Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
PRESENT
The truck bounces over the uneven dirt road, each jolt rattling through me, but I barely notice. My focus is on the back of Gabriel’s truck. He knows where Damon is heading. Where my son is going.
Beside me, Santi grips the wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him from unleashing his wrath. His focus is razor-sharp, but when he feels my eyes on him, he wraps his hand over mine offering silent reassurance.
“We have to get to him, Santi…” I’m not sure if I’m speaking to him or myself.
Santi doesn’t answer but he pushes the pedal down harder on a straight stretch of road.
The road narrows, trees thickening on either side. My pulse quickens when an estate comes into view, hidden behind tall iron gates and a sprawling wall. It’s a fortress—opulent and menacing, with a long driveway leading to a massive stone house at its center. Damon races his truck through the main gates that close slowly behind his vehicle.
Gabriel screeches to a halt, barely missing a collision with the gates, now too narrow for his truck.
When Santi brakes, we stop so hard that the seatbelt cuts into my chest. But nothing matters to me. Nothing but Theo. Instinctively, without a moment to think about what the hell I’m going to do when I get on the other side, I sprint like hell, Santi on my heels. We barely slip through the remaining sliver in the gates.
Gabriel climbs out of his truck, scanning the area with practiced precision. Anton is out, too, already moving, his weapon ready as they make their way to the gate and Gabriel barely contains his anger at my decision to get inside.
Santi and I push ourselves into a hedge to one side, hiding ourselves out of sight. Damon’s truck still moves up the long, sweeping drive.
Then I catch sight of Anton and Gabriel through the wrought-iron bars.
Gabriel barks. “Reinforcements are still fifteen minutes away, and it isn’t exactly SWAT joining us first. That was a stupid move…”
I grit my teeth. “What was I supposed to do, sit in the truck and watch this horror like it’s a drive-in movie?” I don’t know what overcomes me but I don’t want to talk. Just act. “I’m going in. ”
Santi grabs my arm. “Kat… I’m sure people in there are armed. This is potentially the Mafia we’re dealing with.”
Through the iron bars, Gabriel’s glare could cut through steel. “Listen to yourself, Kat!” he snaps. “You are not going in there.”
“All they want is the damn flash drives…” I protest.
“They want blood!” Gabriel bites.
Adrenaline surges in my veins. “We didn’t have a choice.”
My eyes dart to Damon’s truck, now stopped and parked near the house. He pulls Theo out of the cab; the sight is a dagger to the heart. My son’s thin arms still punch out as Damon leads him toward the front door.
I can’t think. I can’t breathe.
“Figure it out,” I say, already moving.
I’ve watched thrillers before where children get kidnapped. And in those, it seems the parents, in pursuit, develop both an unhinged vendetta and a deluded sense of their capabilities. It turns out, those movies aren’t fiction.
As Damon drags Theo into the house, my legs want to give out, but my heart roars with one clear truth– I cannot, will not, let them take my son. Fear is a wild animal clawing at my insides, but it’s drowned by raging fury.
I need in that house. I can’t let them have Theo.
Santi grabs my arm. “Kat, wait. We need to be smart.”
“There’s no time for smart,” I snap, shaking him off. “He has my son!”
Santi steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Listen to me. If we rush in without a plan, they’ll take both of us, and Theo will still be in their hands. Just give it a minute.”
He’s right. My hands tremble, my pulse pounding in my ears, but I force myself to stop.
“We wait for Gabriel to cover us,” Santi says, nodding at his brother, and in an instant, Anton and Gabriel disappear, two ghosts evaporating into shadows, leaving us with nothing but the sound of our ragged breaths.
We’re alone.
We wait for no more than a minute when the cold press of a gun barrel touches my temple.
“Don’t move.”
The voice slithers through the air, low and venomous. A voice that should be buried six feet under. A voice that should never have spoken again.
My stomach turns to stone. My breath stills in my lungs.
No.
This isn’t real. It can’t be real.
I turn.
And the past doesn’t just catch up to me.
It stands in front of me, back from the dead.
Nic.
My knees nearly buckle as the weight of the revelation crashes over me. He’s alive.
Nic and his crony kick us hard in our backs, and Santi and I push out in front of them.
“Walk,” Nic commands.
The guard behind Santi shoves him forward, and we’re marched up the driveway. Shock, rage, and terror churn inside me. I can barely process what’s happening, but I know one thing– Nic isn’t acting alone.
The foyer is cavernous, the stone walls lined with severe- looking portraits. Despite the grand space, the air inside is damp and stifling like the claustrophobic insides of a cave.
Nic steps in front of us, his smirk infuriatingly familiar but darker now, hardened by whatever twisted life he’s been leading.
“Welcome,” he says, spreading his arms as if he’s hosting a dinner party. “I was wondering when you’d catch up.”
I immediately scan the innards of the mansion for signs of Theo. Two guns point straight at me and Santi, but suddenly, I’m fearless. All I care about is taking down this monster before me and getting to my son.
