Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Sophia
T he night air is sharp and cold as I stand beside Alessio, waiting in the shadow of an abandoned lot just outside the city. I can hear the distant hum of traffic, the occasional bark of a stray dog, but otherwise, it's quiet. Too quiet.
Matteo's late.
I shift my weight, hands buried deep in my coat pockets, trying to steady the simmering anger that's been building since Alessio told me about his meeting. I should've been furious with Alessio for sneaking out earlier, but the anger has redirected itself, sharp and hot, straight at Matteo.
The man who betrayed us.
The crunch of tires on gravel pulls me out of my thoughts, and I snap my head up. A black SUV rolls into view, its headlights cutting across the lot before shutting off. The door opens, and Matteo steps out, hands raised slightly, like he knows he's walking into hostile territory.
He should.
"You came," Alessio mutters beside me.
Matteo steps into the faint light of the streetlamp, his face shadowed but still familiar—too familiar. The man I used to think of as loyal. As family.
"Of course I did," Matteo replies, his tone even. He looks between Alessio and me, his gaze lingering on me. "I didn't expect a warm welcome, but?—"
I don't let him finish.
I step forward and swing. My fist connects with his jaw, hard enough to send him stumbling back a step.
Alessio doesn't move to stop me. Matteo's eyes widen in surprise as his hand flies to his face, touching the spot where I hit him.
"You deserved that," I say coldly, my chest heaving as the anger rolls off me in waves.
"I know," Matteo mutters, straightening and meeting my glare without flinching. "I'd have done the same if I were you. You have one hell of a right hook, though."
"You almost got us killed!" I snap, voice rising despite the cold. "Do you even realize what you've done?"
"I do," Matteo says quieter now, calmer. "And I'm sorry. For everything."
I don't let the apology sink in. I take another step toward him, my fists clenched at my sides. "You betrayed us. You betrayed me . And for what? To play some dangerous game with Domenico?"
"I wasn't playing," Matteo says firmly, his gaze locking onto mine. "He has my sister, Sophia. I didn't have a choice."
The words hit me harder than I expect, stealing the next breath from my lungs. I see the pain behind his words, the guilt he's trying to carry, and for a second, I don't know what to say.
"Your sister," I echo quietly.
Matteo nods, his face hardening. "She's still out there. Domenico's been holding her to make sure I stayed in line. That's why I fed him what he wanted to hear." He swallows hard, his jaw tight. "But this intel, it's real. The route, the shipment. It's happening tonight. And we have one shot to stop it."
I glance at Alessio, but he doesn't say anything, his face unreadable. This is my moment, my decision.
I look back at Matteo, "We'll get her back. Your sister. I promise you that."
Matteo's shoulders sag just slightly, like the weight he's been carrying has shifted, if only for a second. "Thank you," he mutters.
"But this doesn't make us even," I add sharply, my anger not entirely gone. "Not yet."
He nods, accepting it. "I don't expect it to."
Alessio finally steps forward, his tone clipped as he breaks the tension. "We don't have time for this. What's the route?"
Matteo reaches into his jacket, pulling out a folded map. "They're running the convoy along Route 8, through the industrial district. There's a loading dock at the halfway point where they'll stop for a quick transfer before moving to the port. That's our window."
I step closer, my eyes scanning the map as he spreads it across the hood of the SUV. Alessio stands beside me, his jaw tight as he studies the layout.
"How many men are we looking at?" Alessio asks.
"About eight, maybe ten," Matteo replies. "Armed, but not expecting resistance. Domenico thinks his secrecy is enough to keep the route safe."
"He's wrong," I say quietly, the fire in me burning brighter now.
Alessio straightens, his gaze shifting between Matteo and me. "We'll need to hit them hard and fast. If we take too long, Domenico's reinforcements will be on us before we're out."
Matteo nods. "I can handle the explosives for the barricade. You two focus on the convoy."
Alessio turns to me, his eyes searching mine. "Are you good with this?"
I meet his eyes. "I'm ready."
Because this is more than just stopping a shipment. This is about taking something from Domenico—something he thinks he owns. It's about proving he doesn't get to win.
And it's about keeping my promise to Matteo.
"We'll hit them at the loading dock," Alessio holds my stare. "We move now."
The plan is set, and everything is in place. I should feel confident, but my heart still holds onto that little bit of doubt. It seems that no matter what we try, my uncle seems to be one step ahead every single time. I can only hope that this joker card that we are playing catches him off guard.
The streets are quiet. The only thing that can be heard is the gentle sloshing of the water by the pier. Alessio and Matteo are on the other side of the street, watching and waiting. Matteo has the explosives set, and once they go off, all hell will break lose.
