief hesitation. Then he spoke.
“He’s barely alive.”
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
“Location,” Dante said.
The man rattled it off quickly. I didn’t wait.
“Drive.”
Dante didn’t need to be told twice. The car sped up instantly.
We got to a deserted place. A forgotten stretch of land, far enough from everything to keep secrets buried. The moment the car stopped, I was out. Running.
My heels hit the ground hard as I followed the men already gathered ahead. Then I saw him.
My steps faltered, just for a second. Because the man lying there, that broken, bloodied figure… barely resembled the father I remembered.
“Daddy…”
My voice came out softer than I intended. Weaker even. I rushed forward, dropping to my knees beside him. His breathing was shallow and uneven. His face was badly bruised. He was barely conscious.
I was angry.
“Get him up,” I snapped. “Now.”
The men moved immediately, carefully lifting him.
“We’re taking him to the hospital,” I added. “He doesn’t die here. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I stood, my hands trembling slightly as I watched them carry him toward the car.
This wasn’t over. Not even close.
This… this was just the beginning. And Pietro and Valentina were going to pay for every single drop of blood.
“Hold on,” Dante demanded to the men lifting my father up.
“What is it?” I snapped, already frustrated.
There was a piece of paper, half-hidden in Lucien’s pocket as they lifted him. Dante reached for it, pulling it out carefully.
“Elena—”
“What is it?” I sighed, bracing myself for what was to come.
He unfolded the paper slowly, then his expression shifted, darkened even. And that made my stomach twist.
“Read it,” I demanded.
He hesitated. Then he spoke.
“Come back to me…”
My breath caught.
“…my La Prescelta.”
My world stilled completely. My heart dropped because I knew that phrase. I knew exactly who it belonged to.
“So it wasn’t Pietro and Valentina all along.” Dante added, furious.
And suddenly, I wasn’t just angry. I was ready for war.