My phone buzzes. Matteo.
"Boss? Everything alright?"
"Fine. What's the status on Torretti's network?"
"We're rolling up his entire operation. Client lists, safe house locations, other victims. His operation was bigger than we thought. At least fifteen women currently in his facilities across Italy."
"Get them out. All of them. Arrange safe transport, medical care, whatever they need."
"Already in progress. Some will want to go home, some have nowhere to go. We're coordinating with a couple of groups."
"I don't care what it costs. Just handle it."
A pause. "This isn't like you, boss."
"A lot of things aren't like me anymore." I set down my glass. "What about Lorenzo Rossi?"
"He's at the family estate. Hasn't left since news of his father's death broke. Seems to be handling funeral arrangements and business transitions."
Lorenzo.
The bastard who stepped aside and watched his bride get kidnapped. Who chose family reputation over protecting the woman he was supposed to marry. Who probably thinks he's safe now that his father is dead and Torretti is out of the picture.
He's wrong.
"I want surveillance on him. Full detail. I want to know every move he makes, every conversation he has, every breath he takes."
"Planning something specific?"
"Planning to keep my promise to Camilla." I stand up, needing movement. "She wants him to pay for what he did. I intend to make sure he does."
"What kind of payment are we talking about?"
"The kind that destroys everything he values without making her into a killer. Financial ruin, social humiliation, professional destruction. I want him to lose everything the way she lost her sense of self, her ability to trust."
"That's unusually restrained for you, boss."
"Camilla doesn't want blood on her hands. So, we find other ways to make him suffer."
"Understood. How long do we have?"
"However long it takes. This isn't about timelines anymore."
"And what does she need?"
"I don't know. And that's the problem."
"Boss?"
"Nothing. Just handle the Lorenzo surveillance. I'll call you tomorrow with specific instructions."
I hang up and try to distract myself. Business reports. Security protocols. Legitimate investments. Nothing works because nothing matters except the question I can't answer: what is she thinking?
For the first time in my adult life, I'm completely powerless.
I can't buy what I want, can't threaten anyone into giving it to me, can't manipulate circumstances to ensure my preferred outcome. I can only wait.
And waiting is the one thing I've never learned how to do.
