Chapter 32 Ren

Chapter 32 Ren
Ren

I stand in the middle of the bridge and watch the taillights of the silver sedan disappear into the darkness. The smell of burnt rubber and gunpowder hangs heavy in the air. My lungs burn. My heart is a drum beating against my ribs. I look down at my hands. They are covered in blood. Some of it is mine. Most of it belongs to the man whose throat I just crushed.

"Ren, we have to move," Matteo says. He is walking toward me. His shoulder is soaked in red. "The police will be here in minutes. The gunfire was too loud."

"I don't give a damn about the police," I roar.

I turn on him. The rage is a living thing inside me. It is a white-hot flame that licks at the back of my throat. I grab Matteo by the front of his shirt and shove him against the side of the mangled SUV.

"They took her, Matteo," I hiss. I lean into his space. I want to break something. I want to break everything. "They took her right in front of us. How did they get that close?"

"There were too many of them, Boss," Matteo says. His voice is tight with pain. "It was a professional hit. They knew the route. They knew the car was armored."

"I don't want excuses!" I bark. I let go of him and kick the door of the SUV. The metal dents under my boot. "I want her back. If so much as a hair on her head is touched, I will burn this entire city to the ground."

"Ren, calm down," Matteo says. He reaches out a hand. "We need a plan. We can't help her if we're dead or in a cell."

"Don't tell me to calm down," I snap. I point a finger at his face. "Do not use that tone with me. Not tonight. Not ever."

I pace the length of the bridge. My mind is a chaotic mess of images. I see Amelia scrambling over the seats. I see her firing that submachine gun like the soldier she is. I see the flash-bang. And then I see the man dragging her away. He touched her. He put his filthy hands on my her.

I stop pacing and look at the shredded tires. I look at the bodies littering the pavement. My expression turns lethal. The businessman is gone. The billionaire has left the building. There is only the man who rules the shadows of Verona left.

"Get the secondary car," I order. My voice is cold now. It is the sound of a falling guillotine. "Call the cleaners. Tell them to scrub this bridge until it looks like a postcard. I want every shell casing accounted for."

"Where are we going?" Matteo asks. He is already on his phone, barking commands to my security detail.

"The base," I say. I walk toward the edge of the bridge and spit into the dark water. "We are going home. I am going to find out who authorized this. I am going to find out who those mercenaries work for. And then I am going to show them exactly why people are afraid to speak my name in the dark."

Matteo nods. A black sedan screeches to a halt at the end of the bridge. Two of my men jump out and open the doors. I slide into the back seat. I don't wait for Matteo to sit down before I start talking.

"Drive," I tell the driver. "Fast. If you hit a red light, go through it. If a cop follows us, lose them."

The car peels away. The tires scream against the asphalt. I lean back and close my eyes for a second. I can still smell her perfume lingering on my shirt.

"I've already alerted the tech team," Matteo says from the front seat. He is holding a cloth to his shoulder. "They are pulling every CCTV feed from the bridge to the city limits. We will find that sedan, Ren. I promise."

"Promises are cheap, Matteo," I say. I stare out the window. "Results are the only thing that matters. I want a list of every mercenary group operating. I want to know who has been buying high-grade tactical gear in the last month. I want names. I want addresses."

"You think it was the Minister?" Matteo asks.

"No," I say. I think back to the man's face in the club. "The Minister is a coward. He doesn't have the stones for an ambush like this. This was a move by someone who isn't afraid of me. Someone who thinks they can negotiate with me using Amelia as leverage."

I let out a dark, sharp laugh. It has no humor in it.

"They made a mistake," I whisper. "They think she is my weakness. They don't realize she is the only thing that was keeping me civilized."

We reach the outskirts of the city. The car turns into an industrial park that looks abandoned. We drive toward a massive warehouse at the end of a dead-end street. The gates open automatically. We roll inside and the heavy steel doors clank shut behind us.

This is my world. This is the heart of the Moretti empire. The walls are lined with monitors. There are racks of weapons that could arm a small nation. My men are everywhere. They are silent. they are efficient. They see the blood on my face and they look away. They know better than to speak to me when I look like this.

I jump out of the car before it even fully stops. I storm toward the center of the room where the tech lead is sitting.

"Tell me you have something," I growl.

