Chapter Twenty-Six
Matteo DeLuca was not a patient man. He was not merciful. And tonight, he was not interested in negotiations.
The convoy tore through the city, black SUVs cutting through the night like shadows hunting their prey. The world outside blurred past Matteo as he sat rigid in his seat, his fingers curled tightly around the grip of his gun. His mind was locked on one thing—Isla. They had taken her. Her father had taken her. And that was a sin he would not let go unpunished.
"We’ve got a confirmed location," Luca said from the front seat, his voice steady, but even he couldn’t hide the edge of tension in his tone. "Warehouse district on the west side. It’s one of Leonardo’s old distribution hubs."
Matteo exhaled slowly, his rage sharpening to something lethal. "Who’s inside?"
"About fifteen men, maybe more. Guard rotations are sloppy, but they’re expecting trouble. If she’s there, they’ll have her locked down."
Matteo glanced out the window, the street lights cutting across his face like streaks of fire. "Then we don’t give them time to react. We go in fast. We go in loud."
The men in the vehicle nodded. There was no hesitation, no fear. Matteo’s war was their war. And tonight, they would remind everyone why the DeLuca name was spoken in hushed, reverent fear.
The SUVs screeched to a halt just outside the warehouse, engines still humming as doors slammed open. Matteo was the first to move, stepping into the night like a predator scenting blood. His men fanned out, their movements efficient, weapons drawn.
Luca signaled the second team, positioning snipers along the adjacent rooftop. "We breach in sixty seconds. No one gets out unless they’re bleeding."
Matteo’s pulse was steady. He had been raised for moments like this, sharpened into something unrelenting by years of war. But this was different. This wasn’t just about power. This wasn’t just about sending a message.
This was about her.
He checked his watch. "Go."
The first explosion rocked the night, shattering the metal doors and sending guards scrambling. Gunfire erupted in response, but Matteo was already inside, moving through the chaos like a ghost. His gun kicked in his hand, each shot precise, each target falling before they had a chance to understand what was happening.
Luca and his men swept the perimeter, cutting through Leonardo’s guards with brutal efficiency. The warehouse floor was a battlefield of screaming men and ringing bullets, bodies collapsing under the sheer force of the ambush. Matteo didn’t slow, didn’t stop. He advanced toward the inner offices, his heart pounding like war drums in his chest.
Then he saw the empty chair.
Ropes dangled from its sides, the faintest trace of blood smeared across the metal arms. The sight made something cold and merciless unfurl inside him.
"She was here," Luca said from the doorway, scanning the room, his own fury barely contained.
Matteo’s fingers twitched against the trigger. "And now she’s gone."
He turned, his vision sharpening as he looked at the last remaining guard, the one still gasping for breath on the floor, clutching his wounded leg. Matteo crossed the room in three long strides, grabbed the man by the collar, and yanked him up so their faces were inches apart.
"Where is she?" Matteo’s voice was deadly quiet.
The man choked, his lips trembling as he struggled to find words. "T-they moved her. An hour ago. H-headed south—one of the old villa—"
Matteo didn’t wait for more. He let go, letting the man slump to the ground before turning back to Luca. "Find out which villa. We move now."
Luca nodded, already pulling out his phone. "We’ll find her."
Matteo’s grip on his gun tightened. His men were still sweeping the building, finishing off the stragglers, but he had already moved beyond this place. His mind was on Isla. On the people who had taken her. On the bodies that would soon burn for thinking they could keep her from him.
He stalked back out onto the main warehouse floor, his presence alone halting the murmured voices of his men. Blood coated the floor, bodies littered in pools of red. But Matteo wasn’t done.
He turned to one of the men still kneeling, wrists bound, his face bruised and bloodied from Luca’s earlier interrogation. "You worked for Leonardo," Matteo said, his voice almost calm. "You helped him take her."
The man swallowed hard, nodding, knowing there was no escape. "Please—I was just following orders."
Matteo nodded, then pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed through the building, silencing any remaining protest. "I don’t accept apologies," Matteo muttered, reloading his weapon. "Only results."
Luca exhaled sharply. "Matteo—"
"Get the men together. We leave in ten minutes. If she’s not at that villa, we burn everything Leonardo owns until he has nowhere left to hide."
Luca hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Understood."
Matteo turned, stepping back into the cool night air, his blood still thrumming with rage. He had always been a man of control, of calculated action.
Tonight, that control was gone.
Tonight, he was fire, and Leonardo Marino was going to choke on the smoke of everything he loved burning to the ground.
The drive to the villa was silent except for the hum of the engines and the rhythmic tapping of Matteo’s fingers against his gun. Every second that passed felt like a wasted moment he could have spent getting to Isla.
Luca kept glancing at him, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. His fingers tapped absently against his knee, a habit Matteo had long since recognized as a sign of unease. "You should know… if Leonardo took her, he’s not just keeping her as leverage. He’s making a statement."
Matteo’s grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles went white. "And so will I."
Luca let out a slow breath, tilting his head slightly as he studied Matteo’s face. "You do realize what this means, don’t you? He’s daring you to come for her. He wants you angry, reckless. He thinks if he dangles her in front of you, you’ll make a mistake."
Matteo didn’t look away from the road. His focus was razor-sharp, his blood thrumming with cold, lethal intent. "Let him think that. It’ll be the last mistake he ever makes."
Luca chuckled darkly, though there was no humor in it. "Jesus, you’ve really lost it over her, haven’t you?"
Matteo didn’t answer immediately. He knew what Luca was implying—that Isla wasn’t just another casualty, another pawn in this game. That she had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had. And Luca was right. Matteo had lost it. Had lost the ability to think rationally where she was concerned. But he wasn’t about to admit that.
"Doesn’t matter what I feel," Matteo muttered. "She’s mine. And no one takes what’s mine."
Luca shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. "Then you better make damn sure you don’t walk into this blind. Leonardo knows exactly what he’s doing. If you’re not careful, you’ll be playing right into his hands."
Matteo’s gaze darkened. "Then I’ll cut them off. One by one. Until there’s nothing left of him but regret."
When they arrived at the villa, the guards barely had time to react before Matteo’s men descended on them. The sound of silenced gunfire cut through the night, bodies dropping before alarms could be raised.
Matteo moved through the shadows, his heart hammering. He would find her. He would end anyone who had touched her.
And when he had her back?
He would make sure no one dared take her from him again.