Chapter 154
Vitale left the villa and got into the waiting black sedan. He immediately dialed Victor's encrypted phone.
The partition in the car rose, separating him from the driver.
"Victor, how's it going?" Vitale's voice was low, with a faint tremble that was hard to notice—a sign of barely suppressed anxiety and urgency.
On the other end of the line, Victor's voice came through, slightly hoarse and irritated, with the sound of wind and faint engine noise in the background, "Not great, Vitale. We followed the plan, took those captives as a decoy, got to the dock area, and sent the signal just like they instructed in the video."
"At first, someone did respond. They gave us a coordinate through an encrypted channel, telling us to go to another location—a deserted cargo station in the north of the city."
Victor spat, then continued, "We rushed over there like crazy, but right when we reached the outskirts, before we could even set up, we got a new message. The location changed again. This time, it's an old warehouse in the west district. We're like dogs on a leash, being led around by their encrypted signals. These bastards are incredibly sly!"
Vitale's grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and the image of Isabella's terrified face from the video flashed in his mind, along with that lewd laugh and the hand touching her...
Every second of delay felt like a knife stabbing deeper into his heart.
"They're this cunning..." Vitale's voice grew heavier, "because someone's helping them. There's an expert behind the scenes, directing them, dodging our tracking, and playing with us."
"You know, Victor, my father's old lawyer, Marco—the guy who stayed by his side for over a decade, who knows every detail of the family's operations, weaknesses, even our secret methods."
"He's very skilled. My father once said he understood how to survive and play the game in this world's gray areas better than any strategist in the family."
Vitale paused, his tone filled with confusion and cold hatred, "But I can't figure it out. Why would he become the leader of an anti-mafia group? He was mafia! He climbed to his position using our rules! Why would he turn against us?"
Victor was silent for a few seconds on the other end, then let out a bitter chuckle, "If you can't figure it out, don't bother, Vitale. Now's not the time to analyze that cunning bastard's motives."
"The only thing that matters right now is getting Isabella back safe and sound from those lunatics. Everything else can wait. Once she's safe, you can drag Marco out and have a long chat with him however you want."
Trying to lighten the tense mood, he made an ill-timed joke, "Honestly, Vitale, I never paid much attention to your Isabella before, but after seeing that video—God, if I were into women, do you think I'd fall for her too?"
"I mean, just hypothetically, in that situation, she looked so fragile yet so stubborn. There's something really special about her."
"Victor!" Vitale's voice suddenly shot up, a furious warning, "Shut the hell up! Don't even think about it! There's no 'hypothetically'! Even if you were into women, I wouldn't give you a single chance to touch a hair on her head! Don't even dream about it! Keep your thoughts to yourself and focus on the task!"
On the other end, Victor seemed stunned by the sudden outburst of anger, then quickly apologized, his tone becoming serious, "Alright, alright, bad joke. I won't make it again. Sorry, Vitale. I just wanted to help you relax a bit. You sound like you're about to snap."
Vitale didn't respond to the apology.
He didn't need to relax. He needed Isabella.
A sharp headache hit him again, like countless steel needles jabbing into his brain, accompanied by nausea and dizziness.
Vitale pressed hard on his temple, his nails almost digging into his skin, trying to fight pain with pain.
As long as Isabella wasn't safely back, he couldn't afford even a moment of ease.
The brief numbness from alcohol had long worn off, leaving only sharper pain and burning anxiety.
"Where are you? Give me the exact location of the new coordinate," Vitale forced himself to focus, his voice weak from the headache.
Victor gave him an address, "Our guys are setting up around the perimeter, but we're keeping our distance to avoid tipping them off. The warehouse looks like it's been abandoned for ages, but the surrounding area is complicated with poor visibility. We need more detailed intel on the inside before we can move."
"I'm heading over now." Vitale hung up, gave the address to the driver, and ordered, "Fastest speed possible."
The car sped through the night, running several red lights, racing toward the western suburbs.
Vitale leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, his body trembling slightly from the persistent headache and anxiety.
He felt his sanity like a rubber band stretched to its limit, ready to snap at any moment.
When Vitale arrived at the location Victor mentioned, what he saw wasn't the abandoned warehouse he'd expected.
Instead, it was a neatly planned, quiet area of standalone villas, completely different from the image of a warehouse.
Victor, along with two of his men, was hiding in an inconspicuous van parked in the shadow of a street corner, a safe distance from the target villa.
Seeing Vitale step out of the car and approach, Victor hurried over, his face showing both confusion and concern.
