Chapter 29 The Hunt Begins

Chapter 29 The Hunt Begins

Marcella's POV

The private plane was smaller than I expected. Sleek and expensive, but intimate. Just Lorenzo, Vito, four other men whose names I didn't know, and me.

I sat in one of the leather seats, staring out the window as Sicily disappeared beneath us. My hands were clean now, I'd scrubbed them in Salvatore's bathroom before we left, but I could still feel the way the knife had slid between his ribs.

I'd killed two men in three days.

The thought should have horrified me. It should have made me sick with guilt.

It didn't.

All I felt was a cold, hollow satisfaction. Two people who'd helped destroy my family were dead. Now there were only two left.

Giovanni. Cesare Conti.

Lorenzo slid into the seat beside me, his hand immediately finding mine.

"You're quiet."

"I'm thinking."

"About?"

"About how easy it was. Killing him." I looked at Lorenzo. "Does that make me a monster?"

"No. It makes you someone who understands justice." His thumb stroked across my knuckles. "Salvatore deserved what he got. So did the man at the vineyard. You did what needed to be done."

"But I didn't hesitate. I didn't feel anything."

"You will. Later. When the adrenaline fades and you're alone with your thoughts." He lifted my hand to his lips. "But even then, you won't regret it. Because deep down, you know they earned their deaths."

I leaned my head against his shoulder, exhausted suddenly. "What happens when we find Giovanni?"

"He's yours. Like I promised." Lorenzo's voice went hard. "But Cesare is mine. I want you to stay back when we engage him. He's dangerous in ways Giovanni isn't."

"I can handle myself."

"I know you can. But I need to know you're safe. If something happens to you...." He stopped, his jaw clenching. "I can't think about that and stay focused."

"Nothing's going to happen to me."

"Promise me anyway. Promise you'll be careful."

I lifted my head and kissed him. "I promise."

\---

We landed in Marrakech six hours later. The heat hit me the moment we stepped off the plane thick and dry, so different from Sicily's coastal air.

A car was waiting. Two cars, actually. Black SUVs with tinted windows.

"How did you arrange this so fast?" I asked as we climbed into the back of the first vehicle.

"I have contacts everywhere," Lorenzo said. "The man who owns this car owes me a favor. Several favors, actually."

The drive into the city was chaotic. Narrow streets packed with people, motorbikes weaving through traffic, the calls to prayer echoing from mosques. The old city was a maze of winding alleys and tall buildings pressed close together.

Our driver stopped outside a traditional riad a house built around a central courtyard.

"This is ours for the next two days," Lorenzo explained. "It's secure. Private. No one will bother us here."

Inside, the riad was beautiful. Tiled floors, carved wood, and a fountain in the center of the courtyard. But I barely noticed the details.

"Where's the villa?" I asked. "The one Salvatore told us about."

Lorenzo pulled out his phone and showed me a map. "Here. About a mile from the main square. Old city, wealthy neighborhood. High walls, limited access."

"So how do we get in?"

"We scout it first. Tonight, after dark. See how many guards he has, what the layout is." Lorenzo looked at his men. "Vito, you and Marco take the north approach. Luca and Dante, south. I want full surveillance. Photos, guard rotations, everything."

"And us?" I asked.

"We wait." He caught my chin, tilting my face up to his. "And we rest. You haven't slept properly in days."

"I'm fine."

"You're running on adrenaline and rage. It'll catch up to you." He kissed my forehead. "Come on. There's a bedroom upstairs."

\---

The room was small but comfortable. A large bed, gauzy curtains, a balcony overlooking the courtyard.

Lorenzo closed the door behind us and immediately pulled me into his arms.

"I need you," he said against my hair.

"Lorenzo...."

"I know we should rest. I know we should focus on the mission. But I can't stop thinking about how close we came to dying at that vineyard. How easily I could have lost you."

His hands slid under my shirt, warm and possessive.

"I need to feel you. Need to know you're real. That you're here."

I understood. Because I felt it too. The desperate need to connect, to prove we were alive.

I kissed him, hard and demanding. He responded immediately, lifting me and carrying me to the bed.

We stripped each other quickly, frantically. When he pushed inside me, I gasped at the intensity of it.

"Look at me," he commanded.

I did.

"I love you," he said, moving slowly, deeply. "I love you and I'm not letting anything happen to you. Do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Say it back."

"I love you." I giggled.

He kissed me then, swallowing my moans as he took me higher. When I came, it was with his name on my lips and his body surrounding mine.

Afterward, we lay tangled together, the Moroccan heat making our skin slick with sweat.

"We should shower," I murmured.

