Chapter 146
The hospital corridor was filled with the distinct smell of disinfectant mixed with tension.
Victor quickened his pace to walk side by side with Vitale, trying to break the suffocating atmosphere with a light tone, "Relax, Vitale. Don't look like you're heading to your own funeral."
"Seriously, I don't think anyone would dare touch Isabella. Your name in Thalassia, and even across the whole Midwest circle, is the best protection. Everyone knows who she belongs to. Touch her? They'd have to be ready for their entire family to meet God early."
"That's in the mafia world, Victor," Vitale's voice was hoarse and cold, "Mafia folks know the rules, fear death, and understand what it means to mess with my people. But the anti-mafia crowd? They're different."
"You should see the look on their faces, Victor. I've interrogated plenty of peoplegreedy ones, scared ones, begging ones, tough ones, but these guys are different. There's a fanatic gleam in their eyes. It's not about money or power, but some self-righteous belief."
"They think they're doing the right thing, cleaning up 'scum' like us. For that belief, they're not afraid to die. They even seem to enjoy the sacrifice."
"Henley, one of my best men—calm, sharp, top-notch skills—got hurt bad by them. Stabbed in the gut, a bullet lodged in his leg, we almost didn't notice. This wasn't just an accident or them having more numbers. It shows they've got skilled people, a plan, and no hesitation."
Vitale's words left Victor silent.
He remembered the captive in the basement with that crazed look in his eyes, definitely different from the usual thugs.
Enemies like that are often trickier than plain brutes.
With a silent nod from the guards, the two walked through the quiet, luxurious corridor to Henley's room.
Pushing open the door, the first thing they saw wasn't the person on the bed, but Aria, sitting by the bedside, peeling an apple with her head down.
She looked up at the sound of the door, and when she saw Vitale, her previously calm expression instantly turned complicated.
There was concern and worry, but mostly a suppressed mix of dissatisfaction and blame.
On the bed, Henley's face was still pale, though his eyes had regained their usual sharp clarity. Yet, a lingering weakness and a hint of anxiety remained between his brows.
Seeing Vitale enter, he instinctively tried to sit up, as if to salute or show respect.
"Don't move!" Aria immediately pressed down on his shoulder.
She shot Henley a glare before turning to Vitale, her gaze unflinching as it met his. The accusation in her eyes was almost tangible.
Vitale didn't seem surprised by Aria's presence.
He glanced at Henley, then at Aria sitting close to the bed in an obvious protective stance. His face showed no emotion, just a barely noticeable raise of an eyebrow.
Henley, held down by Aria, looked a bit awkward. A faint, unnatural flush appeared on his pale face as he quietly explained to Vitale, "Boss, we just confirmed our relationship. Last time outside the bar, Ms. Lorraine introduced us."
His voice grew quieter, clearly uncomfortable discussing personal matters at a time like this, especially with Vitale visibly burdened by bigger concerns.
Vitale nodded, his expression still unreadable.
His gaze returned to Henley, cutting straight to the point, "I need you to get better soon. Preferably right now, able to get out of bed."
The words sounded harsh, even cold.
Henley had just undergone major surgery and lost a lot of blood. He needed rest right now.
But Henley knew Vitale. He wouldn't say something like that without reason.
A bad feeling gripped him instantly.
Ignoring his weakness and Aria's disapproving look, he asked urgently, "Boss, is it Ms. Lorraine...?"
He couldn't finish the sentence, just stared at Vitale nervously.
Vitale was silent for a few seconds. A flicker of undeniable frustration and heaviness finally showed in his gray-blue eyes, "Yes, we suspect it's likely the anti-mafia group. They took advantage of the chaos, slipped in, and took her."
"What?"
The strongest reaction didn't come from Henley, but from Aria.
She shot up from her chair, the apple in her hand dropping to the floor and rolling into a corner.
Her eyes widened in disbelief, filled with shock and a sudden burst of anger, "Isabella was taken? My best friend, Isabella? On your turf, in your castle, she was taken?"
Aria's voice turned sharp with emotion. She pointed at Vitale, her body trembling with rage, "You're the big mafia boss, aren't you? The most powerful? Weren't you supposed to protect her? How could you fail even at that? What right do you have to say you care about her? What right do you have to drag her into your dirty, dark world? And now look! She's in trouble! It's all your fault! All of it!"
The air in the room froze instantly.
Victor, standing by the door, sucked in a breath, instinctively looking at Vitale.
Henley also stared at Aria in shock. He knew she was straightforward and bold, but he didn't expect her to yell at Vitale like this, every word hitting hard.
Other than Isabella, he'd never seen any woman dare speak to Vitale in such a tone.
After her outburst, Aria's chest heaved violently, her face flushed with emotion. But seeing Vitale's terrifyingly blank expression, a trace of fear crept into her heart.
Yet she was all in now. Isabella was her best friend, and Henley was the man she'd just started dating, someone she cared about. Now, one was missing, and the other lay injured in a hospital bed.
To her, the root of all this was Vitale and the dangerous world he represented.
She wasn't scared anymore. She had to let it out.
Victor watched Vitale nervously. Knowing his cousin, this direct, almost offensive accusation—especially when Vitale was already on edge—could easily snap his last thread of patience.
He was already thinking about how to step in if Vitale lost it, or at least how to save Aria's skin.
For Henley's sake.
But to everyone's surprise, Vitale didn't explode or even raise his voice.
He just stood there, quietly taking Aria's anger and blame.
After a few seconds, he slowly spoke, his voice carrying a chilling sense of resignation, "You're right."
He looked up at Aria, pain and agreement in his eyes, "It's all my fault."
Those words, like a bucket of ice water, stunned Aria, who had been trembling with rage.
She'd braced herself for shouting, threats, even violence, but not this calm, heavy admission of guilt.
Yet after the initial shock, a stronger wave of mixed sadness and anger surged through her.
Aria looked at the genuine pain and guilt in Vitale's eyes. Instead of feeling satisfied, it made her more upset and even more heartbroken for Isabella.
"What's the point of admitting it now?" Aria's voice cracked, tears welling up in her eyes, "Isabella is gone! If anything happens to her, Vitale, I'm warning you—if you don't bring her back to me safe and sound, not a hair out of place, I'll never let you go! I'll haunt you like a ghost, showing up when you eat, when you sleep! Even if Henley works for you, even if you might kill me, I'll still haunt you! I'll make sure you never forget that you're the reason she's gone!"
This almost childish, reckless threat was filled with the most genuine friendship and fury.
Victor, hearing this, tried to lighten the mood with a laugh, "You're Aria, right? Isn't that a bit much? Henley's right here, you know, and with that kind of threat..."
"What I mean is, let's calm down first. Solving the problem is what matters, right?"
As he spoke, he shot Aria a look, signaling her to stop while she was ahead. Pushing Vitale too far wouldn't help anyone.