10. Elio De Luca
Chapter 10
Elio De Luca
The silence in the house hits like a slap—too loud, too empty. I step into the living room, the ache in my chest growing with every second she’s not here.
Then I see it. A cardigan.
Nica’s. Crumpled on the floor like she’d just slipped it off and meant to come back for it.
But she didn’t. My stomach knots.
I crouch down and pick it up, the fabric soft, warm with memory. It smells like her—faint vanilla and whatever perfume she always wore that made my fucking heart beat funny.
I press it to my face for a second, trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping away.
Where are you?
I blink hard, force my fingers to work as I pull out my phone. Gio’s name glows at the top of my contacts. I hit call.
It rings twice.
“Elio?” he answers, groggy.
“She’s gone.” The words are knives. Sharp. Unforgiving.
A pause, then a string of curses.
“Shit. What do you need?”
“Lock the hospital down,” I say, pacing now, the cardigan still in my grip. “If they’ve got Nica, they might come after the rest of us. Celeste. Maria. Even Vinny.”
The weight of it settles deep in my gut, cold and heavy. I can’t protect everyone at once. I’m already losing.
“I’ll make it happen.”
“Yeah—” My voice catches.
Gio hears it. “Elio.”
I clear my throat. “Mmhmm.”
“We’ll find her.”
I nod, even though he can’t see it. “Start locking things down,” I mutter. “I’ll be in touch.”
I hang up before he can respond, already dialing another number.
Steven. The one man I trust to keep everything from imploding when shit hits the fan.
The phone rings once. Twice.
He picks up, calm as always. “Talk to me.”
“Nica’s gone,” I bite out, jaw clenched tight. “I need you at the mansion. Now.”
“Understood. I’ll get the team in motion.”
I end the call and stare at the screen, the gnawing in my gut growing sharper, deeper. Her name echoes in my skull like a fucking siren.
Nica. I can’t lose her. Not now. Not after everything.
I dial Jackson next, pacing like a caged animal. Each step reverberates with the raw edge of adrenaline slicing through my veins.
He answers, his voice thick with booze. “Elio? W-what the hell’s going on?”
“Nica’s missing.” I don’t soften it. Don’t cushion it. “I need you at my place. It’s urgent.”
Silence. Then the rustling of movement, sheets maybe, clothes. Whatever he was doing, he’s sobering up fast.
“What the fuck do you mean missing?” His tone sharpens, cutting through the fog on his end. “I’m on my way.”
“Wait,” I snap. “I’ll send a car. Stay put.”
Fucking alcohol... But I get it. We all have our demons. Some just crawl louder than others.
I hang up and tap out a message to the driver. Jackson’s address. Pick up. No delays.
Once it’s done, I toss the phone onto the table and rake my hands through my hair, gripping the roots until my scalp stings.
Where are you, Nica?
Give me something. Anything.
Any-fucking-thing.
The house feels hollow. Every room echoes like a tomb.
I turn down the hallway, hunting—desperate for a clue. My eyes scan every surface like a goddamn crime scene, and then—
Something catches the light.
A glint. Tiny. Faint.
I kneel, fingers brushing under the edge of the rug by the door. Her necklace.
Twisted. Broken.
My heart slams against my ribs.
It’s hers. I know it. I fucking know it.
But it tells me nothing. No direction. No enemy. Just that someone took her. And they’re not fucking around.
I grip the necklace in my fist, metal biting into my palm.
They left this behind like a message.
I’ve got one to send back. They will regret ever touching her.
* * *
I sit at the large dining table. Jackson, Gio, Steven, and I are all here, all locked in on the same problem. Marco and Angelo are patrolling the perimeter, checking every corner of the property like they’re expecting an army to roll up at any moment. Vinny’s in the corner, his face buried in his hands. I’ve never seen him like this. I have no idea how to react. But it doesn’t help us find Nika.
“We’re running out of time,” Jackson mutters, his fingers drumming impatiently on the table, his eyes bloodshot but focused. He’s pissed off, and that’s not a good sign. “Whoever took her, they know what they’re doing. The cameras are smashed, the feed stolen.”
“They’ve got to have a plan,” Gio adds, leaning back in his chair. The chair creaks like it’s about to give out under the tension. He swipes his hand through his hair, looking as frustrated as I feel. “But we need to think about where they’re keeping her. We’ve checked every damn place we know, and nothing’s come up.”
I shoot a look at Steven, who’s been sitting in silence, his brow furrowed. “You’ve been quiet,” I say, my voice tight. “What are you thinking?”
Steven looks up, his eyes sharp. “You’re right about one thing—we’re missing something. What about Tuvio? Can you trust him?”
