Chapter 175
Eva knew she had been exposed.
In front of someone like Vitale, any hope of luck was useless.
She didn't panic or fire her gun right away.
Slowly, with an almost deliberate calmness, Eva straightened up, pressing the barrel of her gun harder into Isabella's lower back, signaling her not to move.
Then, she turned around slowly, facing Vitale while keeping Isabella firmly in front of her, using her as a human shield.
Isabella could finally see Vitale clearly.
He was so close.
Every line of exhaustion on his face, every red vein in his eyes, his tightly pressed lips, and his tense jawline were all visible in detail.
Her tears flowed even harder, her body trembling uncontrollably from excitement and fear.
Vitale's gaze, in that first moment, bypassed Eva and locked onto Isabella's face.
It had only been a few days, but Isabella had lost so much weight.
Her already small face looked even more sunken, pale to the point of transparency, with deep-set eyes. Her blue eyes were filled with lingering terror and the overwhelming emotions surging out at the sight of him.
Her blonde hair was a mess, tangled with grass and dirt, and the chopped-off section at the back stuck out unevenly, like a permanent mark of shame.
Her clothes were dirty and torn, her hands wrapped in crude bandages with faint traces of blood seeping through.
She wasn't doing well.
Not well at all.
She was scared and in pain.
Vitale's heart felt like it was being pounded by a blunt object, the pain making his vision blur and a violent, murderous rage boiling in his chest, almost breaking free.
The veins on his forehead bulged, his temples throbbed, and his knuckles whitened from gripping his gun so tightly.
Eva saw every reaction from Vitale, which only confirmed how valuable Isabella was as a bargaining chip.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm, and met Vitale's gaze—a look that could almost tear her apart. She spoke coldly, "Mr. Luca, shall we talk?"
"Talk?" Vitale forced the word through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with suppressed anger. His bloodshot eyes stared at Eva like a predator hungry for blood, "What makes you think you're in a position to negotiate with me?"
Eva didn't reply. Instead, she pressed the gun against Isabella's temple a little harder.
The cold metal made Isabella flinch, letting out a short gasp.
"This," Eva said, her voice icy and clear.
She hid her body completely behind Isabella, showing only half her face and her deep green eyes, full of caution and determination.
She scanned Vitale and the silent, towering figures behind him—Victor and the other men. They were all muscular, their eyes fierce, exuding the aura of seasoned fighters. Clearly, they were elites.
They had already spread out quietly, forming a loose circle around Eva and Isabella.
Dozens of gun barrels, some visible, some hidden, were aimed at Eva.
The situation was obvious.
With just one word from Vitale, these gunmen would open fire without hesitation.
Eva would be a target shredded in an instant.
And they were clearly well-trained, confident they could rescue Isabella without hitting any vital spots.
This was a test of nerves and resolve.
Eva was gambling—gambling that Vitale wouldn't dare risk Isabella's life, not even the slightest chance.
Vitale looked at Isabella's terrified, tear-filled eyes and the cold gun barrel against her temple.
The rage and murderous intent in his eyes burned like molten lava, but the moment he met Isabella's gaze, he forced it down just a little.
He couldn't let her be frightened any more than she already was.
Just as Eva braced herself, waiting for Vitale's response or compromise, something unexpected happened.
Without warning, Vitale raised the hand holding his gun.
Not at Eva, not at the sky.
The barrel pointed downward, aimed at the muddy ground less than two feet in front of Eva's feet.
A deafening gunshot exploded in the quiet forest.
The bullet hit the dirt, sending up a spray of grass and dust, nearly grazing Eva's shoe.
Caught off guard, Eva shuddered from the close gunshot and flying dirt. Her pupils shrank, and a flash of instinctive fear crossed her eyes.
The hand holding the gun against Isabella's temple trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly.
Isabella, held hostage by Eva, was even more startled by the sudden shot. She screamed, "Vitale!"
Her scream was filled with fear, but also a hint of subconscious confusion and worry about Vitale's actions.
Hearing Isabella's scream, Vitale's heart clenched painfully.
He immediately looked at Isabella, his bloodshot eyes filling with deep, tender concern and reassurance. His voice softened instantly, a stark contrast to the coldness when he fired the shot, "It's okay, baby, it's okay." His gaze locked onto Isabella, as if he could wrap her up with just his eyes, "Look at me, don't be afraid. You'll be back in my arms soon."
