"Which direction?"
"East. Toward the waterfront. But Elio, that was twenty minutes ago. They could be anywhere by now."
I forced myself to breathe. To think. To function despite the terror clawing at my chest.
Professional job. Tranquilizer guns. Three men. Black van. This wasn't random. This was planned. Organized. Someone with resources and training.
I moved to where the guards had been standing. Looked at the scene with professional eyes despite my hands shaking.
Two tranquilizer darts on the ground. Orange fletching. Standard veterinary supply. Could be purchased legally. Untraceable.
Scuff marks on the pavement. Signs of a brief struggle. Julian had tried to fight. Of course he had. He was brave. Stubborn. Wouldn't go quietly.
Witnesses were still clustered nearby. I approached them systematically. Got descriptions. Three men, all in their thirties,fit, professional movements. Black cargo van with no plates visible. Headed east.
One witness—elderly woman who'd been in the coffee shop—said she'd heard them speak. "One said 'Got him. Move.' That's all. Very calm. Very organized."
I checked security cameras from nearby businesses. The coffee shop had exterior cameras. So did the convenience store across the street.
On the footage I watched it happen. Watched Julian standing there peacefully. Texting on his phone. Probably texting me.
Watched three men approach. Fast. Purposeful. Tranquilizer guns already raised.
Watched my security team try to react. Too slow. The attackers were better trained. Took them out in seconds.
Watched Julian turn to run. Watched the dart hit his neck. Watched him pull it out but too late. Watched his legs give out. Watched them catch him. Lift him. Carry him to the van.
Watched the van drive away with the person I loved unconscious in the back.
My chest was so tight I couldn't breathe. My vision was tunneling. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold my phone.
Julian. They had Julian.
Someone had taken him. Was holding him somewhere. Doing God knows what to him.
I was going to kill them. Slowly. Thoroughly. Make them regret every second of this.
But first I had to find him.
I called Sandro. "Emergency meeting. My office. Now. All partners. Julian's been kidnapped."
Twenty minutes later I was in my office with all three partners. Sandro. Matteo. Luca. Plus Stefan looking guilty and terrified in equal measure.
I forced myself to present the facts calmly. Professionally. Like this was just another security incident. Like my entire world wasn't collapsing.
"Three men. Professional execution. Tranquilizer guns. Took out both security guards before grabbing Julian. Total operation time was under thirty seconds. They knew what they were doing. This wasn't opportunistic. It was planned."
"Who?" Sandro's voice was cold. Deadly. "Who would dare?"
I'd been asking myself that question since the moment Matteo called. Running through possibilities. Eliminating suspects.
"Not Winston. He's in federal custody. Powerless. Can't organize something like this."
"The FBI?" Luca suggested.
"No. They'd arrest, not kidnap. This was extraction, not law enforcement. Besides, tranquilizer guns? That's not federal procedure."
"Rival families?" Matteo asked.