This is risky, but we are not leaving this place without those children in the van.
I look at my watch. 1:32 a.m. Any minute, they will pass this place and?—
I hear the rumbling of vehicles, and then three vans come moving down the street.
Show time.
Matteo gives me a curt nod from the other side of the street, and Alessio, who stands a few feet from him behind another car, remains stoic. My heart pounds heavily in my chest, my stomach drops all the way to floor.
The three vans move closer to where we are. The world seems to still for a moment. The seconds tick by slower than they have been. The blood rushing past my ear is all I can hear.
Come on… come on…
Matteo raises his fingers in the air and counts down from three… two… one…
Boom.
The world spins as the first explosion rips through the air. I'm still behind the truck, crouching low, but the force of it shakes the ground beneath me. The fireball lights up the night sky, casting everything in an orange glow, but I can't focus on that now. My heart's pounding too fast, my blood thrumming in my ears.
I turn my head just in time to see one of the trucks lurch forward, its engine roaring to life. The convoy is trying to escape.
"Get them!" I shout, adrenaline kicking in despite the pain from the bullet that grazes my side. I don't even know where it comes from.
Alessio doesn't hesitate. He's already moving, his gun firing off shots with precise fury, taking out one of the guards trying to retreat. He's methodical, his every movement calculated, but I can see the tension in his shoulders—he's just as furious as I am.
The fireball from the explosion lights up the night, but it doesn't stop the convoy from moving. The driver in the first truck panics and accelerates, slamming on the gas as if the chaos behind them won't catch up.
"They're getting away!" I shout again, pushing myself to my feet, ignoring the way my body protests with each movement.
" Sophia, don't! " Alessio calls, his voice filled with warning, but I'm already running. I don't stop.
My side stings with every step, but I don't care. I can't.
I make it to the second truck in the convoy just as one of the guards opens fire. My shot hits him before he can react, and he drops like a stone. But there's no time to savor the hit. I'm already pulling myself up onto the truck, my boots scraping against the metal, forcing myself not to stumble.
I leap into the cab, grabbing the driver by the shoulder and slamming his face into the wheel. He's out in seconds, his body slumping forward. The truck jerks as I yank the wheel, veering it into a nearby alleyway, cutting off the convoy's escape route.
I glance in the rearview mirror just in time to see the other truck screech to a halt, the driver realizing the road's blocked.
But it's not enough. They need to be stopped. All of them.
The pain in my side flares as I move to the back of the truck, my gun raised. I can hear footsteps—more guards, getting ready to fight. I've taken their driver, but there's still the matter of the rest of them.
The rest of the convoy is already stopping, their men disembarking quickly to cover the trucks, but they're caught off guard. They weren't expecting this.
The first shot rings out, but I'm already moving, the van's door swinging open, and I dive out, gun in hand.
"Cover me!" I shout, but I don't wait for an answer. I'm already running toward the truck, my gun raised.
I hear Alessio shouting for me to get back, but I keep my eyes on the men at the far side, trying to form up. They're unprepared, caught in the chaos.
I fire again, taking down another guard as he tries to scramble to cover, but I don't stop to watch him fall. There's no time for that.
I reach the last truck, the one I've been aiming for—the one that's supposed to have the kids.
I can hear their muffled sounds. A mix of fear and confusion. They're still in there. They're still alive.
"Alessio!" I shout as I reach for the back door of the truck, my hands shaking as I pull it open. "They're still in here!"
I rush inside, my heart pounding in my chest. The kids are huddled together, eyes wide, some too young to even understand what's happening. But they're alive. They're here.
I step inside, my gun still in my hand, my breath coming faster now. There's no time to explain, no time to comfort them. They need to be out. They need to be safe.
I turn to one of the older girls, her face streaked with dirt and fear. "Get out, now," I order, my tone harsh but firm. "Get to the van. Go!"
She nods, scrambling to the door, and I usher her out quickly, pulling the others behind her.
Outside, the fight is still raging. Alessio is firing from cover, his movements quick, calculating, as he watches over me.
Another shot rings out, and I barely register the pain in my side until I feel my legs give out under me. The world spins as I stagger, trying to stay on my feet.
I look down. Blood is pooling at my feet.
" Sophia! " Alessio yells.
I don't answer. I can't. The pain is sharp, relentless, and I can barely keep my vision steady.
But I force myself to move, pushing through the dizziness. "Get the kids out of here," I manage barely above a whisper.
Alessio runs toward me, his face filled with rage and fear. "Don't you dare, Sophia. Don't you dare make me carry you out of here."
But I don't have the strength to argue.
