Separated

Viktor's radio crackled with static. "Luca? Do you copy?" Nothing but silence answered him. "Luca!"

"Boss, we have to move," his lieutenant pushed. "More boats are coming."

Viktor ignored him, trying the radio again. Something was wrong. Luca always answered. Always.

"Get the cars," Viktor ordered. "We're heading downtown."

They fought their way off the docks, leaving burned boats and broken men behind them. Viktor's face was splashed with blood—some his, most not. His men had never seen him like this, wild-eyed and desperate.

"Faster," he growled at the driver.

Rain pelted the glass as they sped through dark streets. Other cars full of their men followed behind. The radio still hissed with static. Viktor's phone showed no service.

"They're jamming everything," his computer guy explained.

Viktor nodded grimly. "Because they don't want us to know what happened to Luca."

Cold water hit Luca's face. He gasped, choking as consciousness returned. His head throbbed. His hands were tied behind his back, and he sat on a metal chair bolted to the floor.

"Good morning, Mr. Moretti," a woman's voice said. The same woman from before.

Luca blinked, trying to clear his vision. He was in a small room with concrete walls. No windows. One door. A single light hung from the sky.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice rough.

The woman circled him slowly. "Somewhere your friend Viktor will never find you."

Luca tested his bonds. Zip ties, cutting into his wrists. His feet were bound to the chair legs.

"If you're hoping I'll talk, you're wasting your time," Luca told her.

She smiled. "Everyone talks eventually."

A man entered, holding a metal case. He set it on a small table and opened it, showing tools that made Luca's stomach clench.

"Now," the woman said, "let's start with something simple. Tell me about the seal."

Viktor's car screeched to a stop outside the abandoned shop where Luca's last radio call had come from. The street was strangely quiet now. No shots. No foes.

"Spread out," Viktor ordered. "Find any sign of them."

His men spread out, weapons ready. Viktor approached the shop, gun drawn. The door hung open. Inside, he found three of Luca's men—dead.

"Boss!" someone called from outside. "Over here!"

Viktor rushed back to the street. His man pointed to dark stains on the sidewalk. Blood. And next to it, something small gleamed in the streetlight.

Viktor knelt and picked it up. Luca's metal ring—the one he never took off.

"They have him," Viktor whispered.

Back at their command center, Anya had managed to restore some of their protection systems. Her face was tight with worry when Viktor stormed in.

"Any word from Luca?" she asked.

Viktor slammed Luca's ring onto the table. "Nikolai took him."

The room fell silent. Everyone knew what that meant. Torture. Interrogation. Death, eventually.

"How many men do we have left?" Viktor asked.

"Maybe fifty," Anya reported. "Most are wounded. The attacks hit us hard."

Viktor paced the room, mind racing. Then he stopped, facing the wall map.

"They wanted Luca specifically," he said. "Not me. Why?"

Anya frowned. "Maybe because he knows something you don't?"

Viktor shook his head. "Or because taking him hurts me more than anything else could."

For a moment, his mask slipped. The fearsome crime boss looked lost, almost broken. He touched Luca's ring gently.

"I should have been there," he whispered.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the vulnerability vanished. Viktor's eyes hardened.

"Find me everything we have on Nikolai," he ordered. "Every property. Every hideout. Every man who works for him. We turn this city upside down until we find Luca."

Pain burst across Luca's face as the man hit him again. Blood dripped from his split lip onto his shirt.

"The seal," the woman repeated. "Where is it?"

"I told you," Luca gasped. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Another blow, this time to his gut. Luca doubled over as far as his shackles allowed, fighting to breathe.

"Nikolai knows you and Viktor found it," she insisted. "The key to everything."

Luca's mind raced despite the pain. What seal? Was this some kind of code? He needed to stall, to learn what they wanted.

"Maybe if you told me which seal, I could help you," he offered.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You're playing games, Mr. Moretti."

She nodded to the man, who took something from the case. A long, thin knife.

"We have all night," she said. "And my friend here is very patient."

Luca forced himself to stay cool. Viktor would be looking for him. He just needed to live until then. He studied the room, remembering every detail. One door. Probably watched outside. The man with the knife stood between Luca and the exit.

There had to be a way out.

Viktor worked through the night. Maps, reports, phone calls to anyone who might know something. His surviving men raided five of Nikolai's known locations. Nothing.

By morning, Viktor's eyes were red from no sleep. He stood at the window, watching the sunrise turn the sky blood-red.

"You should rest," Anya told him.

"Not until we find him."

A young soldier burst into the room. "Boss! We just got a message. It came through one of the burner phones."

He gave Viktor a piece of paper. On it were numbers—coordinates—and below them, two words: "Tomorrow. Midnight."

"It's a trap," Anya said instantly.

Viktor nodded. "Of course it is."

"So what do we do?"

Viktor looked at the paper. "We spring the trap."

Luca lost track of time in the windowless room. Hours had passed. Maybe a day. His body ached from the beating, but his mind stayed sharp.

They'd asked the same questions over and over. About the seal. About Viktor's plans. About their protection. Luca gave them nothing useful.

Finally, they left him alone. Luca tested his bonds again. The zip tie on his right wrist had loosened slightly. If he could work it free...

The door opened. Luca tensed, expecting the woman or the man with the knife.

Instead, a tall figure enters. Well-dressed. Silver-haired. Handsome in a cold way. Luca had never met him, but he knew instantly who it was.

"Mr. Moretti," Nikolai said easily. "I apologize for my associates' rough treatment. Quality help is so hard to find these days."

Luca said nothing, watching Nikolai carefully.

"You must be wondering why you're here," Nikolai continued, pulling up a chair to sit facing Luca. "Why I had you brought to me instead of simply killing you."

"The thought crossed my mind," Luca revealed.

Nikolai smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "You see, Mr. Moretti, I've been watching you and Viktor for a very long time. You've built something remarkable together."

He leaned forward. "And now I'm going to take it all away. Piece by piece."

Luca glared at him. "Viktor will find me. And when he does—"

"Oh, I'm counting on it," Nikolai interrupted. "In fact, I've already invited him to join us. Tomorrow night."

Cold fear gripped Luca's heart. "Don't underestimate him."

"I never underestimate my enemies," Nikolai responded. "But tell me something, Mr. Moretti. Do you think Viktor feels the same way about you as you do about him?"

Luca frowned. "What?"

"Would he trade his life for yours?" Nikolai asked. "Because tomorrow, that's exactly the choice I'm going to give him."

Viktor knelt beside Alexandra's bed in the safe house. She was finally sleeping after being saved along with Sofia from one of Nikolai's hideouts. The raid had cost him three more men, but the children were safe now.

Sofia's small hand reached out from under the blanket, finding Viktor's bigger one. Even in sleep, she held on tight.

"I'll fix this," Viktor whispered to both children. "I promise."

He gently freed his hand and left the room. In the hallway, his aide waited with news.

"We found something, boss. One of our men recognized the woman who took Luca. She works at the old paper mill outside town."

Viktor's face darkened. "Get everyone ready. We leave in one hour."

"But the coordinates said midnight tomorrow," the lieutenant complained.

"Exactly," Viktor said. "Which means Nikolai won't expect us tonight."

As Viktor walked away, his phone buzzed with a message. He looked at the screen and froze.

It was a movie. Of Luca. Bloody and beaten.

And below it, a new message from Nikolai:

"Come alone tomorrow, or watch him die, piece by piece. Starting with his eyes."