Page 67 of Read This Before the Villain falls in Love with You

I step directly in front of the audio receiver. "Speaker."

Adrian punches the button. The line crackles, then settles into that particular kind of silence a man makes when he wants you to know he's enjoying the wait.

"Luca." Vincenzo Bellini's voice is smooth and unhurried, the voice of a man reading a menu, not a man holding my sister somewhere I can't see. "I hope I haven't interrupted anything important."

"Where the fuck is she?" I bypass any polite pleasantries. I don't ask questions I expect him to lie about, but I need him to hear the ice in my voice.

Vincenzo lets out a raspy, dry chuckle over the receiver. "Safe. For now. Whether that continues depends entirely on how reasonable you decide to be over the next twenty four hours."

I keep my tone deadly level. "If there is a single scratch on her skin, you won't live long enough to negotiate anything."

"Empty threats sound so undignified on you, Luca," Vincenzo responds with a dry hum.

Enzo lets out a low curse through clenched teeth, punching the drywall beside the door. Matteo's fingers grip the wooden trim of the desk until the joints show stark white. Adrian stands frozen in the center of the floor, staring straight ahead with locked eyes.

"You want the shipping routes," I cut in, refusing to play his sick game. "Stop talking out of your ass and name your price."

"I want a great many things," Vincenzo purrs, the faint rustle of paper coming through the speaker. "Your sister is a lovely opening offer. I look forward to discussing terms once you've had time to consider what a bad trade would cost you."

The line goes dead before I can answer, and the silence that follows is worse than the call itself.

"He'll call back," Enzo grates out, his boots grinding on the hardwood. "He always calls back. He likes watching people squirm before he gives up terms."

"Then he's going to be very disappointed by how little crawling we do," Matteo mutters, knuckles cracking with sudden nervous energy.

I slam my fist onto the desk. "We aren't bowing down to that piece of shit."

Adrian grabs my bicep with a grip so desperate and tight his fingers dig straight through the cloth. His eyes are wide, glassy with unshed panic. "Luca, look at me. Give me the sweep order. Don't leave me sitting behind a desk while they touch her. Put me in the lead car right now."

"You're chief of security for this house. I need you here."

Adrian yells as he steps directly into my chest, pupils dilated with sheer terror. "I have to be out there! She will be terrified. She won't speak to anyone else. If Vincenzo puts hands on her, if they hurt her...Luca, please. I cannot sit in this room."

Matteo looks between the two of us. "You'll blow your cover if you rush in blind."

Adrian steps straight into my personal space. "I don't care about cover."

I hold his gaze. I see the raw panic in his eyes, but tonight is not the time to question it.

I gesture toward the armory locker on the far wall. "You'll run point on the ground team. Not alone. Enzo goes with you."

Matteo shakes his head. "Enzo's going to want to burn the whole valley down. You know how he gets."

"Then let him burn what needs burning," I reply without hesitation.

Adrian nods. Something in his shoulders loosens, just barely, like the concession bought him enough air to breathe again. "Understood."

I point across the glowing grid. "Matteo, get me every asset we have on the coast road within the hour. Cameras, informants, anyone who owes us a debt."

The monitors hum against the dark. Every camera feed on the coast road shows nothing but empty blacktop. Sofia is out there in a car with Bellini's men, and Vincenzo is waiting for his next call to tear us down.

I tap the glass screen where the map centers. "Get me everything on his known holdings within thirty miles of that gas station. Warehouses, safe houses, anything with a roof and a lock."

Matteo clicks furiously through windows. "I'm already pulling property tax records from the municipal database. Turns out criminals are shockingly bad at paying commercial zoning fees under fake shell companies."

Adrian moves toward the door without another word. Matteo dials frantically on the mobile phone, barking out orders to our forward units. Enzo grabs an automatic rifle from the wall mount, his jaw locked in cold fury.

The landline sits silent on the desk, waiting for Vincenzo to decide it's time to enjoy himself again.