Chapter 142: Family unite

GIOVANNI’S POV

The doctor closed his medical bag with a satisfied click. "Much better, Mr. Vitale. Your vitals are stronger, the wound is healing cleanly. Another week of rest and you should be able to move around more freely."

Robert, propped up against pillows in his bed, looked pale but infinitely better than he had a week ago. "A week? I'll be up and about in three days."

"Robert, don't be stubborn," Isabella chided from her chair beside the bed, though relief was evident in her voice. "Listen to the doctor."

Robert huffed. "I've been shot before. I know my body."

"Yes, and you're not twenty anymore," I said from my position by the window. "Take the week."

Robert shot me a look. "Since when do you side with the doctors?"

"Since you almost died and left me to deal with your wife and daughter's grief." I kept my tone light, but the memory of that first night was still too fresh.

"He has a point," Isabella said, squeezing Robert's hand. "You scared us."

Robert's expression softened as he looked at his wife. "I'm sorry, amore. I'll behave. One week of rest."

The doctor packed up the rest of his supplies. "I'll check in again tomorrow. Call if there are any changes or anything unusual."

After he left, the three of us sat in silence for a moment.

"Any news on Marco?" Robert finally asked, his voice hardening.

"We're close." I moved away from the window to stand at the foot of his bed. "Enzo's team has been tracking every property associated with him. We've checked most of them but they’re empty, or occupied by people who haven't seen him in months."

Robert bobbed his head. "How many left?"

"One. An apartment in the northern district. It was recently refurbished with a new security system installed three months ago.” I responded. “The timing matches when Marco would have been planning his move."

"That's got to be it." Robert tried to sit up straighter and winced.

"Careful," Isabella warned.

"I've also been digging into Marco's finances," Robert continued, ignoring his wife's concern. "The bastard has been stealing from me for over a year. Small amounts at first, easy to miss. Then larger sums once he got bolder."

"How much?" I asked.

Robert’s jaw clenched. "Close to two million euros. All funneled through shell companies and offshore accounts." His jaw clenched. "And that's just what I've found so far. There's probably more."

"The Riveras were paying him too," I added. "For intelligence, access, and orchestrating the attacks. He was being compensated from both sides."

"Greedy bastard," Isabella muttered. She rarely swore, which showed how deeply Marco's betrayal had cut. "We welcomed him into our home and him like family. And he…"

She stopped, shaking her head. "When you find him, Giovanni, make him suffer."

The venom in her voice surprised me. Isabella had always been the diplomatic one, the peacemaker.

But Marco had shot her husband and threatened her family. Some things couldn't be forgiven.

"I will," I promised. "And I'll find Arya. I'll bring her home."

"To us or to you?" Robert asked, his gaze sharp despite his weakened state.

I shrugged. "That's her choice to make but either way, she deserves to know her father is alive. That her family wants her back."

Robert nodded slowly. "Find her, Giovanni. Whatever it takes."

"I will."

I left them alone, closing the door quietly behind me. The hallway was quieter now than it had been that first chaotic night.

Most of the extra guards had been dismissed, the blood cleaned up, the bullet holes plastered over.

But the scars remained, especially on my conscience for not seeing Marco's betrayal sooner.

Voices drifted up from downstairs, I could Enzo's deep rumble and a higher, animated voice. Christabel.

I found them in the living room. Christabel was talking rapidly, her hands gesturing wildly while Enzo listened with patient amusement.

“… and then the teacher said my essay was the best in the class! Can you believe it? Me! I thought for sure Sofia would win because she always wins, but… oh!" Christabel spotted me and her enthusiasm dimmed slightly. "Hi."

"Hi yourself." Over the past week, Christabel and I had developed an odd rapport. She stopped glaring at me, at least. "What's this about an essay?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing."

"It's about family," Enzo supplied. "She wrote about resilience in the face of adversity. The teacher was very impressed."

Christabel's cheeks flushed. "Enzo's exaggerating."

"I'm not. I read it. It was excellent." Enzo caught my eye. "We should go soon. That thing we discussed."

Right. The final property check and tomorrow's raid.

Christabel's face fell. "You're leaving?"

"Just for a little while," I said.

She frowned. "That's what you always say. And then you're gone for hours and hours and-“

"Hey." I crouched down to her level, surprising both her and myself. "I know this past week has been scary. But I promise, we're making progress. We're going to find your sister and bring her home."

Her wide brown eyes were suddenly misty. "You promise?"

"I promise. And when I do, you can write another essay about family reunions."

She managed a small smile.

I reached into my jacket and pulled out something I had picked up on a whim yesterday. It was a book I had seen in a shop window. "Here. To keep you busy while I'm gone."

Christabel took it, her eyes widening. "The new Sarah Mancini novel! This isn't even out yet!"

"I know a guy." Actually, I had paid three times the cover price to get an advance copy, but she didn't need to know that. "It should keep you occupied until I get back."

She threw her arms around my neck in an unexpected hug. "Thank you!"

I awkwardly patted her back, caught off guard by the gesture. When she pulled away, her eyes were bright with tears.

"Bring Arya home safe," she said quietly. "Please."

"I will," I promised.

Enzo and I left shortly after, the winter air cold against our faces as we walked to the car.

"You've gotten close to her," Enzo observed. "Christabel."

I nodded, unable to respond. It wasn’t something that I had planned, getting this close to the Vitale family. But it had happened anyways.

We drove in silence for a while. I pulled out my phone to check messages, and noticed the notification.

There was three missed calls from an unknown number. Probably spam.

I was about to dismiss it when Enzo started talking, pulling my attention away.

"So, we got the intel from the building manager for that apartment and it took some persuading and a substantial bribe.” He paused and huffef, “but he confirmed the unit was leased six months ago and paid in cash for a year upfront."

I pocketed my phone. "And you're sure it's been recently occupied?"

"Utilities show consistent usage. Someone's living there." Enzo said.

My gut told me this was it. This was where Marco was hiding.

Which meant this was where Arya might be.

"We go tomorrow," I decided. "I want overwhelming force so he doesn't have time to hurt her or run."

Enzo nodded. "I'll brief the team tonight. We'll have twenty men and snipers in position."

"Make it thirty men. I'm not taking any chances." I said gruffly.

He smirked. "Thirty it is."

We pulled up to the estate as the sun was setting. Enzo headed to brief the team while I went to my office, intending to review the building plans one more time.

But something nagged at me. A feeling I was forgetting something important.

I pulled out my phone again, staring at those missed calls.

Who was trying to reach me? And why hadn't they left a voicemail?

I almost called the number back then Enzo appeared in the doorway.

“The team's assembled. Ready for the briefing?"

I pocketed my phone. "Let's go."