Antonio
My car skids to a stop in the gravel lot outside the decaying building. Cracked windows leer down at me, weeds strangle the walls, and the stench of rot hits me the second I step out of the car. My pulse thrums violently as I wrench the rusty metal door open and step into the darkness.
Inside, it’s pitch-black—no light, no sound, just oppressive silence. I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight. The weak light casts eerie shapes on the walls, distorting the room into something grotesque.
My breath catches as the beam lands on a piece of parchment lying at the center of the room.
Proceed into the depths, where the light flickers and the shadows cling.
If you dare descend, there, you will find what you seek.
“Where the hell do I go?” My voice echoes in the large, empty space.
I scan the room. Every inch of this god forsaken place feels alive. Like it’s watching me, waiting for my next move. Hoping I fail.
Then, something catches my eye.
At the far end of the room, tucked in the shadows, a stack of broken crates lies in disarray. The edges are jagged, splintered, as though they’d been thrown there in haste. My steps are slow, deliberate, each one pressing the tension further into my muscles. I instinctively reach for my gun, only to be reminded it’s not there.
I shove the crates aside, dust swirling up in a choking cloud. Coughing, I wave my hand to clear the air and spot what the crates were disguising—a small, hidden entrance leading underground.
There’s no turning back now.
A set of narrow, brittle stairs descends into the darkness. The wood groans under my weight, each step creaking ominously, a dying echo as if the tunnel itself protests my presence. The damp air is thick with mildew and decay, clinging to my skin. My heart constricts with every step as I picture Alessia trapped down here in this dark and desolate place. Terrified and alone.
As I descend deeper, I hold the flashlight steady, the beam bouncing off the damp, crumbling walls. The silence stretches, broken only by the echo of my footsteps and the distant drip of water. Up ahead, I spot a faint glow spilling into the tunnel.
Rounding the bend, I find a room with the door wide open. I hurry toward it and step inside the dimly lit space. At the center, two figures stand, waiting.
Draco. Emilio Salazar.
And Alessia.
She’s slumped in the corner, her wrists bound behind her back, head hanging to one side. Even in the dim light, I can see the bruises marring her skin. The rise and fall of her chest barely visible. Fear like I’ve never experienced threatens to consume me.
My vision narrows, a red-hot roar pounding in my skull, but before I can take a step toward her, Draco’s voice slices through the air like a knife.
“Well, well, look who finally showed up,” he drawls, a sneer twisting his lips. “It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? After all the death, all the suffering, you come here thinking you can save her—only to meet your own end in the very darkness you tried to pull her from.”
I don’t respond. My focus is locked on Alessia, on the fragile movement of her breath. Every fiber of my being screams to rush to her, but I force myself to stay still. If I make a wrong move, she’ll die before I can even reach her.
Draco steps closer, his footsteps slow and mocking. “I always knew it would come to this,” he continues, savoring each word. “You and me. But I didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of watching you lose everything first.” His eyes flick to Alessia, her limp body. “She put up a fight. I’ll give her that. Not that it did her any good.”
My fists clench at my sides. “You’re her father.”
Draco laughs a sharp, bitter sound that grates against my nerves. “Her father?” He spits the words like a curse. “She’s nothing to me. Never was. Did you really think because we share blood, I’d feel some kind of obligation? A sentimental pull?” He sneers. “She’s a pawn, . Just like everyone else.”
Rage coils tighter, twisting into something feral. “Any man who would do this is nothing more than a coward,” I growl, my voice deadly.
Draco’s eyes flash with something dark before his smirk returns. “Coward? No, . I’m practical,” he sneers. “She was never more than a cunt to be used as leverage, nothing else. Power is the only thing that matters, and she was useful for that. Love and family are lies weak men tell themselves. In the end, it’s all about survival, and I’ll do whatever it takes to win.”
I can barely contain the disgust roiling through me. “You think torturing your daughter makes you powerful?”
He shrugs, almost bored. “She’s just another weak link in a chain I’m about to break. But what I can’t understand is why so many men are willing to throw everything away for a chance to fuck her. Maybe I should get my dick wet and see what all the fuss is about before I pass her off.”
Salazar laughs, and my control slips. My vision narrows on Draco as he continues, his voice dripping with mockery.
