The other... is leaving for another family.
I dragged my gaze back to Ciro.
“Where is my Elena?”
Ciro’s eyes flicked toward the corridor door—calculating.
Planning.
Still hoping.
Pathetic.
“It’s not like you don’t know how this works. Even if you somehow run out of this room, you’ll be found—and killed. So stop acting like a child and own up to what you did.”
“Your death is inevitable. The only question is how painful I make it. Tell me where Elena is, and maybe... I’ll consider making it quick.”
His breathing quickened, and then—his knees gave out in complete surrender.
He dropped to the floor with a dull thud.
Hands raised instantly.
Desperate.
“Vincenzo... I’ve betrayed you. No words, no apology will ever earn your forgiveness. But please—send me away,” he begged, trembling. “Anywhere. Banish me. Take it all. Just... don’t kill me.”
“I shouldn’t have lusted after your wife.”
His head bowed.
Even now—he chose that word.
Lust.
“Even if you hated her,” he added quickly, desperate now, “she was yours.”
A pause.
“I know that now.”
My control snapped.
“I know where your parents live. Where your two sisters live—in Naples. None of them will be spared if Elena dies. For the last time—” I growled, “where is my wife?”
The silence shattered.
Eight guards burst through the double doors at the far end of the corridor—boots striking tile, weapons drawn, movements sharp and coordinated.
It was Renzo who had ordered them here.
“Hold him.”
His command cut through the space instantly.
The guards swarmed Ciro in seconds.
Rough hands grabbed his arms, pinned him, twisted him down.
