Chapter 84 – Mercenaries

Chapter 84 – Mercenaries
Lucia’s POV

I didn’t know where to go.
Dante’s place was safe, but it didn’t feel right. Not when I had no idea where my father was or if he’d even make it back. What if he escaped and came looking for me? What if he returned to the only place he knew—our house?

Even if it was burnt to a skeleton of its former self.

So I stayed.
Among the ashes, among the memories.
The front door barely hung on its hinges, and the roof sagged in the corner, charred and ruined.

I sat on the steps with my arms wrapped around my knees, looking down the street every few minutes, hoping for something. Anything.

But the night was cold. And still.

I stared at my screen, willing it to light up.

Still no word from Dante. I’d called. Texted. Begged. Nothing. And the longer I sat there, the heavier the weight in my chest grew. A weight full of fear, guilt… and something I didn’t want to name.

It was almost midnight when I finally stood, rubbing my arms to keep warm. I thought maybe I’d imagined it at first—the slow, uneven footsteps. The way the night seemed to hold its breath.

But then I saw him.

“Dad?” I whispered, blinking through the dark.

A shadow moved toward me, stumbling slightly, clutching his side. My heart stuttered violently.

“Dad!” I screamed, sprinting down the cracked sidewalk.

He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes, his face bruised and gaunt. “Lucia?” he rasped, confusion flickering behind his gaze. “What… happened to the house?”

I threw my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I could without hurting him. “You’re alive,” I cried, breath hitching against his neck. “God, I thought I lost you.”

He grunted in pain but didn’t pull away.

“It was them,” I said through gritted teeth. “The ones who took you. But it doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”

He swayed slightly, and that was when I realized how weak he really was.

“You need a hospital,” I said, steadying him. “You’re hurt.”

“No, no—” he mumbled, trying to shake his head. “I just need a minute.”

“You’ve been gone for over 24 hours, dad. You need more than a minute.”

I didn’t wait for his protest.

I wrapped my arm around him, struggling to keep him upright as I fumbled for my phone. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely press the numbers. 

And then the dispatcher answered.

“My father—he’s injured,” I told the dispatcher, my voice trembling. “We need an ambulance. Please hurry.”

I gave them the address, then crouched beside him on the pavement, his breathing shallow and unsteady. I held his hand tight—tight enough to keep him grounded, tight enough to stop myself from shattering.

It felt like forever before the flashing lights painted the dark street red and blue.

The EMTs moved quickly, asking questions I could barely answer. I climbed into the back with him, my nails digging into my palms as they checked his vitals and started an IV.

He looked fragile on the stretcher, a shell of the man I knew.

—————

At the hospital, the emergency room reeked of antiseptic and tension. Nurses swarmed us the second we walked in. They took him from me, and I paced like a caged animal while they examined him. My clothes were still stained with ash and my father’s blood. I didn’t even care. I just needed to know he was okay.

After what felt like an hour, the doctor stepped out. 
“He’s stable,” he said. “Broken ribs, dehydration, some blood loss—but he’ll recover physically.”
Relief hit me, sharp and dizzying.

Then the next blow came.

“We also ran some cognitive tests while he was lucid. He’s showing signs of early-stage dementia—possibly Alzheimer’s.”

I already knew that. But the edge in his voice… it told me there was more. “What does that mean?”

“He’s disoriented, struggling with memory. If it progresses, he’ll need supervised care. Medication. Maybe even a facility, eventually.”

My chest tightened. I couldn’t picture him like that… confused, lost in his own mind.

“And that kind of care,” I whispered, “isn’t cheap.”

The doctor didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

I turned to the window, my father lying pale in the hospital bed, hooked up to wires. He was here, but not whole. 

I could barely keep myself together. How was I supposed to care for him now? What if I couldn’t save him? What if I lost him… for good?

And Dante…

God, where was he?

