Chapter 31
Lucien
I'd just ordered a lockdown of the entire South Dakota border when I was told a suspicious crew was lurking nearby. Something felt off.
Carlo's words—that old snake—sawed back and forth across my nerves like a rusted blade. I had to check it out myself. Turned out to be some lost hiking group. Once I dealt with it, I practically flew back to the cabin.
The car barely stopped before I shoved the door open and strode toward the wood door with its warm orange porch light. The house was quiet. No Leo's laughter. No soft sounds of Elora slicing apples in the kitchen.
I pounded three times on the door. Mary opened it, panic written all over her face. When she saw me, she looked like a drowning woman grabbing a lifeline.
"Mr. Genovese! Thank God! Is Elora with you? Did she come back?"
My heart clenched like someone had grabbed it with an iron fist.
"She's not with me. Where did she go?"
"I don't know. I wanted to take time off, but I couldn't reach her." Mary was practically crying.
Blood rushed from my head. Something happened to her.
"Enzo!" I spun around, roaring toward the door. "Find her! Pull up the tracking on that old pickup! Activate every camera in town—"
The screech of tires cut through my orders. Julian Moretti came at me with murder in his eyes, charging up the steps.
Enzo and Rocco drew their guns instinctively, barrels aimed straight at Julian's forehead. Julian didn't even look. He stormed up the steps, grabbed my collar, and slammed me against the doorframe.
"You arrogant bastard!" Julian's eyes were bloodshot. "Where the hell were you? This is your fault! You led that monster right to her!"
I ignored his accusations and grabbed his wrist. "Where is she?"
"Carlo Casalesi's mercenaries took her!" Julian's jaw was tight. "My men found her pickup at the abandoned lookout station near Black Pine Ridge! Signs of a struggle. Drug residue. Carlo moved her out of South Dakota fifteen minutes before your lockdown went up!"
My brain went into vacuum. All sound faded except Carlo's vicious curse echoing in my ears—a diversion! That hiking group was definitely Carlo's doing.
But why take Elora? Unless...
"Rocco." I released Julian and turned around, my voice so calm it sounded foreign even to me. "We're going back to New York."
"Boss..." Rocco swallowed hard, his face pale. "New York's huge. We—"
"It's not that complicated." I strode down the steps. "Search all abandoned medical properties under the Casalesi name—anything near water with underground bunkers or secret basements."
Julian followed. His voice was sharp. "Staten Island. Oceanview Medical Research Center. Moretti intel just confirmed it last week as one of Carlo's secret asset transfer points. Former World War II facility. Three underground levels—nuclear-grade sterile medical compound."
I stopped and looked at him. For the first time, I actually appreciated this man.
"You stay here. Watch Leo. I'm bringing my woman back. If Carlo's people touch one hair on her head, the entire Casalesi family goes down with him."
During the three-hour flight to New York, I took out my gun and stripped it, cleaned it, loaded it—over and over. If I hadn't backed Carlo into a corner... if I'd seen through that father-daughter act sooner... if I'd tightened the protection net...
Regret ate through my insides like millions of flesh-eating ants. That woman had barely escaped her nightmares, and I'd shoved her right back into the jaws of death.
"Elora... hang on. Wait for me."
I closed my eyes and pressed the barrel against my forehead.
If she died, I'd rip that damned heart right out of Serena's chest. I'd make Carlo scream for seven days and seven nights with the cruelest torture I could devise. Then I'd give my life for hers.
Rain hammered down on Oceanview Medical Research Center. High chain-link fencing surrounded the perimeter. Four mercenaries in black tactical vests patrolled the grounds with attack dogs.
I quietly positioned my team, pulled the tactical knife from my thigh holster, and slapped a spare magazine into my vest.
"Rocco, take Team Two and clear the perimeter. Seal every sewer line and air vent. Not even a rat gets out. The rest of you—with me."
I moved like a ghost through shattered stone and broken walls into the underground passage. After taking out the six guards outside, another charged at me. I kicked his kneecap. Bones snapped. I stomped on his chest and crushed his windpipe.
Level one. Level two. No mercy.
"Level three entrance! Boss!" Enzo, covered in blood, caught up and pressed breaching charges against the door seam.
The dull boom tore a gap in the heavy metal door. I kicked it hard. The warped door gave way. Blinding surgical lights flooded my vision.
