There’s no attempt to soften it. The facts are delivered in that flat, efficient tone I’ve relied on for years, have appreciated up until this moment.
Now it’s simply twisting the knife already gutting me.
“The Bellantis have them. Scooped them up right outside Cefalù. Took Elena and Luca back to the Palermo estate.”
Toselli’s territory. Of course it is.
Just as they did last time, the Bellantis are acting as the muscle instead of the masterminds. Couriers to the whims of whatever syndicate pays them the most. It’s exactly where they’ve always belonged because they’ve always been too eager to bleed for someone else’s ambition.
I don’t speak for a long moment.
I just stand there staring at nothing, letting the information sink into me slowly. I suppose this shouldn’t come as a surprise. Notafter the last few weeks. The warning signs were there, stacking neatly on top of one another like loaded rounds waiting to be chambered.
And yet…
To have Elena and Luca slip through my fingers—myoversight,myfailure—only to be taken moments before I could reach them by the one enemy I know is capable of doing the most damage… it’s crushing in a way I can’t articulate.
“We pulled the external CCTV feeds from a bar close to where they were abducted,” Romano continues. “And… well, you should see the rest for yourself.”
There’s a pause before anyone moves, then a laptop is placed in front of me.
Grainy footage fills it almost immediately of the rain-slicked roads gleaming under harsh street lights, the image distorted slightly from the odd angle where the CCTV camera had been bolted into the side of a building overlooking the coastal stretch. Water streaks across the lens, blurring the edges of everything, but not enough to obscure what matters.
I recognize the coastal stretch immediately. I’ve driven that road more times than I can count, usually early in the morning, to meet with new contracts and old clients.
Elena appears on-screen within moments.
The image stutters slightly as the camera struggles to keep up with her through the rain, but I can still see her clearly enough. Her hair is plastered to her face, her shoulders hunched while Luca is clutched tightly against her chest.
An SUV crawls into frame behind her.
I lean closer without realizing it, my muscles locking into place as the vehicle accelerates. Its tires cut through standing water, startling her. It swerves around her suddenly before she can react, skidding to a stop to block the narrow road completely. Headlights flare, bleaching the image for a split second before the camera compensates and re-works the graphics.
All four doors fly open with men spilling out. They move on her immediately.
I watch in horror as they grab her arms, dragging her forward. Luca is ripped from her grasp, his small body disappearing into the chaos of moving bodies. Elena’s face crumples instantly, her raw, unfiltered anguish splitting her expression wide.
Her mouth opens in a soundless wail as she reaches for him, fingers clawing at empty air. She fights them—God, she fights them—but it doesn’t matter. They restrain her arms behind her back, twisting them at an angle that makes my teeth grind.
Then they shove her into the back of the SUV, slamming the doors shut behind her hard enough to rock the entire vehicle.
I don’t blink.
I can’t.
Another set of headlights appears moments later, pulling into frame from the opposite direction. This time, only the driver’s side door opens. A single man steps out, unhurried as he moves. At first, his image is little more than a shadow. But as steps closer, close enough for the camera to pick him up through the rain, it becomes crystal clear.
When he turns his head, angling it slightly as he looks toward Luca still being held in the arms of one of the men, the camera catches his face in profile.
Enzo.
My hands curl slowly into fists.
Every misstep.
Every second I wasted looking for the wrong perpetrator.
Every choice leading to this exact moment…