I take a step forward, my fists clenched at my sides. “You faked your death?”
His smirk widens. “Don’t sound so surprised. You always said I was good at escaping responsibility.”
“Why?” The demand erupts from deep within. “I knew you were pure evil.”
Nic’s nostrils flare, as if he doesn’t want to admit what he’s about to say. “The organization got in too deep. We needed out.”
“The Mafia? Why did you even do it, Nic?”
He steps forward, putting the gun to my forehead, hard and unrelenting. Santi flinches, but Nic’s guard stops him.
“You want to know why, Princess Castellanos?” Nic spits, his tone mocking. “Because not everyone is born with a silver spoon. Some of us need money.”
“ Nobody needs that much money, Nic! You were stealing millions! You’re just a greedy fucking bastard! Where is my son?”
“ Our son.”
The ragged sound coming out of me is full of so much poison I barely recognize myself. “You don’t deserve to be in the same air he breathes… now where is he? ”
Nic grabs me by the shirt, nearly pulling me off my feet. His smirk falters, replaced by something dangerous. “Where are my flash drives?”
Santi lunges before he can think, before he can stop himself. “Get your fucking hands off her!” His voice is thunder, a split-second from breaking into a storm. His whole body coils like he’s about to tear Nic apart with his bare hands.
Nic barely flinches, but his grip on me tightens like he’s testing him. Like he enjoys knowing Santi can’t act. “Or what?"
Tears sting my eyes, not from fear but from the raw, unbearable rage building inside me. My thoughts blur, Theo’s face flashing in my mind. His bright eyes, his shy laugh, the way he clings to me when he’s scared. If Nic takes him—or if I’m gone—what kind of life will he have? Would Nic hurt him? Use him? Strip away the light and innocence I’ve fought so hard to protect?
No. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.
“I’ll get you the drives.” I force the words out, the weight of them dragging against my throat like chains. “But if you so much as lay a finger on Theo, you’ll burn…”
“Burn?” Nic’s indifference is chilling. “Isn’t that cute?”
The world tilts, a tidal wave of helpless fury crashing over me. I shake with the force of my emotions.
Nic stalls. Considering. It scares me what he might be thinking about—hurting Theo, taking him from me… but I don’t relent.
“Nic…” His name leaves me like a loaded threat. “If you harm Theo, I’ll tear through every dark corner you crawl into. I will find you.”
“Assuming I let you live,” he snarls. “The problem with you, Katinka, is that you just had to snoop around. And now, you’ve put me in a tight spot.” Nic’s jaw tightens, his grip on my shirt slackening slightly.
Santi’s gaze hasn’t left me, it’s a silent support, grounding me even as my legs threaten to give out. But my son’s life is on the line. I don’t have the luxury of breaking.
Nic shrugs as if it’s all a minor detail. “You forced us into a corner, Kat. You’re a liability.” His gaze is of the Devil, and I know he isn’t above killing me. “But we can’t exactly let Theo go now. Can we?”
“Yes you can,” Santi cuts in. “And if you don’t, you won’t be escaping either.”
“Enough!” A woman’s voice slices through the air as smooth as a scalpel. Footsteps echo from the shadows, and the room seems to shrink. Her silver hair is pulled back into a severe knot, her posture straight and imposing.
“My mother, Marta,” Nic says, his tone almost reverent. “Mother, meet my wife.”
“You… the woman from the photographs,” I mutter.
She isn’t just some Mafia matriarch. She is the weight in Nic’s spine. The ice in his blood. The reason he exists at all.
And she is looking at me like I am something minor and inconvenient.
Her lips curl into a thin smile. “Observant. I can see why Nic found you… tolerable.”
Santi hardly moves but still prowls, stalks, like he’s waiting to go in for the kill. “You’ve done enough. Take your money, take your miserable lives, and crawl back into the filth you came from.” His promise is ironclad, dark and unyielding. “Because if you don’t? I swear to God, Marta… I’ll make sure you and your son die slow.”
For the first time, Marta hesitates.
It’s brief—a flicker of something behind her gaze, a muscle in her jaw tightening, her breath just the slightest bit shallower.
Then, as if the moment never happened, she smooths her hands over her crisp silk sleeve. Lifts her chin, but she doesn’t dare make eye contact with Santi.
“And why would we do that?” she says, cool as glass. “Theo’s our legacy. The Castellanos name might mean something here, but the Rossini lineage? Theo will be the king of a domain Paul Castellanos couldn’t even dream up.”
“Rossini?” My God… I never knew this man…
“You didn’t think Nicholas Petras was his real name, did you?” she mocks. “Your father is stupid and greedy, but we weren’t silly enough to have Nic’s connection with the Mafia right there on his résumé.”
“You lied to get in with her father…” Santi pieces it together. “To clean money, Embezzle cash…”
“And then just to secure my operation,” Nic sneers, “I married his only child so if Paul ever found out? He’d be hammering nails into his daughter’s coffin, not just mine.”
