Chapter 140: Chapter One Hundred And Forty

Luca's breath was shaky, his body taut with fear. He knew he was inches from death.

"I-I don't know where Sofia is," he rasped, his voice strained. "But I know someone who might."

I didn't ease the pressure of the gun against his ribs. "Who?"

Luca exhaled sharply, his forehead slick with sweat. "Diego Torres."

My blood ran hot. Of course. That idiot. That fucking parasite.

Diego had been circling like a vulture for years, always looking for a weakness, always waiting for the right moment to strike. He wanted what was mine-my power, my empire. The title of Mafia Lord of New York.

And now, the bastard had joined hands with Thomas.

I laughed, low and cold. "Of course, that rat would be involved."

Luca swallowed hard. "I-I can take you to one of his men."

My grip on his shirt didn't loosen. "Who?"

"Tyron."

I exhaled slowly, my mind working through the implications. Tyron was one of Diego's top guys. If he was in on this, then Diego wasn't just involved-he was deep in it.

I tilted my head, studying Luca. "You better not be fucking with me."

"I swear, Boss." His voice was hoarse, desperate. "Let me take you to him. If anyone knows where Sofia is, it's Tyron."

I held him there for a long moment, my gun still pressed against his ribs. The room was thick with tension, with the smell of blood and sweat and betrayal.

Then, finally, I released him with a shove.

"Fine," I muttered. "You're coming with me."

Luca nodded quickly, rubbing his throat. He knew better than to argue.

I turned toward the door, my fingers still itching to pull the trigger on someone.

The engine roared as I gripped the wheel, my fingers flexing around the leather like I was imagining it was Diego Torres's fucking throat. The streets of New York blurred past, the neon lights streaking against the rain-slick pavement. I could barely hear the hum of the tires over the blood pounding in my ears.

Luca sat stiff beside me, his hands pressed against his thighs. Smart. He knew better than to speak right now.

"Where the fuck is he?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the tense silence.

Luca swallowed. "Tyron operates out of an underground club in Brooklyn. The Black Lotus."

I scoffed. "Of course. A rat hiding in a hole."

The Black Lotus wasn't just any club-it was a front for all kinds of dirty deals. Drugs, weapons, blood money. And it was Diego's playground.

My grip tightened on the wheel.

That bastard had been looking for a way to bring me down for years, licking his wounds from every time I reminded him who the real king of this city was. And now? He'd crossed the line.

The car screeched as I pulled up to the club, the bass from inside thrumming through the pavement.

I killed the engine. Turned to Luca.

"If this is a setup," I said quietly, dangerously, "I'll put a bullet between your eyes before they even touch me."

Luca nodded quickly. "I know, Boss. I swear, this is real."

I studied him for a beat longer, searching for any sign of deception. Then, without another word, I stepped out of the car.

The bouncers at the entrance shifted the moment they saw me. Recognition flickered in their eyes. Fear followed.

The bouncers hesitated, their eyes darting between each other. They knew who I was. Knew better than to try and stop me.

I stepped forward, my presence alone parting the way. Luca trailed behind, his steps cautious.

Inside, the club was packed-bodies moving under dim, flickering lights, the air thick with sweat, smoke, and cheap perfume. The bass rattled my bones, but I wasn't here for the party.

I was here for blood.

I spotted Tyron in the VIP section, lounging like he had no care in the world, a bottle in one hand and a woman in the other.

Not for long.

I strode forward, shoving past people who didn't move fast enough. Tyron looked up just as I reached him, his cocky smirk dropping the second he saw me.

"Theo," he started, but I didn't give him the chance.

I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him out of his seat, sending the bottle crashing to the floor. Gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd.

Tyron struggled, his hands flying up. "Hey, man-"

I didn't want to hear it. I dragged him through the club, ignoring his protests, ignoring the eyes on us.

Luca held the door open as I shoved Tyron outside, slamming him against the brick wall in the alley.

"You're gonna tell me where Diego is," I said, my voice deadly calm. "Or I start breaking things."

Tyron swallowed hard, his cockiness gone. He knew I wasn't bluffing.

Tyron shook his head frantically, his breath uneven. "I don't know, man, I swear-"

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Swear?" My grip tightened on his collar, yanking him closer. "You think I'm in the mood for lies?"

He held up his hands, palms open, trembling. "I ain't lying, Theo! I don't know where he is!"

I exhaled slowly, my jaw flexing. "All of you," I muttered, my voice dangerously low. "Every single one of you think this is a fucking game. That you can throw me breadcrumbs, waste my time, and walk away breathing."

Tyron flinched.

I slammed him against the wall again, harder this time. "Let me make one thing clear," I hissed. "I am done playing."

His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His eyes darted to Luca, like he thought the bastard would save him.

Luca looked away. Smart choice.

I grabbed Tyron's wrist and twisted. He let out a strangled gasp, pain shooting across his face. "Where. The fuck. Is Diego?"

Tyron groaned, his face contorted in pain. "I-I don't know, man!"

I twisted harder. A sickening pop echoed through the alley, followed by his strangled cry.

"You think I'm fucking stupid?" I growled. "You're Diego's guy. You know exactly where he is."

Tyron was still writhing in pain when my phone vibrated in my pocket. Private number.

I knew before I even answered.

I let go of Tyron, letting him slump against the wall, and pressed the phone to my ear.

Silence for a beat. Then, a voice dripped through the speaker like poison.

Thomas.

"I see you're already running mad, brother," he drawled, amusement coating every syllable. "Tearing through the city, breaking bones, looking for our lover."

My grip on the phone tightened. My other hand curled into a fist.

"You're wasting my time," I said coldly.

He chuckled. "Am I? Or am I making things easier for you?"

My teeth clenched. "Where is she?"

"Tsk, tsk. So impatient." His voice was all mockery. "But fine. I'll speak in simple English since your brain is clouded with rage."

I could hear the smirk in his tone.

"Sofia is alive," he said, dragging out every word. "For now."

I turned away from Tyron, my pulse a slow, lethal thrum. "If you touch her-"

"Ah, ah, ah." His chuckle was infuriating. "You're not in control here, Theo. I am."

The sound of a chair scraping. A distant hum of music, like he was somewhere comfortable. Unbothered.

"Here's the deal," Thomas continued. "You stop looking. You stop your little rampage. And maybe-just maybe-I let you see her again."

My vision blurred at the edges. Every muscle in my body coiled.

"And if I don't?"

Silence.

Then, his voice dipped lower.

"Then you'll be finding pieces of her instead."

The line went dead.