The man looks up. He is pale. He starts typing furiously. "We tracked the sedan for three miles, Boss. Then they pulled into a parking garage and switched vehicles. We lost them in the blind spot near the docks."

I slam my fist onto the desk. The monitors rattle. "Find them! Use the satellite. Use the infrared. I don't care if you have to hack the Vatican. Find that girl!"

"We're trying, Ren," the man says. His voice is trembling.

"Try harder," I hiss.

I turn to Matteo. He is being patched up by a medic. I ignore the blood. I ignore the fact that he is my oldest friend.

"Get the heavy weapons ready," I say. "And get the interrogation room prepared. We are going to capture one of their scouts. I know they left someone behind to watch us. They always do."

"Ren, you need to sit down for a minute," Matteo says. "You're bleeding from your forehead."

"I'll sit down when she's safe," I retort. I grab a glass of water from a nearby table and throw it against the wall. The glass shatters into a thousand pieces. "I'm going to teach them a lesson, Matteo. I'm going to show them that you do not touch what belongs to Ren Moretti. I'm going to make them wish they had died on that bridge."

I walk over to a weapon rack and pull out a custom handgun. I check the action. It is smooth. It is perfect. I feel a cold sort of clarity settling over me. The fury is still there, but it is more focused now.

Amelia is a soldier. She will fight. She will hold out as long as she can. But she is wounded. She is exhausted. And she is in the hands of people who don't care about her rank.

"Hang on, Amelia," I whisper to the empty air. "I'm coming for you. And heaven help anyone who stands in my way."

I turn back to the monitors. I am ready for war. I am ready to tear this city apart brick by brick until I find her. And when I do, the streets will run red with the blood of the men who thought they could take her from me.

I walk to the back of the warehouse where the light is dim. I need to think. My brain is a mess of static and fire. I pull off my ruined suit jacket and drop it on the floor. The silk lining is stained with road grime and blood. I look at my reflection in a dark window. My face is a mask of shadows. I look like the monster people whisper about.

Matteo walks up behind me. He has a clean bandage on his shoulder. He holds out a fresh shirt and a bottle of bourbon. I take the bottle first. I don't bother with a glass. The liquid burns my throat and settles in my stomach like lead. It doesn't help. Nothing helps.

"The tech team found the second car," Matteo says. His voice is cautious. He knows how close I am to the edge. "They dumped it near the old cannery by the water. It was wiped clean. Professional job. No prints. No DNA."

"They are trying to be clever," I say. I hand the bottle back to him. "They want me to chase my tail. They want me to waste time looking at empty cars while they move her."

"We have teams at the airport and the train stations," Matteo says. "Nobody leaves the city without us knowing."

"They aren't taking her out of the city," I say. I turn around and face the room. My men are standing at attention. They are waiting for the word. "She is the bait. You don't take the bait away from the trap. They are holding her somewhere close. They want me to come to them."

I walk over to the main tactical table. I look at the map of Verona. I see the red dots marking our properties. I see the blue dots marking the government buildings. I ignore all of them. I look at the grey areas. The places where no one goes. The places where the law doesn't reach.

"Check the private medical clinics," I command. I point to a sector near the northern hills. "Amelia is still recovering from a sedative and a wound. They need to keep her stable if they want to use her. They won't take her to a basement. They will take her somewhere slightly accessible."

"On it," Matteo says. He starts barking orders into his headset.

I feel a vibration in my pocket. I pull out my phone. It is an unknown number. My heart stops for a single beat. I answer it on the third ring. I don't say hello. I wait.

"You have a very brave woman on your hands, Mr. D'Angelo," a voice says. It is a man. He sounds calm. He sounds like he is enjoying himself. "She bit one of my men. He needed stitches."

I grip the phone so hard the screen begins to crack. I force my voice to be steady. "If you hurt her again, I will find everyone you have ever loved. I will make you watch while I take them away. Do you understand me?"

The man laughs. It is a thin, wheezing sound. "Threats are so boring. Let's talk business. You have something I want. I have something you want. It is a simple exchange."

"I don't negotiate with ghosts," I say. "Tell me who you are."

