Chapter 39 Ren
Ren
I sit in the wreckage of the SUV and listen to the retreating sound of Valentino’s truck. The silence that follows is heavy and it feels like the air has been sucked out of the street. My hand is still clamped over the wound in Matteo’s leg and I can feel the weak, fluttering rhythm of his pulse under my palm. It is the only thing keeping me focused right now. The world is tilting and my vision is beginning to tunnel into a dark circle. I tell myself to stay awake because I know that if I close my eyes now I might never open them again.
I force my eyes open and look at the blood coating my hands. It is thick and dark and starting to cool in the night air. I need to move because the sirens in the distance are getting louder despite the military lockdown Valentino mentioned. I reach for the door handle and shove with everything I have left. The metal is warped from the impact and it groans against the frame but it does not budge. I growl and throw my shoulder against the door. A white-hot spike of pain shoots through my skull and makes me gag. I do it again and on the third hit the latch finally snaps. I tumble out of the car and land hard on the cold asphalt.
I stay on my hands and knees for a moment while the world spins in a sickening loop. I vomit a mouthful of bile into the gutter and wait for the stars in my eyes to fade away. I ignore the throbbing in my head and crawl back toward the rear door to check on Matteo. The tourniquet I tied earlier is still holding but the fabric is completely soaked through with red.
The sound of screeching tires echoes from the end of the block and three black sedans roar toward the wreckage. My men swarm out of the vehicles before the engines even stop running. These are the tactical teams from my private clinic and they move with a lethal efficiency. Marco is the first one to reach me. He was slumped over the wheel during the crash but he is awake now with a deep gash across his forehead that is weeping blood.
"Boss," Marco gasps as he tries to grab my arm to help me up.
"Get Matteo," I command. My voice sounds thin and distant like it is coming from another room. "Move him carefully because he has a high-caliber wound in his thigh. If that artery opens back up he is going to bleed out in minutes."
Two of my men reach into the back seat and lift Matteo’s limp body out of the twisted metal. They carry him to the lead sedan and slide him onto the leather seat while another man keeps constant pressure on the wound. They work like a machine without any wasted words or hesitation.
"Ren, you need to get in the car right now," Marco says as he holds a medical kit. "You have a massive concussion and your pupils are different sizes. You are bleeding into your eye and you need a doctor."
"I told you to get him stabilized first," I snap back at him. I stand up and have to grab the roof of the SUV to keep from falling over as the ground shifts beneath my feet. "I am fine until I know for sure that he is going to live. Check his vitals again."
Marco looks like he wants to argue but he knows that I am not in the mood for a debate. He turns to the other car and starts barking orders at the medics while they work on Matteo. Once he is satisfied that the bleeding is controlled he turns back to me. His face is pale under the yellow glow of the streetlights.
"Valentino did not just stumble upon us tonight," Marco says quietly. "I checked the dash cam before the impact happened. He blocked the roads with heavy military trucks for two blocks in every direction. He created a kill zone and he waited for us to drive right into the center of it. Nobody else could get in or out of this area."
I lean my head against the cool metal of the car and try to think through the heavy fog in my brain. The tactical part of my mind begins to churn through the facts. Valentino Russo had a gun pointed directly at my face while I was trapped in a cage of shredded steel. He could have ended the Moretti line with a single twitch of his finger but he chose to lower his weapon. He insulted me and he spoke about his sister like she was a piece of broken equipment before he just walked away into the night.
"That is the problem," I mutter to myself.
"What is the problem?" Marco asks.
"He did not kill me on purpose," I say as I look at the blood staining my palms. "Valentino is a soldier and a predator. He does not leave a job half-finished unless the job was never meant to be a kill in the first place. He wanted me to see his face and he wanted me to know exactly who has the power here. He exposed himself just to show me that I am within his reach whenever he feels like touching me."
This realization bothers me more than if he had actually pulled the trigger. If he had tried to kill me I would understand the motive perfectly. But letting me live is a calculated move that means he is playing a much deeper game. He wants me alive for a reason and that thought makes my skin crawl.
"He wants me to react to this," I realize aloud. "He is using me for something or he is using Amelia."
"Ren, the police are going to be here in less than two minutes," Marco warns as he looks at his watch. "We have to leave this street right now."
"Get in the car," I say.
I finally allow Marco to help me into the passenger seat of the sedan. The leather is soft and the air conditioning is a sharp contrast to the smell of gasoline and burnt rubber outside. I watch the wreckage of the SUV through the window as we peel away from the scene. My head is screaming and my vision is starting to tunnel again but the strategist in me refuses to let go.
Valentino is a ghost with a uniform and he thinks he is the one in control because he has the law and the guns on his side. He thinks he can play with my life like it is a piece on a board. He made a massive mistake by letting me live tonight because he thinks my interest in Amelia is a weakness he can exploit. He thinks he can break the Shadow by showing me how vulnerable I am but he has no idea that he just gave me a target.
"Boss?" Marco asks as we weave through the backstreets toward the clinic. "Are you still with us?"
"I am here," I say in a cold and thin voice. "And when I find out what Valentino is actually planning I am going to make him wish he had used that last bullet on himself."
I close my eyes as the car speeds through the darkness. The hunt has changed and it is not just about the docks or the shipments anymore. It is about a man who thinks he is a god. I am going to show him that even gods bleed when the Shadow comes for them.
The car skids to a halt in front of the private clinic and the doors fly open before Marco can even kill the engine. The white lights of the emergency entrance are blinding and they make the throbbing in my head feel like a physical blow. The medical team is already moving because they saw us coming on the cameras. They pull Matteo out of the back seat with a speed that is almost clinical and they don't waste a single second on questions. I watch them wheel the gurney through the double doors while a nurse keeps her hand pressed hard against the bandage on his thigh.