"Get them out," I whisper again, and he nods, his face hard as he turns back toward the van.
I stumble after him, my legs shaking, but I'm not going to let this stop me. Not now. Not after everything.
The kids are already in the van, and Alessio jumps in behind them, urging them to stay low, to stay quiet. Matteo's in the driver's seat, his face grim, his hands tight on the wheel.
"We're not done yet," I say hoarse, but there's a fire in it. "Get us out of here. Now."
And with that, Matteo starts the engine, and we race off into the night, leaving the chaos behind us—but the danger still ahead.
The van lurches forward, its tires screeching as we tear down the darkened roads, the city lights flickering in the rearview mirror. The explosion still echoes in my ears, the adrenaline slowly beginning to fade, leaving behind the sharp sting in my side. I'm losing blood, but I refuse to let it slow me down. Not when we've come this far.
The kids are quiet in the back, huddled together, their faces pale, eyes wide with fear and confusion. They've been through hell, and we're their only way out.
I turn toward them, forcing a smile I don't feel. "You're safe now," I say softly, trying to reassure them. They don't speak, but I can see the tiny sparks of hope in their eyes. They're still alive.
But it's not over.
I glance at Alessio, who's sitting beside me, his expression hard, his eyes scanning the road ahead. His hand rests on the gun at his side, ready for whatever comes next. He doesn't say anything, but I can feel the weight of his worry pressing against me. He's still furious with Matteo, and I can't blame him. I should be, too.
"Where are we going?" I inquire, though I try to sound steady.
"The safe house," Matteo answers from the front, his eyes flicking toward me in the mirror. "We'll get you patched up there."
I shake my head slightly, ignoring the sharp pain in my side as I sit up straighter. "We need to get them somewhere safe first. There's no time to waste."
"They're safe," Matteo insists. "This is the safest place we have right now. We need to regroup, and you need medical attention."
I don't argue, but I can feel the cold sweat starting to stick to my skin. My breath is shallow, the pain making everything seem far away, but I hold it together. I have to.
As we pull into a small, hidden alleyway behind the safe house, the engine cuts, and for a moment, everything is silent. The only sound is the pounding of my heart in my ears.
Alessio's already out of the van before it even stops. He's scanning the area, making sure we're not followed.
"Get the kids inside," I say to Matteo, though I can barely find my strength. I look at him, my vision blurring at the edges. "Now."
Matteo nods, his face tense as he opens the door and ushers the kids out quickly. They follow him, their small figures vanishing into the shadows of the building.
I start to get out, but the world tilts, and for a second, my legs betray me. My vision fades to gray.
Alessio's there, his hand on my arm, steadying me as I stumble. "Sophia, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm fine," I rasp, trying to shake off the dizziness, but my body doesn't obey. The wound is worse than I let on.
"No, you're not," he growls, his grip tightening as he pulls me against him. "You're going inside, and you're sitting down, whether you like it or not."
I want to argue. I want to keep moving. But I can't. My vision blurs again, and I'm starting to lose the battle with my body.
Alessio doesn't give me a chance to fight him. He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me toward the door.
"I can walk," I protest weakly, but he's not listening.
"You're not walking anywhere," he mutters as he pushes open the door to the safe house.
The inside is dark, cold, and quiet—too quiet for my liking. Alessio doesn't stop until we're in one of the small bedrooms, and he gently sets me down on the bed.
"You're not fine, Sophia," he says softer now, but the anger is still there, just beneath the surface. "You need to let me take care of you."
I look up at him, the intensity in his eyes too much to bear. "I don't need you to take care of me."
"Yes, you do." His words are firm, but there's something else in them—something deeper. The fury of the mission, the desperation to keep me safe—it's all tangled up in the way he holds me, his hands trembling ever so slightly.
"You're not going anywhere," he adds, sitting beside me on the bed, his hand brushing through my hair gently. "I'm not losing you."
I don't have the strength to argue. The pain is too much, and the weight of everything is starting to crush me. I close my eyes, letting the darkness take me, knowing he's right. We've made it this far—but it's not over yet.
Alessio reaches for the first aid kit on the nightstand, his movements methodical, and I watch him, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and guilt. He's so focused on me, so consumed with protecting me, and I can't help but wish I could be the one to take care of him for once.
"We'll get them back," I whisper, but within I am resolute. "The kids. I'll make sure of it."
He doesn't answer right away. He just nods, his fingers brushing against the bandage as he begins to clean my wound, his eyes flicking back to mine.
"I know you will," he says quietly, voice thick with emotion.
I close my eyes again, the exhaustion pulling at me. There's so much left to do, so many dangers ahead. But for now, we're alive. We're together. And that has to be enough.