Understanding dawned in Jonah's eyes—the terrible realization that he'd traded his loyalty for nothing. That even after betraying Vittorio, even after giving Falco everything he'd asked for, he was still expendable.
"Please," Jonah begged. "I can still be useful. I know more about Ricci's operations—"
The gunshot echoed through the warehouse. Jonah's body jerked backward, a look of surprise frozen on his young face before he crumpled to the concrete floor.
I stared in horror as blood pooled beneath him, spreading across the cement floor like spilled paint. Even wounded, begging for his life, Falco had killed him without hesitation.
"That's what happens to people who disappoint me," Falco said conversationally, as if he hadn't just executed a man in cold blood. He turned back to me, his smile never wavering. "Take notes, sweetheart."
The message was clear—if Jonah, who had given Antonio everything, could be discarded so easily, what chance did I have?
Falco gestured to his remaining men. "Clean this up and get her back in position. We've got a new video to make."
Two men emerged from the shadows, grabbing my chair and roughly setting it upright. My head spun from the sudden movement, nausea threatening to overwhelm me again.
"Ricci thinks he's so smart," Falco continued, stepping over Jonah's body like it was debris. "But I'm always three steps ahead. His little spy gave me everything I needed—patrol routes, response times, tactical preferences. By now, half his rescue team is walking into my traps."
He gestured to one of the men, who handed him a phone. Falco turned the camera on me, his smile widening at whatever he saw on the screen.
"Say hello to your boyfriend," he taunted. "Tell him what happens when he thinks he can outsmart me."
I stared directly into the camera, summoning every ounce of defiance left in my battered body. In my peripheral vision, I could see Jonah's lifeless form—a reminder of how quickly loyalty could turn to betrayal, and how little that betrayal ultimately meant.
"You can't trust anyone," I said clearly, hoping Vittorio would understand the deeper meaning. "Even the people closest to you will sell you out for the right price."
Falco's hand connected with my face, cutting off my words. The world tilted sideways, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision.
As consciousness slipped away, one thought burned through the haze of pain:
Jonah had chosen his side and paid the ultimate price for it. But his death proved something important—in Falco's world, everyone was expendable. Everyone was already dead; they just didn't know it yet.
Including me.
CHAPTER 9
Vittorio
Blood pounded in my ears as I signaled to my men. The warehouse loomed before us—a massive, dilapidated structure on the outskirts of Newark’s industrial district. Satellite thermal imaging showed at least fifteen armed men inside, clustered in defensive positions.
And somewhere in that concrete hell was Sophie.
This was madness. I was risking my entire organization, my best men, everything I'd built—for one woman. The rational choice was to cut losses, write her off as collateral damage, and find another way to get to Antonio.
But as I stood there, I realized I'd already crossed a line I couldn't uncross. Some choices define you. Some losses destroy you. Losing Sophie would end me in a way that losing my empire never could.
I'd spent years building walls around my heart after Livia died. Sophie had torn them down without even trying.
"Remember," I whispered into my comm, "we move in synchronized teams. Alpha takes the east entrance, Bravo covers the loading bay, and Charlie secures the perimeter. No one fires until I give the command."
I checked my Glock one final time, the weight familiar in my hand. Beside me, Mateo nodded, his face a mask of concentration. We'd fought together for fifteen years, and I trusted him with my life.
"On my mark," I breathed. "Three… two… one…"
We breached the east entrance with surgical precision. The first guard never saw us coming—Mateo's silenced shot caught him between the eyes. The second managed to reach for his radio before I put two bullets in his chest.
"East entrance secure," I reported. "Moving to sector two."
The response came immediately: "Loading bay compromised! Taking heavy fire!"