A massive underground operating room with top-tier equipment. My eyes swept the space. Then my heart felt like someone drove an ice pick straight through it.
In the center of the room, on a cold metal operating table, Elora was strapped down with thick leather restraints.
Her face was deathly pale. She was unconscious.
The surgeon already had sterile gloves on.
His scalpel hovered less than two inches above her chest. Half a second later, they would've cut her open.
"Elora!"
I let out a roar like a wounded animal. The surgeon whipped around in terror. Before he could speak, I pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through his eye socket and right hand.
"Lucien!"
At the far end of the room stood Carlo, his face twisted with fury. Eight guards with submachine guns surrounded him, every barrel locked on me. In another glass-enclosed surgical chamber, Serena lay hooked up to life support.
But Carlo didn't order them to fire. I glanced at the monitors on the wall—Elora's heart rate and blood pressure were still normal. The anesthesia hadn't reached extraction depth yet.
"So you came after all. For this lying bitch, you threw away the last shred of respect between us!" Carlo snarled like a rabid hyena. "Lucky for you, she's got fifteen more minutes. Once the drugs kick in, I'm ripping her heart out right in front of you!"
I walked forward slowly, gun trained on Carlo's chest. "You're not leaving here alive today. Let her go, and I'll leave you in one piece."
"One piece?" Carlo's laughter turned manic. "My daughter's dying! This heart is her only chance! Lucien, you think you still control everything? You have one pistol. I have eight submachine guns! Even if I die, I'm dragging you and that filthy whore to hell with me!"
Carlo raised his cane and screamed. "Fire! Kill them! Kill them all!"
Deafening gunfire shattered the surgical lights. A metal storm of bullets tore through the room. Glass chambers and equipment exploded under the onslaught.
There was no real cover in the operating room. And half those bullets were headed straight for Elora—strapped to that table, defenseless.
They'd shred her. She'd die right in front of me.
"No—!"
I didn't hesitate for a microsecond. I launched myself like a missile and threw my body over hers, covering her completely.
Bullets ripped through the edges of my vest and buried themselves in my side.
Second round. Third. They punched through my left shoulder and lower back.
Pain like molten lava flooded my chest. I heard my ribs crack.
Breathing turned wet—punctured lung. Blood frothed up my throat. I could taste my own organs.
"Lucien..."
A faint, terrified whisper came from beneath me. Her voice. I opened my eyes slightly. Elora lay in my arms, still weak from the drugs. She was okay. Thank God. She wasn't hurt.
I tried to smile, tried to reassure her, but only thick blood bubbled from my throat. In the brief gap between bursts of fire, I fought through the agony of my spine threatening to snap and raised my Glock with my nearly useless right hand.
Carlo stood a few yards away, hysterical with triumph, raising his cane to order the guards to empty their last magazine.
"Die, you fool."
I used my last breath to roll halfway off Elora. Raised the gun. Didn't even have time to aim.
Carlo's manic laughter stopped. His cloudy eyes bulged. A brass-colored bullet went straight through his forehead. The back of his skull exploded in a spray of blood. He crashed to the floor.
With Carlo down, Enzo finally broke through the fire suppression outside and tore the remaining guards to pieces.
The gunfire stopped. I was so tired.
All sensation seemed to drain away with my blood. I collapsed back onto the metal table, slid off her body, and fell toward the floor. The light in my vision spun and darkened. Those harsh surgical lights seemed farther and farther away.
Elora rolled off the operating table.
"Lucien... Lucien!"
She was shaking, desperately trying to press her hands over the bullet wounds in my side and chest.
"No... please, don't..."
Hot tears fell on my face. She collapsed onto my chest, begging.
"Don't leave me... Lucien, please don't leave me! Open your eyes and look at me! I forgive you! I forgive you for everything! Don't die!"
I wanted to lift my hand and wipe the tears and blood from her face. I wanted to tell her not to be afraid—the bad guys were dead. I wanted to tell her with everything I had that I knew Leo was my son, that the kid even threw tantrums exactly like me.
"Elora..." I moved my lips with difficulty. "Don't cry... I..."
I had so much left to say. We had a whole lifetime ahead of us.
But my eyelids were too heavy. I tried so hard to keep my eyes open, to memorize her face, but that bottomless, silent darkness swallowed me whole.