Chapter 18 Elio
I WAS IN my office reviewing security camera feeds when my phone rang.
Matteo. Unusual. He rarely called during the day unless something was wrong.
"What's up?" I answered.
The world stopped.
Everything stopped.
My heart. My breathing. Time itself.
"What?" The word came out strangled. Wrong. Like someone else was speaking.
"Julian was taken. Kidnapped. Professional job. You need to get there now."
I was already moving. Grabbed my jacket. My keys. My gun. Couldn't think. Couldn't process. Just moved on pure instinct.
"I'm on my way. Five minutes."
I ran. Actually ran through Inferno's hallways. Burst through the exit. Got in my car and drove like I was being chased by demons.
Five blocks. The coffee shop was five blocks away. I made it in three minutes through traffic that should've taken ten.
Stefan was standing on the sidewalk. Pale. Shaking. Looking lost.
Both security guards were on gurneys. Paramedics working on them. Unconscious but breathing. Thank God. They were alive.
But Julian—
"Where is he?" I grabbed Stefan's shoulders. "What happened? Tell me everything."
Stefan's words came out in a rush. Panicked.
Guilty. "We came for coffee. I went inside to order.
Julian stayed outside with security. When I came out—maybe two minutes later—both guards were down.
Julian was gone. Witnesses said three men.
Professional. Fast. Tranquilizer guns. They shot the guards first, then Julian.
Threw him in a black van. Gone in under thirty seconds. "
"Which direction?"
"East. Toward the waterfront. But Elio, that was twenty minutes ago. They could be anywhere by now."
I forced myself to breathe. To think. To function despite the terror clawing at my chest.
Professional job. Tranquilizer guns. Three men. Black van. This wasn't random. This was planned. Organized. Someone with resources and training.
I moved to where the guards had been standing. Looked at the scene with professional eyes despite my hands shaking.
Two tranquilizer darts on the ground. Orange fletching. Standard veterinary supply. Could be purchased legally. Untraceable.
Scuff marks on the pavement. Signs of a brief struggle. Julian had tried to fight. Of course he had. He was brave. Stubborn. Wouldn't go quietly.
Witnesses were still clustered nearby. I approached them systematically. Got descriptions. Three men, all in their thirties, fit, professional movements. Black cargo van with no plates visible. Headed east.
One witness—elderly woman who'd been in the coffee shop—said she'd heard them speak. "One said 'Got him. Move.' That's all. Very calm. Very organized."
I checked security cameras from nearby businesses. The coffee shop had exterior cameras. So did the convenience store across the street.
On the footage I watched it happen. Watched Julian standing there peacefully. Texting on his phone. Probably texting me.
Watched three men approach. Fast. Purposeful. Tranquilizer guns already raised.
Watched my security team try to react. Too slow. The attackers were better trained. Took them out in seconds.
Watched Julian turn to run. Watched the dart hit his neck. Watched him pull it out but too late. Watched his legs give out. Watched them catch him. Lift him. Carry him to the van.
Watched the van drive away with the person I loved unconscious in the back.
My chest was so tight I couldn't breathe. My vision was tunneling. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold my phone.
Julian. They had Julian.
Someone had taken him. Was holding him somewhere. Doing God knows what to him.
I was going to kill them. Slowly. Thoroughly. Make them regret every second of this.
But first I had to find him.
I called Sandro. "Emergency meeting. My office. Now. All partners. Julian's been kidnapped."
Twenty minutes later I was in my office with all three partners. Sandro. Matteo. Luca. Plus Stefan looking guilty and terrified in equal measure.
I forced myself to present the facts calmly. Professionally. Like this was just another security incident. Like my entire world wasn't collapsing.
"Three men. Professional execution. Tranquilizer guns. Took out both security guards before grabbing Julian. Total operation time was under thirty seconds. They knew what they were doing. This wasn't opportunistic. It was planned."
"Who?" Sandro's voice was cold. Deadly. "Who would dare?"
I'd been asking myself that question since the moment Matteo called. Running through possibilities. Eliminating suspects.
"Not Winston. He's in federal custody. Powerless. Can't organize something like this."
"The FBI?" Luca suggested.
"No. They'd arrest, not kidnap. This was extraction, not law enforcement. Besides, tranquilizer guns? That's not federal procedure."
"Rival families?" Matteo asked.
