Chapter Ninety-nine – Splinters of Hope

Chapter Ninety-nine – Splinters of Hope


The general sat with his back to the window, a blanket over his knees, a beer in his hand. He looked older than his file said. His eyes tracked them, slow and wary.

“You’re late,” he said.

Bianca put a thin folder on the table. “Let’s talk.”

He took a long sip and shrugged. “Talk then. I don’t have much patience.”

Giulia didn’t wait. She reached forward and grabbed him by the collar. The man didn’t flinch. He had seen wrestlers and gunfights and worse.

“You knew,” Giulia spat. “You knew what they did to her.”

The general made a small noise that might have been a laugh. “What I knew and what I did are different things.”

Bianca’s hand pressed against Giulia’s arm, hard enough to hurt but not to stop her completely. “Keep your hands to yourself,” she said.

Giulia pulled back, breath coming out fast. “Tell me everything. Where is she? Who trained her? Who bought her?”

The general set his beer down and rubbed his face. “Calm down, girl. I’ll speak when I must. Threats don’t make facts come quicker.”

Bianca leaned forward. “You sold children. You trained them. You worked for Lucian. Say it again and I’ll break your hand.”

Silence filled the room. The general’s jaw moved. He looked at both women with a tired, almost bored expression.

“Lucian didn’t call me a general for nothing,” he said finally. “I taught them to fight like men. I broke them first, then trained them. The girl you asked about was one of the ones they kept for leverage. They wanted something to hold over the Delucas. They wanted a weapon that would answer only their orders.”

Giulia’s face went hard. “Geneva. Did you know her name?”

The general’s eyes darkened. “Names change in our business. I knew a girl. They called her Genevieve later. Showed promise. Quick, obedient when they needed obedience. Dangerous when they wanted it.”

Giulia’s fingers dug into the edge of the table. “So she’s alive.”

“For a long time she was alive,” the general said. “Then she became useful in ways that don’t include calling a mother. They cut her free will to make her a tool.”

Giulia pushed to her feet. “You’ll tell me where.”

The general stared at her. “Why should I help you?”

Bianca’s voice was low and steady. “Because you were paid by the same people who burned their hands on our family. You want to sleep at night. Help us and maybe you do. Refuse and you don’t.”

He looked at Bianca for a long time, then nodded once. “There are places. Old safe houses. Training rings. She was moved more than once. They kept her inside a shell. They made her hate anyone who reminds her of her birth family.”

Giulia’s lips moved but no sound came out. She sat back down, knuckles white.

“Was she trained to kill us?” she asked.

The general met her eyes. “They taught her to kill anyone who smelled like home. They told her her family abandoned her. They fed her lies until she believed them.”

Giulia’s breath left in a small sound. “So if we find her, she might try to kill us first.”

The room felt too small. Bianca reached across and put her hand on Giulia’s knee, steadying her. “Then we do it carefully. We don’t storm in blind.”

The general shrugged. “You think that’s the worst? They don’t only train. They break and rebuild. If you find her, she won’t recognize you. She will think you are the enemy.”

Giulia stood up, furious. “You sold her.”

“It’s worse,” the general said. “I didn’t sell her. I taught her to be a weapon. She is their perfect blackmail. If you find her, she’ll either be dead, or she’ll be the one who kills you.”

Bianca’s eyes didn’t leave his. “Where is she now?”

The general opened his mouth, then shut it. For a breathless second he looked like a man with a choice. Then he smiled, tired and sharp.

“You find her,” he said slowly, “and I’ll tell you everything else. But remember what I said: if you find her… she won’t recognize you. She’ll kill you first.”

Giulia’s fingers curled. Inside the folder on the table there was a list, a map with a few names. Bianca slid it toward her. “We start with this,” she said.

Outside, the rain started up again, steady and small. The city didn’t care about promises or threats. The work ahead was simple and brutal and unavoidable. They left the building with papers in their hands and a warning inside their ears.

The safehouse was quiet, only the sound of the rain hitting the roof. Isabella sat at the table, scrolling through encrypted messages while Dante stood by the window, arms crossed.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Nothing from Giulia,” she replied, not looking up. “It’s been over a week.”

Dante muttered under his breath. “That’s not like her.”

“I know.” Isabella sighed. “Bianca must be with her. Maybe they’re laying low.”

“Or maybe something went wrong,” he said flatly.

She looked at him. “Don’t start.”

He didn’t respond. He turned away, staring outside. The street was empty, a car passing every few minutes. He hated hiding. It made him feel useless.

A door opened down the hall. Luca walked in holding a folder. “We got something,” he said, dropping it on the table. “Contacts from Berlin confirmed activity. Some old Consortium men are moving through private airports.”

Dante opened the file, flipping through the pages. “These names again,” he muttered. “They keep showing up in everything.”

“Because they’re the ones keeping the network alive,” Luca said. “They’re trading people, documents, locations.”

Isabella frowned. “Documents?”

“Lists,” Luca said. “Names of everyone who’s been sold, trained, or conditioned. It’s how we found out about Geneva’s last transfer.”

Dante’s jaw clenched. “Then that’s where we start.”

Luca nodded. “There’s one contact willing to talk. But he wants money. And he wants to meet in person.”

“Where?” Dante asked.

“Outside Warsaw,” Luca said. “He won’t talk over the phone.”

Dante closed the file. “Get the car ready.”

\---

They were on the road within the hour. The city lights faded behind them as they drove. Isabella kept glancing at her phone, waiting for a message from Giulia that never came.

“Maybe Bianca turned her phone off for a reason,” Dante said finally.

“Yeah. Maybe,” Isabella muttered.

“You don’t believe that?”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” she said. “They’re not new to this. If something happened, we’d know.”

Dante stayed quiet. His hand tightened on the steering wheel. “You trust Bianca too much.”

“She’s my mother,” Isabella said.

“I know that,” he replied. “But she’s not the same woman she used to be.”

“Neither are you,” she said quickly.

He didn’t answer. The silence stretched until she turned the radio on, static filling the space.

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