"In a minute." His hand stroked down my spine. "Let me hold you a little longer."

I closed my eyes, feeling safe despite everything. Despite the violence waiting for us. Despite Giovanni being less than a mile away.

In Lorenzo's arms, I was home.

\---

We must have dozed off, because when I opened my eyes again, the light had changed. The room was darker, cooler.

Lorenzo was already awake, watching me with those intense dark eyes.

"How long did we sleep?"

"Two hours. The men should be back soon with their report."

I sat up, suddenly nervous. "What if Giovanni's not there? What if he left?"

"Then we find him again. But Salvatore's information was fresh. Giovanni thinks he's safe here. He won't run yet."

We dressed in dark clothes, jeans, long sleeves, leather jackets, and boots. I braided my hair back tightly. Lorenzo checked his gun, then handed me a smaller one.

"Do you know how to use it?"

"My father taught me when I was sixteen. Said every woman should know how to protect herself."

Something flickered in Lorenzo's eyes. Pain, maybe. Or regret.

"What?" I asked.

"I wish I could have known him. Your father. Before all of this."

"He would have liked you. Once he got past the whole mafia don thing." I smiled slightly. "He was practical. Would have respected your intelligence. Your loyalty."

"Even after I married his daughter for revenge?"

"Especially after that. He valued strategy." My smile faded. "I just wish he'd told me the truth. About Giovanni. About being involved in your world."

"He was trying to protect you."

"I know. But maybe if I'd known, I could have protected him."

Lorenzo pulled me close. "This isn't your fault. None of it is. Giovanni made his choices. Cesare made his. Your father made his. You're just living with the consequences."

A knock on the door interrupted us.

"Don," Vito's voice called. "We're back."

\---

Downstairs, the men spread photos and notes across the dining table.

"Eight guards," Vito reported. "Four outside, four inside. They rotate every six hours. The north wall is the weakest point, with only one camera, and it has a blind spot near the gate."

"Weapons?" Lorenzo asked.

"Semi-automatics. Handguns. Nothing we can't handle."

"And Giovanni?"

"We saw him through a window. Third floor. He was with Cesare. They were arguing about something."

My pulse quickened. "Cesare's there too?"

"Yes. Which means this is our chance to end both of them." Lorenzo studied the photos. "We go in tonight. Two hours before dawn, when they're tired and the guards are at their weakest."

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"Vito's team takes the north entrance. Creates a distraction, draws the guards away. My team goes in through the south quieter, faster. We get to the third floor, separate Cesare and Giovanni, and finish this."

"And me?"

Lorenzo looked at me. "You come with me. But you stay behind Gustavo here. If something goes wrong, He will get you out. No arguments."

"Lorenzo...."

"No arguments, Marcella. I need to know you're protected so I can focus on Cesare."

I wanted to fight him on it. But I saw the fear in his eyes, hidden beneath the cold planning. He was terrified of losing me.

"Okay," I said quietly. "I'll stay with Gustavo."

"Good." He turned back to the photos. "We leave at three. Everyone get rest and check your weapons. This ends tonight."

\---

I couldn't sleep.

I lay in bed next to Lorenzo, listening to his steady breathing, and all I could think about was Giovanni.

My uncle. The man who'd held me when I cried. Who'd taught me to ride a bike. Who'd sat beside my father at family dinners and smiled like he loved us.

He'd murdered them all.

And in a few hours, I'd have the chance to kill him.

The thought should have scared me. Should have made me hesitate.

It didn't.

"You're thinking too loud," Lorenzo murmured in the darkness.

"Sorry."

He rolled over, pulling me against him. "Are you having doubts?"

"No. I just keep seeing his face. Remembering who he used to be."

"He was never who you thought he was. The mask was always there. You just couldn't see it."

"I should have seen it."

"You were a child. Then a student. You trusted your family because that's what you're supposed to do." His hand stroked my hair. "The betrayal is on him, not you."

"Will it feel different? Killing him instead of a stranger?"

"Yes. It'll hurt more. Feel more personal. But it'll also feel right. Like closing a wound that's been bleeding for too long."

I turned in his arms to face him. "Have you ever killed someone you loved?"

His expression shuttered. "Once. My uncle, on my father's side. He challenged me for control of the family. Said I was too young, too soft. I gave him a chance to walk away." He paused. "He didn't take it."

"Did you regret it?"

"No. But I mourned what could have been. The family we could have had if he'd chosen differently."

I kissed him softly. "Thank you for telling me."

"We don't keep secrets anymore. Not from each other."

"No more secrets," I agreed.

We lay there in the darkness, holding each other, until the alarm went off.

It was time to hunt.