His tone was so certain, so gentle, as if stating an undeniable fact.
Beneath that gentleness was a steel-like determination and a chilling sense of control.
The echo of the gunshot slowly faded in the forest.
The encirclement remained silent and tense.
Eva's heart was still pounding. That shot just now—Vitale had used the most direct, brutal way to show his impatience and absolute dominance.
He didn't care about negotiations, didn't care about threats, didn't even care if he provoked the hostage-taker.
He only cared about Isabella, and he had absolute confidence that he could take her back, no matter the situation.
Cold sweat quietly soaked Eva's back.
The gunshot, like a heavy hammer, shattered the illusion of negotiation Eva had tried to maintain and fully exposed Vitale's current state.
He was a beast pushed to the edge, out of patience, with eyes only for reclaiming his partner. Any delay or threat would only provoke a more violent, unpredictable counterattack.
A chilling fear crept up her spine, but Eva gripped her gun even tighter, the barrel pressed hard against Isabella's temple, her knuckles white from the effort.
She could feel Isabella's trembling body and rapid breathing, the warm breath brushing against the back of her hand.
She tilted her head slightly, her lips almost touching Isabella's ear, whispering in a ruthless tone only the two of them could hear, "Tell them to let me go. Now. Right now."
"Otherwise, even if I die, I'm taking you with me. You don't want to be separated from your lover forever right after seeing him, do you?"
Isabella froze, tears welling up in her eyes.
Eva's voice continued to drill into her ear, carrying a near-desperate plea, "Isabella, I've helped you. I stopped Aldo and the others. I bandaged your wounds."
"Now, it's your turn to help me. I need to get out of here. I can't be caught by Vitale's people. They'll torture me to death. You understand, don't you?"
Isabella's heart tightened.
Eva was telling the truth.
Despite their opposing sides and complicated motives, Eva had indeed offered her some protection when she was most helpless.
The fear in Eva's eyes right now was real—a deep dread of falling into the hands of the mafia, especially into the hands of a furious Vitale.
A crazy thought flashed through Isabella's mind.
Swallowing the discomfort of the gun against her temple, she responded in a barely audible, strained voice, "Eva, come with me. Stay by my side. I can protect you. I'll make Vitale let you go."
"We'll help you get revenge. Not all mafia are what you think they are."
She wanted to grasp this last shred of possibility, trying to pull Eva back just a little from the edge of her hatred.
But what answered her was a short, scornful laugh from Eva.
There was no warmth in that laugh, only a near-obsessive determination, "Isabella, you don't know me. You never will."
"I will never submit to the mafia. Never. Even if I die, my body will be carried away by the eagles on the cliff. It will never fall into your hands."
Eva's voice turned icy and resolute, "So, don't try to convince me. It's useless. Now, do as I say. Tell them to let me go, or we both die here."
Eva's resolve was like the cold, hard cliff rocks behind her—unyielding, with no room for compromise.
Not far away, Vitale stared intently at the side profile of Isabella and Eva whispering to each other.
The distance and the wind kept him from hearing their words. All he could see was Isabella's pale face, the tears rolling down her cheeks, and Eva's tense, guarded posture.
The gun pressed against Isabella's temple was like a poisonous thorn piercing his heart.
Vitale didn't care what Eva was saying or what she wanted.
His mind and eyes were only on Isabella.
She had lost weight, looked worn out, scared, injured...
He wanted to rush over right now, hold her tightly in his arms, and warm her cold body with all his heat.
He wanted to kiss her pale lips and wipe the tears from her face.
He wanted to meld her into his very bones, to confirm her existence in the most direct, primal way, to feel her warmth and heartbeat—as if only that could soothe the fear, rage, and near-maddening longing that had built up over the past three days and nights.
But he couldn't.
That damned gun barrel was an uncrossable chasm.
Isabella seemed to have reached some kind of understanding with Eva. She lifted her head, her tear-filled eyes looking at Vitale.
Those blue eyes, like a sky washed by rain, carried a plea, a longing, and a barely noticeable hint of intercession for Eva.
"Darling..." Isabella's voice was hoarse and faint, yet it carried clearly to him. Each word felt like a feather, lightly brushing against Vitale's most vulnerable heartstrings, "I've missed you so much."
Vitale's heart clenched hard, his throat feeling as if something was blocking it.