Chapter 60 Behind the mask
Carlino’s POV
The highway is sealed within minutes. Two SUVs block the front. Another cages the rear. My men move with surgical precision, weapons drawn but steady. Headlights wash over the lone vehicle idling between us.
A masked man steps out slowly.
Black coat. Black gloves. Face concealed beneath a matte mask that reflects nothing. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t posture. Just stands there like he belongs.
I stepped out of my SUV, the cold biting through my shirt. Lina moves to follow. “Behind me,” I say without looking at her.
She exhales sharply but obeys—barely. The masked man tilts his head. “The infamous Carlino,” he calls out, voice deep, distorted slightly by whatever device he’s using.
My men stiffen. I don’t.
“You breached my gate,” I reply evenly. “You drove through my perimeter like a child begging for attention.”
A soft chuckle echoes from behind the mask. “And yet, here you are.”
He’s close enough now that I can see the way he carries himself. Confident. Trained.
“You could’ve shot,” I say. “You didn’t.”
“You could’ve chased immediately,” he counters. “You didn’t.”
“So this is a demonstration?” I ask.
“A reminder.”
My jaw tightens. “Of what?”
“That you’re not untouchable.”
Behind me, I feel Lina shift slightly. Not scared. Assessing.
“You don’t show your face,” I say. “You hide behind distortion.”
“And you hide behind reputation,” he shoots back smoothly. “We all wear something.”
The air grows heavier. My men look to me for permission. For escalation.
Not yet.
“You have a name?” I ask.
“You can call me what your nightmares do.” He’s enjoying this.
“You resurfaced tonight for theatrics?” I ask calmly. “Or do you intend to make a move?”
“Tonight was courtesy,” he says. “Next time won’t be.”
A threat.
I step closer, close enough that my men tense. “You think driving through my gate proves something?”
“It proved you reacted exactly as predicted.”
I don’t blink. “Predicted by whom?”
He pauses. Just enough to be deliberate. “Someone who knows you.”
A ripple runs through my thoughts. Inside help. Again.
“You’re not my first enemy,” I tell him.
“No,” he agrees softly. “But I may be the last.”
That earns him a few raised weapons from my men.
Behind me, Lina’s breathing shifts. Subtle. Too subtle for most.
Not for me.
“You speak boldly for a man who hides his face,” I say, keeping my tone flat.
“And you stand boldly beside a weakness,” he replies.
The words land. My men bristle. I feel Lina stiffen behind me.
“You mistake her,” I say quietly.
“Do I?” His head tilts again. “You moved faster for her than you ever have for territory.”
Silence.
He noticed that.
“I study patterns,” he continues. “Yours changed.”
He’s been watching longer than tonight. “Get to your point,” I say.
“My point,” he says smoothly, “is that you built an empire on predictability. I intend to dismantle it.”
“With riddles?” I ask.
“With patience.”
Lina shifts again. This time it isn’t subtle. I glance back briefly. Her face looks pale beneath the flashing lights. Too pale.
“You alright?” I murmur under my breath.
“I’m fine,” she says quietly. Too quickly.
The masked man notices the exchange. Of course he does. “There,” he says softly. “That right there.”
My gaze snaps back to him.
“You’re distracted.”
“By you?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “By her.”
The insult is deliberate.
“Careful,” I warn.
“Or what?” he challenges. “You’ll shoot a man who hasn’t fired at you?”
He’s right. He hasn’t. This is psychological. “You came to measure response time,” I say. “To test reaction radius. To see how far you could push.”
He gives a small bow. “And I got what I needed.”
My jaw tightens. “You’ll need more than theatrics to dismantle me,” I say.
“Perhaps,” he replies. “But you’ve already started dismantling yourself.”
Before I can respond, there’s a soft sound behind me. A stagger. I turn. Lina’s hand grips the side of the SUV. Her knuckles are white. Her breathing was shallow.
“Lina.”
“I said I’m fine,” she snaps, though her voice wavers.
The masked man watches with unsettling calm. “She doesn’t look fine,” he observes.
“Stay out of it,” I growl.
She takes one step forward as if to prove something—and her body sways.
I move before she hits the ground. She collapses against me, completely limp. For half a second, everything freezes. Then the world detonates.
“Move!” I bark.
Two men surround us instantly. Another raises his weapon toward the masked man.
He doesn’t advance. He doesn’t retreat. He simply watches.
“How unfortunate,” he says quietly. “Timing is everything.”
My pulse roars in my ears. “Get the car!” I ordered.
I lift her into my arms. She’s light. Too light. Her skin feels cold.
“Don…” one of my men starts.
“Stand down,” I snapped.
The masked man spreads his hands slightly. “We’ll finish this conversation.”
“You won’t,” I replied coldly.
“Oh,” he says, voice almost amused. “We absolutely will.”
I won't wait.
I carry her into the SUV myself. The door slams shut. “Drive.” The engine roars.
As we speed away, I look back once through the rear window. He’s still standing there. Unbothered.