Chapter 35 Ren
Ren
I watch her retreat from the balcony and disappear into the shadows of the master suite. The oversized black hoodie swallows her frame, yet she still carries herself with the rigid, unmistakable pride of a commanding officer. Even bruised and in the middle of a slow recovery, Amelia Russo remains a variable I have not yet figured out how to solve. I turn back to the gardener and the mask falls away instantly. The playful smirk vanishes and the warmth in my eyes flatlines into a cold, predatory stare that makes the air between us feel thin.
"The perimeter sensors on the north ridge were tripped by a fox at 03:00," I say in a voice that is a low, dangerous grate. It is no longer the voice of the charming billionaire she thinks she knows. "Check the backup relays immediately because I want a drone in the air before the next thing that breathes moves an inch toward this house."
The gardener is a man who has buried more bodies than flower bulbs in his lifetime. He simply nods and keeps his mouth shut. I leave him to his work and walk toward the stone stairs that lead to the lower basement. The transition from the sunlit terrace to the sub-level of the villa is a physical change in pressure. The air is cooler down here and it smells of ozone, gun oil, and damp stone. This is the part of the villa Amelia will never see because this is where the mask of Luca D'Angelo is stripped away to leave only Lorenzo Moretti, the one person she wants dead.
I push open the heavy steel door of the monitoring room where Matteo is already waiting in front of a wall of flickering screens. He is drinking a coffee that looks as bitter as his expression and he does not look up when I enter. He knows my stride well enough to recognize the mood I am in before I even open my mouth.
"Give me a status report," I command as I lean against the edge of the central table. My fingers drum a restless, impatient rhythm on the polished metal surface.
"The cleanup in Verona is complete and every trace of the bridge incident has been scrubbed from the official record," Matteo says as he taps a key to bring up a series of surveillance feeds. "The Minister is still shaking in his boots and while he has increased his personal security, he knows he is on a very short leash. He has not breathed a word to anyone about the ambush."
"He is a coward and cowardice is easy to manage," I mutter as I dismiss the thought of the man with a wave of my hand. "The cowardice is not what concerns me. It is the silence from the Russo family that feels wrong. Give me the latest on Valentino."
Matteo sighs and pulls up a separate file that contains a detailed dossier on Amelia’s older brother. Valentino is the man who stepped into her boots and now leads the elite unit she spent her entire career building.
"There is absolutely nothing to report," Matteo says and I can hear the confusion in his voice. "Valentino has been quiet to the point of being suspicious. He is running standard drills and he has not authorized any search patterns. He hasn't even reached out to his usual contacts in the intelligence sector to see if there is any chatter about his sister. To the outside world, it looks like he has simply accepted her absence and moved on."
I feel a cold prickle of suspicion at the base of my neck because Valentino Russo is not a lazy man. He is a tactician who knows the value of a high-ranking officer and a sibling, especially one who is a Captain and has a lot of information on a lot of Mafia organisations.
"He hasn't carried out a single raid or even an unauthorized surveillance check?" I ask while looking directly at Matteo. "No private investigators or off-the-books questions?"
"Not a single move," Matteo confirms. "He is following the official narrative perfectly and playing the part of the dutiful son and the loyal soldier."
"That makes him a ghost and a ghost is always dangerous," I say as I drop the tablet onto the table with a loud clatter. "Amelia thinks her unit is tearing the country apart to find the man who took her. If Valentino is doing nothing, it means he either knows exactly where she is or he has decided he doesn't want her found at all."
"Or he is simply waiting for us to make a mistake so he can pounce," Matteo adds.
"I never make mistakes," I snap and the room goes quiet immediately.
Matteo knows when to push and when to retreat. I take a deep breath and look at the screen showing the conservatory where I can see the staff setting the table for breakfast. I see the cook preparing the specific herbal blend the doctor requested for her recovery.
"She is getting restless, Ren," Matteo says softly after a moment of silence. "She is a Captain and she is going to start looking for the cracks in this house soon."
"Then we make sure there are no cracks to find," I say as I turn toward the weapon rack at the back of the room. I pull a matte black handgun from its holster and check the action with a practiced flick of my wrist. The sound is a clean, metallic snap that echoes in the small room. "Increase the guard on the lake path and have them redirect her politely if she wanders too far. If she touches a single sensor, I want to know about it the second it happens."
"And what if she asks about her brother again?" Matteo asks.
"Then you tell her the truth," I say with a dark and hollow smile. "Tell her that her brother is doing exactly what he was trained to do. He is leading his unit and he just forgot to tell her that he doesn't need her anymore."
I holster the weapon and head back up the stairs. By the time I reach the conservatory, the mask is back in place and I am Luca again. I find her sitting at the table and staring out at the lake with a look of deep contemplation on her face.
"You look like you are planning a coup, Captain," I say as I pull out the chair opposite her. I offer her a smile that feels warm but remains entirely calculated. "Was the tea not to your liking?"
"The tea was fine," she says without looking at me. "I was just wondering why a billionaire needs a gardener who carries a tactical holster under his flannel shirt."
I do not blink or falter. I pick up a piece of fruit and take a slow bite. "He is very protective of his orchids, Amelia. We have a lot of thieves in these mountains and there is a massive black market for rare flowers that you wouldn't believe."
"I am a soldier, Luca," she says as she finally looks at me. Her hazel eyes are sharp and they are looking for the lie hidden in my words. "Do not insult my intelligence with stories about flower thieves."
"I wouldn't dream of it," I say as I lean forward to close the distance between us. I can see the faint pulse in her neck and I know she is on edge. "I am just a man who likes his privacy and I want to make sure my guest is safe. Is that really so hard for you to believe?"
"In this house, everything is hard to believe," she says.
