AFTERMATH

AFTERMATH

Matteo’s POV

⸻

The explosion had not finished echoing in my bones when I forced myself to move.

Training took over before grief could grab me by the throat. I shouted orders until my voice went raw. Vehicles were already rolling, engines screaming as they turned toward the rendezvous point. The night was loud with sirens now, distant but closing fast. Red and blue lights flickered against the smoke like a warning we did not have time to respect.

The compound burned behind us.

Fire climbed the walls and swallowed what was left of the structure. Concrete collapsed inward. Metal screamed as it bent and broke. There was no sign of Dante. No movement. No shadow cutting through the flames.

Enzo ran past me with Aria in his arms.

She was shaking so hard her teeth rattled. Her hands clawed at his vest, her head twisted over his shoulder as she screamed Dante’s name again and again until her voice broke into nothing but soundless sobs. Enzo did not slow. He did not speak. He just held her tighter and kept moving.

“Withdraw,” I barked into comms. “Now. All units pull back.”

Someone protested. I did not hear who.

“Now,” I repeated, louder. Sharper. Final.

Reluctantly, the team fell back. Doors slammed. Tires tore at the ground. We left the fire behind because staying would have meant losing everyone.

Inside the extraction vehicle, the air was thick with smoke and blood and sweat. No one spoke. The engine roared beneath us as the road blurred past. Aria’s sobs filled the space, raw and broken, cutting through everything else.

Enzo sat with her braced against his chest, one arm locked around her back, the other steadying her shaking hands. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed forward. He did not look at me.

I watched from the front seat, my reflection faint in the dark window. Blood streaked my sleeves. Smoke burned my lungs every time I breathed. I kept my hands clenched together to stop them from shaking.

No one said Dante’s name.

Saying it felt like admitting something none of us were ready to face.

The safehouse lights cut through the dark like a promise that felt undeserved.

The moment we stopped, medics swarmed the vehicle. Orders overlapped. Doors flew open. Aria was lifted carefully from Enzo’s arms and rushed inside. Her crying never stopped, even as hands checked her pulse, her pupils, the bruises forming on her wrists.

“She’s dehydrated,” one medic said. “Shock. No major injuries.”

I stayed where I was.

They tried to push me out of the room. I refused. I planted my feet and stared them down until they worked around me instead. Enzo stood near the wall, silent, his clothes still stained with soot and blood. He had not taken his eyes off Aria once.

When she finally slipped into an exhausted half sleep, I stepped out.

“Get me everything,” I said to the tech team. “Now.”

Screens lit up again. Drone footage replayed from every angle we had. Thermal scans were run and rerun. Heat signatures flared and vanished beneath collapsing concrete and spreading fire.

“No confirmed body,” someone said quietly.

“No confirmed escape,” another added.

The Russians had evacuated their survivors fast. Vehicles leaving the area. Patterns breaking apart. Nothing clear. Nothing solid.

Dante was not on any list.

Alive or dead.

Something inside me snapped.

“We go back,” I said. “Now. Full sweep.”

The room went still.

“It’s too hot,” one of the men said. “Fire crews are locking it down.”

“I don’t care,” I snapped. “We go back.”

No one moved.

For a moment, command fractured. I felt it happen, felt the weight of my words hit men who were just as exhausted and just as hollowed out as I was.

Enzo stepped closer.

“Matteo,” he said quietly.

Not a warning. Not a challenge.

A reminder.

Reports came in before I could argue further. The compound had collapsed completely. Fire was still burning through the lower levels. No signs of life. No signals. No trace.

I went silent.

The words settled heavy and final in my chest.

I gave the order for continued surveillance and search at first light. My voice sounded distant even to me. Like it belonged to someone else.

Dawn crept in slowly. Pale light bleeding into the sky as smoke still rose on the horizon.

I stood outside alone and pulled my gloves off with shaking hands. The cold bit into my skin. I welcomed it. It gave me something real to feel.

Dante might be gone.

The thought did not scream. It did not explode.

It just sat there.

Heavy.

Unmovable.

⸻

Aria’s POV

⸻

I woke up to silence.

Not the heavy, threatening kind. Just quiet. Clean sheets brushed against my skin. A soft light glowed somewhere near the ceiling. Medical equipment hummed gently beside the bed.

For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming.

Then memory crashed back into me.

Fire. The explosion. Dante turning away. The space where he should have been.

My chest seized.

The scream tore out of me before I could stop it. My body curled in on itself as sobs wracked through me, violent and unstoppable. My hands shook. My breath came in broken gasps that burned my throat.

I could not make it stop.

The door opened fast.

Enzo was there first. Matteo right behind him.

They did not speak.

Enzo sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped an arm around me, grounding me against his solid warmth. Matteo took my wrist gently, holding it steady so I did not hurt myself in the shaking.

I cried into the space between them, every sound raw and ugly and real.

“You left him,” I choked finally. “You left him there.”

My voice turned sharp with grief. I did not care.

Matteo did not flinch.

“We searched,” he said quietly. “We are still searching.”

“You should have gone back,” I snapped. “You should have stayed.”

He nodded once. Accepted it.

“We will not stop,” he said. “I promise you.”

His voice cracked on the last word.

The anger drained out of me, leaving nothing but exhaustion. My body gave in, heavy and weak. My eyes burned. My head throbbed.

I fell asleep like that. Broken. Safe. Not whole.

When morning light filtered through the window, I woke again.

Enzo was still by the door. Matteo was still nearby.

Three people awake.

One missing.

The room felt too quiet to hold all that loss.

And Dante’s fate remained unknown.