I try to follow them but the ground feels like it is made of water. I stumble against the side of the car and Marco catches my arm to keep me from faceplanting onto the concrete. He tries to lead me toward a chair in the waiting area but I shove him away with a growl. I am covered in Matteo’s blood and my suit is a shredded mess but I don't care about the aesthetic right now. I just want to know that my best friend is not going to die in a sterile room because I was too slow to react.
"Matteo is in surgery, Boss," Marco says as he stands in my way. "The doctors are moving fast and they know what they are doing. You need to sit down before you pass out and give them another body to worry about."
"I am fine," I snap but my voice sounds thin even to my own ears.
A doctor in blue scrubs approaches me with a look of stern determination. He does not seem impressed by the fact that I am the Shadow or that I could have him erased for looking at me the wrong way. He simply points to an exam table in the hallway and tells me that I am either going to sit down voluntarily or he is going to have the orderlies sedate me. I look at Marco and see the same stubborn look on his face. I let out a frustrated breath and finally sit down on the edge of the table.
The doctor starts cleaning the gash on my temple with an antiseptic that burns like hell. I don't flinch because the physical pain is nothing compared to the irritation growing in my chest. I keep replaying the encounter with Valentino Russo over and over again. He had a clear shot. He had the advantage. He could have ended me and claimed it was a lawful execution of a known criminal. But he chose to lower his weapon and walk away after insulting his own sister.
It was a message. It was psychological warfare. He didn't want my life tonight because he wanted me to feel exposed. He wanted me to know that my security is a joke and that he can pierce my bubble whenever he feels bored. He wanted the Shadow to know that he is being watched by a man who isn't afraid of the dark.
"Hold still," the doctor mutters as he starts the first stitch.
I stare at the white wall opposite me and think about the way Valentino talked about Amelia. There was no brotherly concern in his voice. There was only a cold sense of ownership. He talked about her skin being hard as granite and her personality being a liability. I realize in that moment that Amelia is no longer just a sister to him. She is a piece of the Russo legacy that he thinks has been stained by my presence. In his eyes, she is a problem that needs to be solved or removed entirely.
My phone starts vibrating on the metal tray beside my leg and the sound echoes in the quiet hallway. I look down and see the caller ID. It is my father. I feel a chill that has nothing to do with the air conditioning. My father does not call me at this hour unless the world is on fire. It means the news of the crash and the military blockade has already reached the upper levels of the organization.
I answer the phone on the third ring and I don't even get a chance to say hello. My father’s voice is sharp and it is filled with a fury that he usually keeps well-hidden behind his diplomatic mask.
"Tell me why military vehicles were seen surrounding one of our cars in the middle of Verona tonight," he demands. "The police chatter is a mess and there are reports of gunfire in a residential district. Are you trying to bring the entire Italian Army down on our heads?"
"It was Valentino Russo," I say. I keep my voice controlled despite the doctor pulling a thread through my skin. "He blocked the roads and staged a hit. He wanted a conversation."
The line goes very quiet. My father is a man of strategy and influence and he knows exactly who Valentino Russo is. He is not just another rival mobster. He is a decorated officer and the son of a General and not just any General but General Russo, the one person who has been after the Moretti family fir years. He is the kind of enemy that you cannot simply shoot and bury in a field without starting a national crisis.
"If the military becomes involved in this war, we will lose everything we have built," my father says after a long pause. His voice has lost the edge of anger and it is now replaced by a cold, calculating fear. "This is a political disaster in the making, Ren. You need to pull back."
"The war already started tonight," I respond calmly. "Valentino made sure of that when he shot Matteo. He isn't following the rules and he isn't waiting for a formal declaration. He is hunting me."
"Fix this," my father says. "Before the General decides to make this personal. I do not care how you do it, but keep the Russo name out of the headlines."
He hangs up without another word. I set the phone back on the tray and look at Marco. He has been watching me the whole time and he can clearly tell that the conversation did not go well.
"What did the big boss say?" Marco asks.
I ignore the question because I am already moving on to the next phase of the board. The doctor finishes the last stitch and tells me to stay seated for twenty minutes. I stand up immediately and start pulling my ruined shirt back together.
"I want every known movement of the Russo family tracked starting right now," I tell Marco. "I want to know where Valentino is stationed and where he sleeps. I want a list of every man on his private detail and I want to know who he meets for coffee and who he trusts with his secrets."
"Are we hitting him?" Marco asks as he pulls out his own phone to start the process.
"No," I say. "Not yet. I need to understand the board before I make a move. He thinks he can play with my head but he is about to find out that I am a very fast learner."
I walk down the hallway toward the operating room. The red light above the door is still glowing which means Matteo is still under the knife. I lean against the wall and wait. The adrenaline is finally starting to wear off and it is being replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. The silence of the clinic feels heavy and it smells like floor wax and old blood.
Marco walks over and stands a few feet away. He looks at the bandage on my head and then at the floor. "You should get some rest, Boss. You can't do much for him while he's in there. I can stay and watch the door."
I look at the red light and then back at Marco. I think about Valentino’s smirk and the way he tucked his gun back into his holster like I was nothing more than an afterthought.
"Valentino Russo wanted my attention," I say quietly. I feel the darkness of the Shadow settling back over me like a heavy cloak. "Now he has it."
I stay right where I am. I am not going anywhere until the light goes out and the door opens.
I am going to dismantle Valentino Russo piece by piece until there is nothing left of him but the uniform.