She picks up her tea and takes a slow sip while I watch her. I feel the weight of the secrets I am keeping and the blood that is on my hands. I am a monster who has built a kingdom on violence and she is the only thing in this world that makes the air feel clear. Weird as it is.
"I am going to take you for a drive later because there is a village further up the mountain," I say to keep the conversation light. "They make cheese that will make you forget all about your military protocol."
"I never forget protocol, Luca," she says.
"We will see about that," I murmur.
I finish my breakfast while my mind moves back to Valentino. If her brother is not looking for her, then he is hiding something big. If he is hiding something, it means Amelia is even more valuable than I first thought. I will keep her here in this mountain fortress where I can protect her. I will kill anyone who tries to take her back to a family that has already forgotten her name.
I am about to suggest a second cup of tea when my phone vibrates against the mahogany table. I check the screen and see Marco’s name. He is the man I leave in charge of the docks when I am not there to crack skulls myself. I look at Amelia and give her a practiced, tight smile. I stand up from the table and push my chair back.
"I need to take this. It's business," I say.
"Business never sleeps for the wealthy, does it?" she asks. She leans back and watches me with a suspicious gaze.
"Not when you have as many interests as I do," I reply.
I walk out of the conservatory and into the quiet hallway. I make sure I am far enough away that her sharp, trained ears cannot pick up the details. I answer the call and Marco’s voice comes through immediately. He sounds breathless and panicked.
"Boss, we have a massive problem," Marco says. "A rival organization is making a move against us. They intercepted the delivery from the eastern docks and the land shipment that was headed for the warehouse. They didn't just take the cargo, Ren. They killed everyone on the crew."
I feel the familiar, cold pressure of rage building behind my eyes. I grip the phone so hard I hear the casing groan. I keep my voice low so it does not carry back to the conservatory.
"How many?" I ask.
"Twelve men," Marco whispers. "They sent the bodies back in a shipping container. They are mangled. They are deformed. It looks like they were tortured for hours before they were finished off. There are cigarette burns all over them, Boss. It's a message."
I take a deep breath to steady my pulse. I am fuming. I want to find whoever did this and peel the skin from their bones while they are still conscious. I have been gone for barely a day and the vultures are already circling the empire.
"I have been gone for barely a day," I hiss into the receiver. "Who the fuck do they think they are?"
"They are claiming you are dead because you haven't made any moves in a while," Marco says. "The word on the street is that the military finally got to you. Their boss is telling everyone that you are gone and he is going to be the next shadow of the city."
I growl lowly. It is a sound of pure, predatory hatred. The son of a bitch thinks he can sit on my throne while it is still warm. He thinks he can touch my men and walk away.
"What do we do, Boss?" Marco asks.
"Do not make any moves yet," I command. "Do not let anyone leave the perimeter of the docks. I am on my way back. I will handle this personally."
I end the call and immediately dial Matteo. He picks up on the first ring. He has likely already heard the news through his own channels.
"I am sure you have heard the report from Marco," I say. "Have the private jet prepared. We leave in twenty minutes. I want the heavy tactical gear loaded and I want the full security detail on high alert."
"Is something wrong?"
I freeze. I turn around and see Amelia standing by the door of the hallway. She is leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over the oversized hoodie. Her hazel eyes are narrowed and she is reading my body language like a map.
"You look tense, Luca," she says.
I put the phone in my pocket and force my expression to neutralize. I walk toward her. I need to get out of here before the mask slips and she sees the monster underneath.
"I need to leave," I say. I keep my voice steady. "Something important came up with one of my shipments. I have to go back to the city to handle it."
"I am coming with you," she says. It is not a request. It is a command.
"No, you are not," I say. I step into her personal space. "You are going to stay here and you are going to recover. The doctor was very clear about your stitches."
"I am not staying here all alone in this huge monstrosity of a house," she says. She steps closer to me. She is not intimidated by my size. "I am a soldier, not a house guest. I am not sitting here while you go off to play businessman."
"Yes, you are," I say. I look down at her. "And you are not alone. The gardener is here and so is the cook. Matteo has left a secondary team in the woods. You are safer here than anywhere else in Italy."
"Luca," she says. Her voice is warning me.
"End of discussion, Amelia," I snap. I am losing my patience. My men are lying in a container with cigarette burns on their skin and I do not have time to argue about her boredom.
"Fine," she says. She lets out a frustrated breath. "If you are going to leave me here as a sitting duck, at least give me a gun so I do not feel naked. I need to feel safe."
"You are safe," I say. "No one is stupid enough to come this far into the mountains. This property is a fortress."
"I. NEED. A. GUN!" she shouts.
She stands her ground and glares at me. She is a warrior who has been stripped of her armor. I can see the genuine fear of being helpless in her eyes, even if she tries to hide it with anger. I look at her for a long moment. I know she knows how to use it. I know she is a better shot than half my men. But giving a Captain of the Italian Army a loaded weapon in my own house is a dangerous move.
I reach behind my back and pull out a spare compact pistol from my holster. I eject the magazine to show her it is full and then I slap it back in. I hold it out to her, grip first.
"One magazine," I say. "If you use it, you better have a damn good reason. Do not go hunting for flower thieves."
She takes the weapon from me with a practiced ease. She checks the safety and tucks it into the waistband of her joggers. She looks more relaxed the moment the steel touches her skin.
"Thank you, Luca," she says.
"Stay inside," I say. I turn and walk toward the front door where the black SUV is already waiting. "I will be back when the business is finished."
I do not look back as I walk out. I get into the car and Matteo pulls away from the villa. I watch the house disappear in the rearview mirror. My mind is already miles away. I am thinking about the man who thinks he is the next shadow. I am thinking about the cigarette burns. I am going to show him that the shadow he is so afraid of hasn't even begun to darken his world yet.