Chapter 82– Finish What Started A Long Time Ago

Chapter 82– Finish What Started A Long Time Ago
Lucia’s POV

Gabriel turned to leave, like we’d just finished some sick business deal. Like that was it.

I took a shaky breath, the taste of smoke and adrenaline still coating my tongue. “Wait—” My voice cracked. “What about my father?”

He paused mid-step, glancing over his shoulder with a flicker of amusement. “You really think you’ll be seeing him anytime soon?”

My heart stuttered.

“We had a deal,” I said, louder this time, desperation creeping in. “I gave you the drive.”

He smiled, slow and cruel. “And I didn’t kill him. Yet.”

Yet.

I took a step forward, fists clenched. “Where is he?”

“Don’t bother,” he said, voice like ice. “You won’t be seeing him for a long time.” Then he turned and walked away without a glance back.

A low growl of an engine caught my ear. I turned just in time to see headlights flare in the distance. A black van, no plates, speeding off down a dirt road that cut through the trees behind the warehouse. The door swung open, and for a split second, I saw a figure inside—slumped, head bowed, bound.

“Dad…” I whispered, taking a shaky step forward.

But the van door slammed shut immediately Gabriel entered.

And then, like a slap to the face, it sped off, tires screeching against the cracked pavement.

A scream clawed its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down like poison. It wouldn’t help. None of this would help.

And Gabriel knew that.

He knew I couldn’t chase the van in time. Knew I was stranded.

It was better than the death I’d braced for. And I should’ve chased after him—screamed, demanded to see my father. Anything but stand there, frozen and useless.

But my legs wouldn’t move. All I could do was watch the taillights vanish, carrying the only family I had left.

Why did I think I could trust him? And now I had nothing… no plan, no leverage, just a ruined scheme and a hollow chest.

The truth was ash in my mouth. And I was completely alone.

——————-

Smoke stung my nostrils the moment I neared the street where our house once stood.

At first, I thought it was a cruel trick of the wind, but no, The air was thick with it. Acrid. Black. Poisoned with the smell of ruin.

As soon as the car pulled over, I threw the door open and stumbled. The front yard glowed with the dying light of embers. Fire trucks lined the street. Yellow tape flapped weakly in the wind.

Our home…

Gone.

Flames still clung to the edges of what used to be the roof. Burnt beams fell in on themselves with loud cracks, like breaking bones.

I could still save the drive.

One of the firemen tried to stop me as I ducked under the tape, but I shoved past him like a madwoman.

“No—there’s something I need inside!” I cried. “I need—”

“Miss, it’s not safe—”

But I didn’t care. I ran straight to the edge of the wreckage, heart pounding, eyes wild.

The study.

The drawer.

The last place I’d hidden something that really mattered.

I fell to my knees and clawed through the ash and splintered wood, coughing as ashes filled my throat. I peeled away the scorched drawer front, searching for even a sliver of plastic, a hint of metal.

But there was nothing.

The duplicates were gone.

All of it…. every backup I’d made…. vaporized.

The weight of it crushed me.

I sat back on my heels, letting the heat wash over me. I didn’t wipe the tears that slid down my cheeks. They didn’t deserve that dignity.

Gabriel had won this round. And I didn’t even know if my father was still alive.

No. I couldn’t stop here. I wouldn’t.

I had one name left. One person who could help me end this.

Dante.

I headed to his residence like a woman possessed, barely remembering how I got to his estate. The second the gates opened, I sprinted to the front door and banged my fist against it. Hard. Desperate.

Seconds later, it flew open—and Dante stood there.

But not the version I’d left in the garden hours ago.

This Dante was on edge. Fury radiated from him like heat from a furnace. His jaw was clenched, eyes hard, chest rising and falling with restrained violence.

“Lucia.” His voice was gravel. “Where the hell were you?”

“I—” I started to speak, but he was already walking away, down the hall toward his office. I followed blindly, breath catching.

“Dante, wait. I need to tell you something—Gabriel—”

He spun on me. “I know.”

I stopped cold. “What?”

He walked to his desk and picked up a familiar object.. a slightly burnt but intact flash drive.

My mouth fell open.

“That’s—how did you—?”

“I saw you outside my gate. You looked shaken… then you ran. A few minutes later, your call came in, but it cut off before I could answer. After that, I couldn’t reach you. So I went to your place.”

I stared at the drive in his hand like it was a ghost. “But Gabriel said… he said he burned everything.”

He tried,” Dante said darkly. “But he was too late. I got there first. The front door was open, and one of your guards dead. Blood on the floor. Something felt off, like the place had already been searched. I moved through the house and ended up in the study. That’s when I saw the drawer—slightly pulled out, like someone had checked it already. I looked closer and found the drive taped underneath. Figured anything hidden like that had to be important. A few minutes later, they pulled up. I slipped out and watched from down the block as they torched the place.

He rounded the desk, eyes burning, voice low and shaking with rage. “I saw them, Lucia. Gabriel. Vincenzo. A whole fucking crew pulling up right after I left. They didn’t even hesitate—they set your house on fire like it was trash. Like your life meant shit to them.” He slammed his hand down on the desk. “And I saw what was on that damn drive!”

A fresh wave of nausea rolled over me. “So… he really was working with Vincenzo.”

Dante’s eyes flared. “He’s been embedded in this for years. Quiet and strategic. But now? He’s not hiding anymore.”

My knees nearly buckled. “Dante, they took my father. Gabriel had him in the van. He said… he said I wouldn’t see him for a long time.”

Dante was quiet for a long moment. Then he looked at his consigliere, who had just entered and was waiting silently at the door.

“Everything’s ready,” the man said.

Dante nodded once.

Then he looked back at me—eyes dark, voice low.

“I’m going to end this,” he said. “No more hiding. No more waiting.”

I stared at him, my heart thudding. “Where are you going?”

He moved past me, toward the exit.

“To finish what was started a long time ago.”