127

127
The black SUVs rolled to a silent stop at the edge of the crumbling vineyard. The hills of Liguria loomed over them, olive trees whispering in the wind like ghosts. Beyond the rusted gate stood the old safehouse—guarded, hidden, and brimming with secrets.

Vincenzo stepped out first. Clad in black, rage burning beneath his calm exterior, he surveyed the terrain. Artemus emerged beside him, checking his weapon and nodding to his team of elite operatives.

“She’s in there,” Artemus murmured. “And the boy.”

Vincenzo’s jaw clenched. He didn’t respond. He was already moving.

Two guards patrolled the gate. One was distracted, the other too relaxed.

Thup. Thup.

Silenced rounds dropped them both.

The team advanced.

Inside, Alejandra froze, staring at the surveillance feed.

“They’re here,” she whispered, dropping her wine glass. “Idiots—they came for him.”

The house descended into chaos. Lights flickered, then died.

Boom. A flashbang tore through the window.

Gunfire echoed. Shouts in Italian. Artemus’s team swept the compound like a storm. Vincenzo moved through the halls like a predator—cold, focused, and lethal.

He encountered Alejandra near the stairs. Her gun shook in her hand.

“You don’t understand,” she said, desperation in her eyes. “You’re walking into something you can’t undo.”

“You shouldn’t have touched my son.”

He shot the weapon clean out of her hand, the bullet grazing her wrist. She screamed and fell back.

“Vincenzo,” Artemus said through comms, “we’ve secured the west. Room at the end of the east hall—go.”

Vincenzo sprinted down the corridor. The door was locked.

One, two—crack—it burst open.

There, on the bed, sat Enzo—small, frightened, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

A single guard between them. Vincenzo raised his weapon and fired. The man collapsed.

He dropped his gun and knelt. “Enzo… It’s me. It’s Papa.”

Enzo trembled.

“It’s okay now. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, the boy launched himself into his arms.

Vincenzo clutched him tightly, holding his breath against the surge of emotion. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re safe now. I promise.”

He turned toward the door, ready to leave—when he heard it.

Click.

Too late.

Shots cracked through the air.

The pain was white-hot—sharp and sudden. Vincenzo gasped, stumbling forward as blood bloomed across his side.

“Enzo—” he gasped, instinctively shielding the boy with his body.

But another figure stepped into the room—tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in black tactical gear.

Antonio.

His face was unreadable. Cold. Calculating.

“Little brother,” he said softly, raising his weapon again. “You should’ve stayed away.”

Vincenzo tried to lift his gun, but his arm was numb. His vision blurred.

Antonio grabbed Enzo roughly from his arms. The boy screamed and kicked, trying to stay with his father.

“Don’t—” Vincenzo choked out. “Don’t touch him—”

But Antonio was already backing away, dragging the screaming child with him.

“You’ll live,” he muttered. “That’s the punishment.”

And then he vanished down the corridor with Enzo.

“Enzo!” Vincenzo shouted, blood soaking his shirt. He tried to crawl forward, but the world spun violently.

Artemus and two men burst in seconds later.

“Medic! Get a medic now!” Artemus dropped to his knees beside Vincenzo. “Stay with me!”

“They… took him… again…” Vincenzo gasped.

Artemus’s jaw clenched. “I saw. We’ll get him back. I swear it.”

But as Vincenzo slipped into unconsciousness, Enzo’s cries still echoed down the hall—fainter and fainter—until only silence remained.

.........................................

The air in the villa was so still, it felt wrong—like something terrible had just happened but hadn’t yet spoken its name.

Kadie stood by the window, eyes fixed on the long gravel road. She’d been pacing for over an hour, waiting for a call. Any call.

Her phone finally buzzed.

Camilla, across the room cleaning her weapon, turned at the sound.

Kadie snatched it up. “Artemus?”

His voice was low. Tight. “We found them.”

Relief poured into her bones. “And Enzo?”

A pause.

“Vincenzo got to him. He held him. He had him in his arms.” Another pause. “Antonio ambushed him. Shot him. Took Enzo again.”

The floor seemed to vanish beneath her feet.

“No,” Kadie whispered, barely able to form the word. “No. No, no, no!”

Camilla was already on her feet, storming across the room. “What do you mean, took him again? What the hell happened?”

Artemus continued, “Vincenzo’s stable. He’s being airlifted to Milan now. He lost a lot of blood.”

Kadie couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe.

The phone slipped from her fingers and hit the floor.

Camilla caught her just as she swayed, her legs buckling.

“No, no, no!” Kadie cried, pressing her hands to her face, a scream building in her chest. “He had him! Vincenzo had him!”

Camilla gripped her shoulders. “Look at me. Kadie, look at me!”

But Kadie shook her head violently, the anguish bursting through. “He was safe! He was safe, and now he’s not—again! What if this time… what if this time they kill him?”

Camilla’s throat worked around words that wouldn’t come. She’d seen horrors in her life—battlefield deaths, betrayals, blood-soaked floors. But nothing compared to watching a mother’s heart collapse in front of her.

“We’ll get him back,” Camilla said softly, though her voice shook. “I swear to you. We’ll burn the whole damn continent if we have to.”

Kadie turned on her. “We should’ve burned it already!”

She stormed toward the kitchen, flinging open drawers, pulling out papers, maps, and photos—anything that gave her purpose.

“We should’ve killed Antonio the moment we knew he was behind this! We waited. We hoped. We thought we were smarter than them, stronger—”

Camilla took a step forward. “Kadie—”

“No!” Kadie turned, her eyes wild with pain. “I want him dead. I want every man who touched my child dead. I want blood. I want every one of them to suffer.”

Camilla didn’t argue.

She simply nodded. “Then let’s finish this.”

Behind her, the hallway lit up with the flashing of Artemus’s team arriving back—one of them blood-streaked, another limping.

Camilla’s phone buzzed again. She looked at the screen. “They’ve secured the Liguria house. Antonio left nothing behind. But we might have a lead.”

Kadie’s hands trembled.

“If we’re going to move, we do it now,” Camilla said, locking eyes with her. “Before Antonio disappears again. Are you in?”

Kadie didn’t hesitate. “I’m not going to stop until my son is home. And Antonio is dead.”