I nod, but Nica’s words linger in my mind. He has alcohol use disorder, yet I’ve never smelled alcohol on his breath—not like I have on Jackson more times than I can count.
Still, Nica was sure… and I can’t shake the nagging feeling about the Broad Corporation being involved in this.
Steven shifts, and my gaze catches on his hand for a split second. The missing finger. A reminder of the world we live in—the price of loyalty, of mistakes. It’s healed, but the absence is glaring.
I blink, forcing my focus back. “Broad has been circling around us this whole time. It has to be connected. We already know it’s some kind of front,” I say, glancing around the room. “But we don’t know what for or why it’s targeting us.”
My mind races, but there’s a hole I can’t fill—Nica. I grit my teeth, trying to focus, to think straight, but nothing comes.
Suddenly, an idea slams into me like a freight train.
“Gio, pull the feed from the safe house that night,” I say, voice low but edged with steel.
Gio glances up, brows drawn. “Why? What are you looking for?”
I don’t answer. My eyes are locked on Vinny. He’s fidgeting now, gaze flicking away like he’s searching for an exit that doesn’t exist.
“Who was in the woods with you?” I ask, stepping forward.
Gio, catching the shift in the air, taps into his phone. The screen glows, and grainy footage starts to roll. A shadow moves at the edge of the frame—blurry, indistinct.
I’ve seen this footage before. I thought it was a man. Some hired muscle, nothing more. I didn’t look closely. I didn’t want to look closely.
But now, watching again, something shifts.
The figure steps into the light—and my stomach drops.
The frame is lean. The movements—graceful, sharp, deliberate. Not a man. Not even close.
“Pause it,” I snap. Gio freezes the frame.
My hands ball into fists at my sides. I know that silhouette. That face. I’ve seen her before.
“She’s familiar,” I mutter, more to myself. Then I turn to Vinny, jaw tight. “Who is it?”
He shifts, slow and stiff, like the tension in the room is weighing him down. His lips twitch, but no words come.
I’m on him in an instant. The chair crashes back as I grab him by the collar and slam him against the wall. The thud echoes like a gunshot.
“Who the fuck is it?” I snarl, face inches from his.
He sputters. “I—I told you. Seraphina.”
“Liar.”
His silence confirms it. My rage flares.
“Fine!” he gasps. “It’s… it’s Susan.”
I freeze.
“What?” The word is hollow.
Vinny gulps. “Susan Galli.”
Time stops. Nica’s mother.
Her name hits like a sucker punch, like something cold and sharp ripping through my chest.
Susan. Galli.
The acid taste of betrayal fills my mouth. Of history. Of lies.
I step back, slowly, my hand still curled into a fist. My voice is low, trembling with barely-contained fury. “Why?”
Vinny lowers his head, but I won’t let him look away.
“Why the hell were you with her?”
Vinny flinches, his eyes dropping to the floor. He knows I’m not buying his bullshit, but he won’t meet my gaze. “She just wanted to tease you, mess with your heads... and so did I. That’s it. Nothing more.”
I don’t believe him. Not for a second.
My fists clench, the sharp edge of frustration cutting through me. I turn to Jackson, voice cold and controlled despite the storm churning in my chest. “Check what Nica’s mom is doing. What her company is up to. Now.”
A sick feeling twists in my gut. This can’t be happening. My mind races, trying to make sense of it, but the pieces don’t fit.
Why would Susan Galli kidnap her own daughter? Why? And what about her company? A money-laundering operation, a front? It doesn’t add up. Unless… unless I’ve been wrong about her all this time.
She’d been working in the shadows. Plotting. Planning. What? A takeover? A new empire of her own? While we were busy cleaning up the city, she’d been out there, dirtying it all over again.
No. It can’t be. Can it?
My thoughts spin in a whirlpool of disbelief, but I can’t shake the growing sense that I’ve missed something. Something crucial.
Jackson’s fingers fly across his phone, I hear the clicking of the keys. His brow furrows as he digs deeper, scrolling through records. The tension in his voice is palpable as he mutters, “I can’t find anything, damn it.”
“Look for aliases,” I snap, my voice sharp. “Run an AI search on possible cover names for Susan Galli and her company. I want every stone turned.”
“On it,” Jackson replies, his fingers flying over his phone again.
“It’s... it’s her. I know it’s her,” I murmur, trying to steady my breath. “Search for anything and everything. Sophia Galli, Susanna Guinea, anything.”
Jackson doesn’t miss a beat, his fingers still moving quickly searching the police’s secure databases.
A few minutes pass in tense silence as I pace back and forth, my eyes glued to the video feed again. My mind is racing, trying to process what we’re uncovering. I glance at Vinny. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about her?”