"You know who I am," the voice says. "Or at least, you know who I work for. We want the land permits. The ones the Minister was going to give you." How the fuck did they even know about that? I don't bother to ask them, though. "Hand them over and the girl walks. Keep them and she becomes a permanent resident of the river."

"I'll give you the permits," I say immediately. I don't care about the land. I don't care about the money. "I want to hear her voice. Now."

There is a pause. I hear muffled movement. Then I hear a sharp intake of breath.

"Luca?"

It is her. Her voice is weak. It is shaky. But the fire is still there.

"I'm here, Amelia," I say. My chest feels like it is being crushed. "Are you okay?"

"Don't give them anything," she says. She sounds like she is spitting the words. "Luca, don't you dare—"

The phone is pulled away. I hear the sound of a slap. A heavy thud. Then silence.

"You have one hour," the man says. "I will send you the coordinates. Come alone. If I see a single one of your security, she dies."

The line goes dead.

I stare at the blank screen. The rage is gone. It has been replaced by something much worse. It is a cold, calculated hunger for vengeance. I turn to Matteo. He saw my face. He already has his gun out.

"They slapped her," I say. My voice is a whisper.

"We'll kill them all, Ren," Matteo says.

"No," I say. I walk toward the weapon locker. "You will stay here. You will coordinate the backup. I am going alone. Just like he asked."

"Ren, it's a trap," Matteo says. He steps in my way. "They'll kill both of you the moment you show up."

I look at Matteo. I let him see the monster in my eyes. "They think they are trapping a billionaire. They don't realize they are inviting the devil to dinner. I want the heavy armor. I want the thermal vision. And I want the silenced sniper rifle."

I spend the next twenty minutes preparing. I put on a high-grade vest. I check my blades. I load my magazines with hollow-point rounds. Every movement is fluid. Every movement is a promise of death. I don't think about the risk. I only think about the sound of that slap.

I walk out to the garage. I pick the fastest car I own. It is a silver interceptor with a modified engine. I get behind the wheel and wait. My phone pings. A map appears on the screen. An old warehouse near the railway tracks.

I start the engine. It roars to life. It sounds like a beast waking up. I pull out of the garage and into the night.

The city is a blur. I drive like a madman. I weave through traffic. I ignore the sirens in the distance.

I reach the industrial district. The warehouses are like giant tombstones. I kill the lights a block away. I roll to a stop in the shadows of a brick wall. I get out of the car and move through the darkness.

I see the building. It is a rusted shell of a place. There are four guards at the main entrance. They are holding rifles and look bored.

I pull the sniper rifle from the bag on my back. I set up on a pile of debris fifty yards away. I look through the thermal scope. I see the heat signatures. Four outside. Six inside. Two in the center room. One of them is sitting down. That's her.

I take a deep breath. I let it out slowly. My finger curls around the trigger.

"I told you I was a fan of destruction," I whisper.

I pull the trigger. The first guard drops without a sound. The second one doesn't even have time to look around before a bullet finds his throat. I move with a speed that shouldn't be possible for a man my size.

I am at the door in seconds. I don't use the handle. I use a small explosive charge. The door vanishes in a cloud of splinters and smoke. I step inside.

The room explodes into chaos. A man rushes me from the left. I don't bother using my gun, instead, I drive my knife into his shoulder and twist. He screams. I use his body as a shield as I fire into the room. Two more men go down.

I see a man standing over Amelia. I have a feeling He was the one who called me. He has a gun to her head and he is shaking. He didn't expect me to be here so fast. He didn't expect me to come in shootinga and dropping his men like flies.

"Stop!" he screams. "I'll kill her! I swear to God!"

I stop. I lower my gun. I am covered in blood and breathing hard. I look at Amelia. She is tied to a chair. Her lip is cut. Her eye is starting to swell. But she is looking at me with a look of pure defiance.

"You're late," she says.

I smile. It is a terrifying sight. "I had to find a parking spot."

I look at the man holding the gun. He is terrified. He realizes he has made a very big mistake.

"Let her go," I say. "And I might let you die quickly."

The man pulls back the hammer on his gun. His finger is trembling on the trigger. One wrong move and it all ends.

I wait. I watch his eyes. I wait for the blink.

The world slows down. I see the sweat on his brow. I see the way his grip tightens. I see the moment he decides to pull the trigger.

And then I move.