“You could’ve had everything—power, wealth, control. But here you are, another idiot chasing after a piece of ass. You should’ve fucked her and let her go. Instead, you’re about to die.”
“You’ll never win, Draco. No matter what you think you’ve accomplished here, you’re already finished.”
“Oh, I’ve already won, . Both of your fates were sealed the second you cared.”
My heart pounds, my body coiled, ready to strike. But I can’t. Not yet. Instead, I grit my teeth, my eyes darting between Draco and Salazar. He hasn’t spoken yet. He’s watching, a predator in the shadows, waiting for the right moment. If I make a move too soon, if I slip even once, they’ll kill her before I can do a damn thing about it.
“You’re wrong,” I say, the words low and dangerous. “About everything. You’ll never touch her again.”
“Oh, I already have, . What’s it like to see the person you claim to love suffer because of your mistakes? You could’ve stopped all this if you’d given her back to me like I asked. But you didn’t. And now look what you made me do.” He moves his foot toward Alessia, nudging her limp body with casual cruelty. “She’s already broken. There’s nothing left to save.”
Draco’s words hang in the air like a death sentence, but I don’t take his bait. I refuse to let him see the fire raging inside me. I need to survive long enough to rip these bastards apart and get Alessia out of here alive.
“Any last words?” Draco taunts, his smile widening.
Salazar shifts slightly, eyes narrowing. Draco’s poise falters just for a moment. And then I hear it—the sharp crack of gunfire, echoing through the tunnels like a death knell.
Draco flinches, his bravado vanishing as he turns to the kingpin, frantic. “I delivered her, just like we agreed. She’s yours. But I’m done here.”
Without another word, Draco bolts, a coward to the very last second.
Salazar’s eyes lock with mine. There’s no more time. It’s him or me.
I lunge.
A savage growl rips from my throat as we collide. The force sends both of us crashing to the ground in a brutal tangle of fists and fury. He’s bigger and stronger, but rage fuels me. I slam my fists into his face, each punch connecting with sickening cracks of bone and flesh. Blood sprays from his mouth enraging him.
His fist smashes into my ribs, a blow so hard it drives the air from my lungs. I grunt, pain radiating through my chest, but I don’t stop. I can’t. He swings again, catching me across the jaw. Stars dance at the edge of my vision, but I force myself to stay conscious. His next punch splits my lip, the coppery taste of blood filling my mouth.
He’s a brute, but I’m faster. My rage doesn’t care about the pain. I spit blood and launch myself at him, my fists hammering into his gut. Every hit lands with a brutal thud, driving him back.
Salazar knows the stakes as well as I do. Only one of us is leaving here alive. He throws a wild punch, catching me on the side of the head. The world tilts, my balance slipping. He seizes the opportunity, slamming his elbow into my back and forcing me to the ground. My head spins. The taste of blood is thick on my tongue.
Before he can finish me, I roll to the side just in time to avoid his boot slamming down where my head had been. I kick his leg out from under him, sending him stumbling, giving me the opening I need. My fists fly again, crashing into his ribs. The sharp crack of bone echoes in the small room.
He swings wildly, landing a blow to my cheek. Pain flares through my skull, but it only fuels me on. I roar and slam my knuckles into his face. This time, his nose shatters under the force. Blood gushes down his face as he staggers.
Grabbing him by the throat, I slam his head against the crude stone wall. The wet, sickening crunch of his skull against the jagged rock is like music. Over and over, I drive his head into the stones, relishing the sound of breaking bone, the feel of his body growing weaker with every blow.
His groans turn to gurgles as blood fills his throat, but I don’t stop. His fists flail weakly, desperate slaps that have no power left behind them. His legs give out, and still, I keep going.
Finally, his body slumps, limp and broken, blood pooling around the unrecognizable mess. I kneel over what’s left of his body and raise my fist one last time, bringing it down to end his worthless life.
Without another thought, I’m at Alessia’s side, my hands trembling as I press my fingers to her neck searching for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.
"Alessia," I whisper, my voice cracking as I brush her blood-matted hair away from her bruised face. She doesn’t stir. My hands shake as I work frantically at the knots, freeing her hands. "You have to keep fighting. Don’t you dare leave me, tesoro ."