"No motive. Julian's valuable to us but not to them. And the professional execution—this wasn't mob violence. This was calculated. Surgical."
"Then who?" Sandro demanded.
I thought about the card. I'm watching, little spitfire. Thought about Dante Caruso. About his obsession with Julian. About what Julian had told me happened when he was sixteen.
Cold certainty settled in my chest. Replaced panic with focused rage.
"Dante Caruso."
The room went silent.
"He's obsessed with Julian," I continued.
Voice flat. Controlled. "Has been since they were engaged.
Julian put him in the hospital at sixteen for trying to rape him.
But Dante never let it go. He sent Julian a threatening card two weeks ago.
'I'm watching, little spitfire.' He's been waiting for an opportunity. "
"The public exposure," Luca said. "When Julian's identity got leaked. That told Dante exactly where Julian was. Who he was with. Gave him a target."
"And Dante has resources," Matteo added. "The Caruso family isn't as big as ours but they've got reach. Got connections. Could absolutely organize a professional kidnapping."
Sandro was already pulling up files on his computer. "The Carusos operate out of Philadelphia but they've got interests in New York. Real estate. Shipping. Several legitimate fronts that could hide someone."
"He won't ask for ransom," I said. My voice was getting rougher. Harder to control. "This isn't about money or leverage. Dante wants Julian. Wants to take back what he thinks belongs to him. Wants to finish what he started when Julian was sixteen."
The thought made bile rise in my throat. Made my vision go red. Made violence surge through me so intensely I could barely contain it.
Dante had Julian. Was holding him somewhere. Doing—
I couldn't finish the thought. Couldn't let myself imagine what Dante might be doing to Julian right now. If I did, I'd lose control completely. Would tear apart this office. Would destroy everything until I found him.
"We're getting him back." Matteo's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "We mobilize everything. Everyone. We tear this city apart until we find Julian and bring him home."
"Agreed," Sandro said. "Elio, what do you need?"
Everything. I needed everything. Every resource. Every person. Every tool at our disposal.
"Full mobilization. Every security team member called in.
Every street informant activated. I want access to traffic cameras citywide.
CCTV from every business in a ten-block radius of the coffee shop.
Facial recognition running on Dante and known Caruso associates.
Our police contacts checking their systems for any reports. "
"Done," Sandro said. "Luca, use your networks. Anyone who might have information. Anyone who's seen Caruso family movement in the city. Find out where they've been. What properties they control."
"On it." Luca was already on his phone. Making calls. Activating connections.
"Matteo, I need your people on surveillance. Every known Caruso property. Warehouses. Businesses. Real estate holdings. If they're using one to hold Julian, I want it identified."
"You'll have it within the hour." Matteo stood. "And Elio? We're getting your man back. Whatever it takes. No limits. No hesitation. We protect family."
The words hit hard. Your man. Family.
They knew. They all knew how much Julian meant to me. And they were all in. United. Ready to go to war.
"Thank you," I managed.
Stefan spoke up for the first time. "This is my fault. I should've stayed with him. Should've made him come inside. Should've—"
"No." I cut him off. "This isn't your fault. This is on Dante. On the people who took him. Not you. You were getting coffee. Julian was with trained security. Nobody could've predicted they'd be that fast. That professional."
"But—"
"Stefan." Sandro's voice was firm. "Elio's right. This isn't on you. What we need now is for you to help. Pull every financial record we have on Caruso family operations. Real estate purchases. Shell companies. Anything that might give us a location. Can you do that?"
Stefan straightened. "Yes. I can do that."
"Good. Let's move."
Within an hour we'd turned one of Inferno's back offices into a command center.
Maps of New York City covered one wall. Red pins marking every known Caruso property. Blue pins marking recent activity. Yellow pins marking possibles.
Computer screens showing traffic camera feeds. CCTV footage. Facial recognition hits. Real-time data flowing in from dozens of sources.
Twenty security team members working phones. Following leads. Coordinating searches.
I stood at the center of it all trying to function. Trying to be effective. Trying not to fall apart completely.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. My chest was so tight I could barely breathe. Cold sweat soaked through my shirt. I'd vomited twice in the bathroom. Had to lean against the wall for five minutes just to stop my legs from giving out.
But I kept working. Kept coordinating. Kept searching.
Because Julian needed me. And I wouldn't fail him.
The first hour produced nothing. No sightings. No leads. The black van had disappeared.