My heart pounds against my rib cage. How could this have happened? My father was so money-hungry, so insatiable, he hired a mobster without even realizing? Nic was able to get layers deep, my dad blind to it all. He used my dad. He used me. And now, he’s using Theo.
Marta tilts her head, patronizing. “Eventually, Theo will see how following in his father’s footsteps isn’t all that bad. Shame you won’t be able to visit us in sunny Sicily.”
A cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. “You’re not taking Theo. Over my dead body.”
Marta is pure evil. “Well isn’t that a good idea?”
Maybe they will kill me. So be it. But I’ll die trying. All we need is fifteen minutes. Anton and Gabriel said help was coming. They’re out there somewhere. They must know we’re here by now.
I have to keep this bastard talking to save my son.
Nic chuckles, the sound grating and infuriating. “And how do you plan to stop us, Kat? You’re outnumbered, outplayed, and frankly, out of your depth.”
Santi’s expression is carved from stone. He tilts his head, eyes locking on Nic like he’s measuring something—like he’s already decided how this ends.
“You ever wonder what it feels like, Nic? To think you’re untouchable—until you realize you were never even in the game?”
Nic’s smirk falters, just slightly.
It’s Santi’s turn to laugh and it’s a sound that could shake even the strongest man to his core. “Nic, you talk like someone who knows what’s coming. But let me tell you something—you don’t. You never did. And that? That’s why you lost the second you took what’s mine.”
I have to keep this conversation going. “Theo doesn’t have an evil bone in his body. It will never work taking him away, trying to make him into something he’s not,” I snap. “He’s stronger than you think he is. He’ll never be a pawn in whatever sick game you’re playing.”
Marta replies, her tone calm but cutting, “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve seen it once; I’ll see it again. And Theo? He’s the perfect blend of ruthless Castellanos and killer Rossini blood. A legacy worth nurturing. Worth protecting.”
“You’re insane,” I spit.
Nic’s smirk returns, lethal this time. “And yet not nearly as deluded as you are thinking you can do something about this.”
Before I can reply, a faint noise echoes from deeper in the house—a door creaking open, followed by soft footsteps. My heart leaps into my throat.
“Theo!” I call out instinctively, my voice breaking.
“Mom!”
Theo’s face appears around the corner, his wide eyes filled with fear. He freezes when he sees me, his small frame trembling.
“Theo, baby,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face.
Marta’s hand raises, signaling to Nic. “Restrain him,” she orders.
“No!” I shout, lurching forward, but Nic has his weapon aimed squarely at my chest.
Santi steps forward, his body is taut with rage, he’s a coiled spring ready to snap. But the situation is precarious—one guard with a gun aimed at Santi, Damon’s presence an unseen threat, and Nic’s hand now gripping my son’s shoulder, his fingers curling possessively.
“Mom,” he says, his chin trembling as he looks up at Nic, then back to me. “I-I’m not scared.” Despite Nic’s hold, defiance flickers in his tear-filled eyes.
My heart lurches with terror. “Theo, stay where you are, honey, we’ll get you out of here.”
Nic snarls. “See that? Bravery. He’s a Rossini through and through,” he taunts, his eyes narrowing on me. “But don’t worry, Kat. I’ll take good care of him. He’ll learn what it means to truly matter in this world.”
“No!” Theo shouts. “I don’t want anything from you!” He jerks against Nic’s hold, his small frame taut with determination.
Santi shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, solid as steel. He doesn’t say a word, he just stands with me, like a force at my back—one I don’t have to see to trust. Even with a gun on him, too, I somehow know, he’d risk it all .
Nic responds to Santi’s movement with his own, turning his gun from me to Theo.
My baby’s bright blue eyes blast open with fear.
Nic speaks with an eerie calm. “Lesson one, Theo. Speak when you’re spoken to.”
Every nerve is screaming at me to act, but I force myself to stay still. Not yet. Not until there’s a chance.
My voice is husky with the quiet fury of a mother with nothing left to lose. “Take that gun off my son.”
He responds by pressing it more firmly.
Santi breaks. “You touch that trigger, and I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll rip you apart, do you hear me?”
The guard cocks his gun at Santi’s ribs.
“Go ahead,” Santi snarls, baring his teeth. “Fucking shoot me. See what happens next.”
Nic only smirks, like he enjoys the sound of Santi coming undone. Like he enjoys knowing we’re powerless.
“Drop the fucking gun, Nic!” I shout before this standoff becomes a blood bath.
“You mean this gun?”
Nic lifts the pistol and wiggles it to taunt me.
A game. A fucking game.
All he thinks I am. All he thinks I’ll ever be.
Something inside me fractures. Not a break. A detonation.
Nic is laughing. Theo is trembling. Santi is behind me, steady as a heartbeat.
With the gun now off Theo, I take my chance and lunge, oblivious to how, this time, Nic might kill me.