Chapter 20
DANTE
Romano’s report is… brutal.
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. Not after 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—my oversight, my failure—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…
Has now cost me everything.
On the screen, Enzo nods once to the men around him, then he steps forward and carefully takes Luca into his arms. Luca’s small body heaves with silent sobs.
He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but instinct has him clinging to the man holding him anyway.
His little fingers curl tightly around Enzo’s jacket, desperate for something solid to anchor himself to.
My chest tightens painfully.
Luca’s face is tilted up toward Enzo, mouth moving rapidly as he babbles. Enzo looks down at him, then he shakes his head. He pats Luca’s back once, almost gently, and turns away. He walks back toward his car without another word, carrying Luca with him.
Romano’s finger moves into view, tapping the keypad. The footage freezes, Enzo’s face caught mid-motion.
The image sears itself into my mind.
“We used this footage to track both vehicles back to Toselli’s estate,” Romano says quietly.
Across the room, Leo lets out a quiet sigh as he leans against the doorframe of my study, his arms crossed over his chest. He hasn’t spoken since we all gathered but his posture is rigid. His eyes never leave me, something he only does when he knows I’m seconds away from losing it.
Bianchi paces relentlessly in front of the fireplace, his phone pressed to his ear. His voice is low as he barks orders every few seconds to whatever team he has out in the field. He doesn’t stop moving. He knows better than to stand still when something like this is unfolding.
I push back from my desk and slowly settle back into my chair, letting a slow breath leave me.
There’s no negotiating with men like Toselli or Enzo. No leveraging back against them or waiting for terms to be set that settles both parties fairly. The longer Elena and Luca remain behind those walls, the more time Enzo has to dictate the parameters of this nightmare.
Time is the one resource I can’t, and won’t, give him.
“Got it. Call me back when you’re there,” Bianchi says before ending his call.
As I sit there, staring at the paused image on the laptop screen, a plan begins to assemble itself in my mind.
Storm the estate.
Hit hard.
Wipe out as many Bellanti and Toselli soldiers as necessary.
Get Elena and Luca out alive.
The Palermo estate is fortified, yes, but it isn’t impenetrable. Nothing ever is. Walls fail, men panic, chaos ensues. I’ve learned that the hard way more than once over the past few weeks. Every stronghold has its flaws if you know where to look.
Toselli’s arrogance has always been his greatest weakness.
He believes loyalty bought with money will hold when bullets start flying. He believes fear is enough to keep men in line when chaos erupts. The greatest lie he’s ever told himself is that the weight of his name will stop another syndicate from burning his world to the ground if he gives the order.
He’s wrong. And also a fool.
The Bellantis are only loyal to whoever pays them the most in that moment. Once his estate turns into a war zone, they’ll scatter like rats looking for a new ship. That part doesn’t concern me.
The only true problem is Enzo.
In the chaos when lines of defense collapse and Toselli’s men are scrambling to hold ground, there’s a very real chance Enzo will try to disappear again.
Letting him escape goes against every instinct I have.
Against everything Matteo’s death has carved into me and the promise I made myself when I realized who was responsible for it.
But…
Vengeance is also a luxury.
One Elena and Luca cannot afford right now.
If I have to choose between killing Enzo to avenge my brother and getting my family back… the choice has already been made.
I exhale slowly, steadying myself.
Matteo would never want me to trade Luca or Elena’s safety to honor him.
He’d always despised the way our world demanded sacrifice in exchange for power, the way grief was meant to be sharpened into a weapon and wielded until nothing human remained.
He had carried the weight of his soon-to-be crown because he had to, not because he wanted it.
He’d loved us more than any title.
I can hear his voice in my head now, clear as if he’s standing beside me, telling me not to be an idiot and telling me that revenge is hollow if it leaves nothing worth living for afterward.
Matteo would have laid down his life again without hesitation if it meant I could keep mine intact. If it meant I could have what he always wanted for me—something beyond this endless cycle of violence. A future that didn’t revolve around betrayal and vendettas.
As much as Matteo deserves justice, my son and Elena need me more.
That is the only thing that matters now.
“When we strike them,” I say, leaning forward to slowly close the laptop, “we will need to do it quickly. Before any of them have time to react.”
Speed is everything. Hesitation is death. The longer Toselli’s men have to regroup, the more likely Elena and Luca will become necessary casualties to offload.
Romano is the first to answer, as I knew he would be. “An ambush at night will be the most efficient way if that’s the route you want to go. Gives us more cover to get closer.”
Bianchi doesn’t miss a beat.
“I’ve got a team already heading that way,” he adds. “They’re going to scope out the grounds and report back what they find. I’ll have them map out a rough plan on how to get in.”
“Good.” I push away from the desk and stand.
For the first time since all of this started, I feel something shift. The panic recedes, giving way as the rage sharpens into focus instead of consuming me whole. This is where I’m strongest, in the moment where strategy overtakes emotion and turns it into something useful.
I’m done chasing. The next move is mine and when it happens, it will happen on my timing, in my way.
I look around the room at the men I trust with my life, who I trust Luca and Elena’s lives with. “I want this executed by tonight.”
Leo gives me a firm nod. “Consider it done.”