Vinny’s face pales. “It was just a joke from a long time ago—”
“You’re fucking lying.” I slam my fist onto the nearest table.
I step closer, ready to make him feel the weight of his mistake, but Jackson grabs my suit, pulling me back. He reeks of alcohol and sweat, but I don’t care.
He clears his throat. “Elio, I’ve got it. Sophia Gale—aka Susan Galli—owns The Broad Corporation. It’s looks like a money laundering front. She bought it a little over a year ago from the previous owner of Mighty Machines, which is another cover-up. She’s behind it all. Everything leads back to her. And she’s not just clever—she’s smart, Elio. And intelligence? That’s dangerous. She’s done everything to protect herself, cover her tracks.”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
My mind races. This is bigger than I thought. This isn’t just some petty operation; it’s a full-scale takeover happening right under my nose. Broad is working its way into New Haven’s mafia—quietly, methodically, like a shadow creeping up from behind. Money laundering fronts are just the beginning.
“Jackson,” I say, the weight of it all sinking in. “We’ve been blind to this. They’re moving in on the whole damn city, and we never saw it coming.”
“She’s trying to wipe out the De Luca family and take over,” Vinny grunts, his voice tight with anger. “Fucking bitch.”
For once, I agree with my stupid brother.
I pace the room, the pieces clicking together, finally falling into place. “Check other properties,” I bark at Jackson. “Where does she keep her operations? I want every scrap of intel you can find. Now.”
Jackson’s fingers fly over the screen again. The silence stretches for what feels like forever. Then, he looks up. “There’s a warehouse down by the dock. It’s hers. Not listed under her name, but it’s connected to her... through the company.”
I stop dead in my tracks.
That’s it. That’s where she is. Where Nica is. I know it.
“Let’s go,” I say.
Without another word, I turn on my heel and storm for the door. The others scramble to catch up, but I’m already on the move, every step fueled by one thing: getting to Nica before it’s too late.
* * *
The car ride to the docks is a blur of tension. My hands choke the wheel, knuckles pale against the leather. Vinny and Angelo stayed back at the mansion.
Jackson sits beside me, unshelved in his worn beige suit, his shirt rumpled, collar askew. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, and maybe he hasn’t. Gio rides in the back, calm but coiled, his broad frame filling the space, every inch of him ready to break bones if I gave the word.
We ride in silence. I don’t need words right now—I need action. I need her. I need answers. I need to know what kind of hell Susan Galli is unleashing.
I feel Gio’s gaze cut sideways. “So… why is her mother involved?”
Jackson leans forward, brow furrowed. “We’ve always known she’s rich—hell, she owns more property than some countries. But what if it’s more than that? What if she’s not just some private businesswoman?”
“She’s smart,” I mutter. “Smart and patient. She’s got connections. Resources. More than I gave her credit for.” I glance over. “Jackson, dig deeper. I don’t care how locked down her files are—break them open.”
He starts tapping on his phone, frowning. “Her name barely shows up. No scandals. No leaks. No trails. It’s like her life’s vacuum-sealed.”
“Maybe,” Gio says, voice low, “but she sure as hell knows who her daughter is. And if she’s kidnapped Nica, it’s not just personal—it’s strategic.”
Jackson goes still, then leans back slowly, his eyes narrowing. “The only thing that makes sense is you. Victoria’s connection to you. Susan’s been watching—waiting. And Nica… she’s the soft spot.”
The words hit like a bullet to the chest. My grip tightens on the wheel. “You’re saying Nica’s in danger because of me?”
Gio nods once.
“So she’s not just after the city,” I say slowly. “She wants me. It’s personal.”
“She’s using Victoria to get to you,” Gio says.
My chest tightens, breath shallow. Jackson glances over. “She found your weakness.”
“Nica’s not a weakness.”
“Not to you,” Jackson replies, steady. “But to Susan? To anyone looking for control? She is.”
I stare straight ahead, jaw locked. “She’s been using Nica as a pawn.”
Gio’s voice cuts through the silence. “Everything’s tied together—Susan, the company, you. This isn’t random.”
My patience snaps. “I don’t give a damn about her twisted plans.” My voice drops, cold and sharp. “I’m getting Nica back. And I’m ending this. Tonight.”
I turn to them, jaw set. “We’re at the docks.”
Jackson nods, his eyes locked on mine. “We’re with you.”
The warehouse looms ahead, dark and imposing in the night, the shadows twisting like ghosts in the mist. I don’t stop the car when we get close; I park it in the shadows, the tires crunching on gravel.
We get out, guns drawn. Every step feels like I’m walking into a nightmare, but I don’t care. Nothing matters but getting Nica out of there, out of whatever sick game Susan Galli is playing.