"The signal disappeared right here."
"The last encrypted communication was traced precisely to this house. But we've been watching for a while, and there's no unusual activity. No one's coming or going. The curtains are drawn, and it's quiet, like a normal home."
Vitale stared at the villa. Under the dim yellow porch light, everything looked so ordinary, so out of place.
This was nothing like the hideout of kidnappers he had imagined.
"The signal you tracked vanished here?" Vitale asked, keeping his voice low, though his headache made his tone more impatient, "Are you sure?"
"One hundred percent sure. Our equipment is top-notch," Victor nodded, then gave a bitter smile, "But this is just too weird. If Isabella is really being held in a place like this, Vitale, if we barge in, the cops will be here in minutes. What do we say then? That we suspect someone's kidnapped inside? Where's the proof? A single encrypted signal? And if it's not the kidnappers in there, we break in, and it's a huge mess. It'll be bad for your businessman image and for our next moves. Big trouble."
Vitale didn't say a word.
He stared at the villa, a storm brewing in his blue eyes.
Logic told him Victor was right. They couldn't just storm in. The risk was too high, and they might even hit the wrong target.
But he had no time.
He had no patience to slowly investigate and wait for so-called solid evidence.
Isabella was waiting for him.
Every second could mean something irreversible happening!
Just as the madness and logic battled fiercely in Vitale's mind, and he was on the verge of giving the order to attack regardless of the consequences, the side door of the villa opened.
A woman in a plain gray maid uniform stepped out, carrying a black garbage bag.
She didn't seem to notice Vitale and the others in the shadows, heading straight for the trash can in the corner of the yard.
As she tossed the garbage and turned to go back, her gaze casually swept across the street corner and landed on Vitale standing by the van.
The faint yellow streetlight outlined Vitale's tall, striking figure. Despite his pale face, furrowed brows, and the exhaustion and hostility from running around, his sharp, defined features still carried a stunning allure.
The maid paused, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.
She hesitated for a moment, then actually took a few steps toward Vitale, a smile spreading across her face as she spoke up first, "Good evening, sir. Are you lost? Do you need any help?"
Her eyes lingered on Vitale's face, clearly captivated by his looks.
Vitale was already irritated and battling a splitting headache. He had no interest in dealing with a stranger's small talk.
A flash of unhidden impatience and cold disdain passed through his eyes.
Victor, seeing this, quickly stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of Vitale, and took over the conversation, "Good evening, miss. Yeah, we're a bit lost. We're trying to find a friend's house, but the address seems off."
He tried to appear harmless, "We've been walking for a while and are pretty thirsty. Would it be okay to come in for a glass of water?"
As he spoke, Victor instinctively turned on his charm. He'd always been confident in his looks.
Sure enough, the maid's attention shifted, her eyes darting between Victor and Vitale, her heartbeat seemingly quickening.
Damn, what kind of night was this? Running into two incredibly handsome men at once.
A faint blush spread across her face, but reason quickly took over.
She was just a maid. Letting strangers into the house, especially two unknown men, was absolutely not allowed. It could cost her this hard-earned job.
"Gentlemen, I'm really sorry."
"I'm afraid I can't let you in. It's against the rules. I just work here. But if you really need help, I can go inside and ask my employer? See if she's willing to assist? Or at the very least, I can give you directions?"
She looked at Vitale, waiting for his response, her eyes full of anticipation.
Vitale stared at the small side door, so close yet possibly hiding Isabella.
In his mind, the image of Isabella bound, that hand touching her, that lewd laugh, roared like a curse once again.
His patience was completely gone.
The thread of his rationality finally snapped.
Vitale didn't answer the maid.
He didn't even glance at her again.
Before Victor could say another word to smooth things over, and while the hopeful smile still lingered on the maid's face, Vitale moved.
He suddenly raised his foot and, with all his strength, kicked hard at the seemingly flimsy side door!
A loud bang!
The wood around the lock splintered, and the small door was forced open, slamming against the wall inside with an even louder crash.
Then, amidst the maid's terrified scream, Vitale swiftly pulled a dagger from his waist and, without hesitation, pressed it against the fragile neck of the maid, who hadn't had time to run.
The sharp blade rested against her skin, carrying the chilling threat of death.
All her screams caught in her throat. Her body froze, her face pale as paper, her eyes bulging with sheer terror.
Vitale didn't look at her, only applying slight pressure with the dagger to ensure she couldn't move or make a sound.
Victor slapped his face and muttered under his breath, "Great, I hate dealing with police questions."