I pull out my cell to call for help, but there's no service. Panic claws at the edges of my mind, but I shove it down. There’s no time for fear. I have to get her out of here.
Scooping her fragile body into my arms, I cradle her against me as if she might shatter with a single wrong move. Her head lolls against my chest. For a moment, I close my eyes, focusing on the sound of her breath. She’s still alive. Barely.
As I step back into the labyrinth of tunnels, the beam from my flashlight sweeps over the stone walls, casting twisted shadows that seem to warp and close in with every step. I pause, blinking as my eyes try to adjust, but the walls seem to shift. Everything feels disorienting, distorted.
Gunshots. Distant, echoing through the maze of tunnels, but impossible to pinpoint. Left, right—somewhere between.
Clutching Alessia against me, I move quickly. My boots slam against the wet stone, each step reverberating through the narrow passageways. Every second is stolen, a race against time.
Each tunnel looks the same, every corner a potential dead end. My breathing grows ragged, not just from the effort of carrying her, but from the dread crawling up my spine. I’m making too many mistakes.
“Stay with me, Alessia,” I murmur. “I’m getting you out of here. Just hold on.”
She doesn’t stir, doesn’t respond. Panic fuels my steps, driving me faster. I have to keep moving.
The gunshots grow louder, bouncing off the walls, leading me like a cruel beacon. I turn another corner, praying this one doesn’t lead to a dead end.
Please, let this be the way out.
I need to get us above ground so I can call an ambulance. The questions, the mess—all of it can wait. I’ll deal with the aftermath, clean it up, pay the right people to make sure it disappears. The only thing that matters is getting Alessia to a hospital and keeping her alive.
I can’t lose her. Not now. Not ever.
Up ahead, I finally spot what I’ve been searching for—the familiar steps leading back up. The way out. My legs burn with every step as I climb, her limp body growing heavier in my arms as my own strength begins to fade. But I push through it. I have no choice.
When I reach the surface, gasping for air, I glance down at my phone—still no signal in this damn building. I clutch Alessia tighter and push through the door, finally bursting into the open air. The second I’m outside, the signal bar flickers to life. I quickly dial for help, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The phone rings once, twice, before a calm voice answers, “911, what’s your emergency?”
“My wife,” I gasp, barely able to force the words out. “She’s hurt—bad. I need an ambulance. Now.”
“Stay calm, sir,” the dispatcher replies. “Where are you located?”
I rattle off the address, my voice trembling as I glance down at Alessia’s pale face, her breath so shallow it’s nearly undetectable. “She’s not... she’s barely breathing. You need to hurry.”
“Help is on the way,” the dispatcher reassures, but it’s not fast enough. Time is slipping through my fingers like sand.
I disconnect the call, the sound of the dispatcher’s voice lingering in my mind like a hollow echo. My legs buckle beneath me, and I drop to my knees, cradling Alessia’s limp body in my arms. The cold ground presses against me as I rock her gently, willing her to keep breathing.
My phone buzzes again. It’s Dante.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“I’m outside. In the parking lot,” I choke out, my throat tight, every word a struggle. “I’m waiting for an ambulance. She’s barely breathing.” My voice cracks, raw with fear. “I can’t even see her chest move. She’s slipping away and I can’t do a god damn thing to stop it.”
“You will not fucking lose her,” Dante growls, his voice harsh but laced with an urgency that mirrors my own panic. “She’s strong, . You hear me? You hold on to her. Don’t let her go. The ambulance is coming, and they’ll do everything they can.” His voice softens, just a fraction. “You’re not losing her, Anton. Not like this.”
I press a trembling hand to her cold cheek. “I never should’ve let her out of my sight. This is all my fault.”
“You did everything you could. The only thing that matters right now is getting her through this. Focus on that.”
I close my eyes, sucking in a deep breath, trying to push back the suffocating panic. “Where are you?”
“I’ve got Draco,” he says, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. “I shot him, but the bastard’s still breathing. What do you want me to do?”
I glance down at Alessia, her skin pale as death. A surge of fury burns through me, white-hot. “Make him suffer, Dante,” I growl, my voice low and lethal. “Make sure he suffers and then burns in hell.”
“He will.”
The line goes dead.
I hold Alessia closer, my voice barely a whisper as I lean in. “Help is on the way. Stay with me. Please, Tesoro, stay with me.”