I sat with my father for as long as I could. He drifted in and out of sleep, sometimes calling me by my mother’s name, sometimes asking where he was. Each time, I answered gently. Each time, I pretended like my heart wasn’t breaking.

Then the silence shattered.
A news anchor’s voice cut through the ward.

“Live footage now coming in from a shootout just outside the city limits,” the anchor said, voice tight. “Gunfire erupted around midnight. Witnesses say multiple vehicles and armed men are involved. Authorities suspect organized crime.”

A shaky phone video played on-screen—blurry flashes of light, screaming, smoke.

I knew those cars. Dante’s black SUV was right there in the middle.

“Dante,” I whispered.

My pulse shot into overdrive. I grabbed my phone again. Still nothing. Straight to voicemail. My fingers trembled as I called Lucas.

“Lucia—?”

“Where is he?” I asked, panic clawing up my throat. “Have you heard from him?”

“No. I haven’t heard from him. What’s going on?”

“He walked into a trap,” I snapped. “It’s on the news, Lucas! There’s a goddamn war out there and he’s in the middle of it.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “Lucia, I—he never tells me anything when he’s out on these missions. I’m not part of that world.”

“Well, congratulations,” I said coldly, grabbing my bag. “You are now.”

I turned back to look at my father one last time, my eyes stinging. “I’ll come back for you,” I whispered. “I swear. But right now… he needs me.”

And then I left the hospital.

Because Dante Romano may have told me to stay out of his war.

But he never said I couldn’t burn it down to find him.

I left the hospital without another word, barely sparing a glance behind me. I got in a cab and told the driver to take me to Dante’s.

The ride was short, but my thoughts wouldn’t shut up. Every second that passed without news felt like another minute of him bleeding somewhere I couldn’t reach.

When we pulled up, everything looked normal. The compound was too quiet.

The guards let me in, panting, my clothes damp with sweat. Lucas was pacing near the bar, a phone clutched in his hand.

He looked up when he saw me. “Nothing. Still nothing.”

“He’s in trouble,” I said, voice low and certain. “We have to do something.”

Lucas shook his head. “Lucia, no. I’m not trained for this. Dante kept me out of this world for a reason.”

“Lucas… we really have to.”

“He didn’t even let me carry a real weapon until last year—”

“I don’t care.” I stepped in front of him, my voice sharp enough to slice skin. “I’m not going to sit here and hope he makes it back. If we don’t move now, we’ll be saving a corpse.”

Lucas swallowed, clearly torn.

After a long beat, he said, “I know a few guys. Mercenaries. Ex-military. They’ve worked off the books before. But…”

“But what?”

“They’re expensive. They don’t move unless there’s money on the table.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Then we convince them.” I said, already moving.

We found them in a graffitied alley under a flickering streetlight. Three of them. All armed. Cold eyes. One leaned against a crate, polishing his weapon like this was just another Tuesday.

“Half a million up front,” their leader said flatly. “No exceptions.”

“We don’t have that kind of money,” Lucas muttered.

I stepped forward. “But I have something else.”

The leader raised a brow. “What?”

“Access,” I lied. “To the Romano accounts. Offshore ones. Not just money — names. Codes. The kind of leverage people kill for.”

Lucas whipped toward me. “Lucia—”

“Dante once gave me a password. Said to use it if I ever needed out. I never did.” My voice didn’t waver. “If you help me bring him back alive, I’ll give it to you. You’ll get your payment and more.”

The mercenaries exchanged looks. Calculating. Interested now.

The leader’s eyes narrowed. “You swear?”

I nodded. “If we don’t pay you after the mission, you kill me. You take my body and sell it for parts if that’s what it takes. I don’t care.”

The men laughed at first, but I didn’t flinch. I meant every word.

Dead silence followed.

Lucas’s face was pale. “You’re insane.”

“No,” I said. “I can’t loose another man I loved.”

The mercenaries studied me for a moment. Then the leader nodded once. “We’ve accepted worse terms.”

I exhaled a shaky breath.

We had a team.

And now… we had a war to win.