Chapter Fourteen
Marcello
The Past Returns
The phone slips from my hand. It clatters onto the hardwood floor, as the guard’s words crush the air from my lungs. Safia. Gone. A bloodbath at the furniture store. My mind races, the world narrowing to a single point of clarity: find her.
I fumble to retrieve my phone, my fingers trembling as I dial my father’s number. It rings once, twice, before his calm, fatherly voice answers.
”Dad.” My voice is barely above a whisper, yet it feels like a scream tearing from my chest. ”Safia... She”s been taken. There”s blood everywhere, people dead, but no Safia. No one knows where she is.”
There”s a pause, a moment too long, before Ramiri speaks. ”Marcello, listen to me. Stay calm. I just received the same call you did from our security team. They told me James is in the hospital. He’s stable, but it was close. He took a bullet to the stomach.”
“Yes, he’ll make it, but Safia is missing.” My knees buckle at the sound of that admission. “They took her!”
“We’re going to find her,” he says, his voice a rock in the storm raging inside me. It didn’t matter that he was my uncle, in my heart, he would always be my father. ”You need to alert your team to the emergency plan. I”ll reach out to your brother for reinforcements,” he said, bringing me back to the urgent need to instate a plan for Safia’s return.
He’s reaching out to my brother.
Brother…
Hearing him refer to Vito makes me remember the night I found out he was my brother. It had been a call like this one where I alerted my father that Safia’s name had been found on the dark web, along with a bounty. I had called Ramiri and he told me that he would reach out to my brother. And that was when I froze.
Brother? The word hung in the air. “Brother? What do you mean brother?”
He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second.
My suspicion flared, a hot, searing pain in my gut.
“Now is not the time to go into that,” he said, a note of finality in his voice.
“Now is the time, Ramiri!” I snapped, the facade of calm shattering. I had never called him by his first name, but what in the hell was he saying? “I find out my fiancée is being hunted down like an animal, and now you have a slip of the tongue saying that I have a brother? What aren’t you telling me?”
Silence. The kind that stretched and suffocated.
“Vito is your brother,” he finally said, the words landing like a blow.
“Does that mean he is your son?” I asked, my voice cracking, each syllable an assault on my understanding of my own life.
“No.” His voice was flat and devoid of the warmth it usually carried.
“Then...” The pieces clicked into place, a jagged, horrific puzzle. “Are you saying I am Alfonso’s son.” That realization tore through me, unraveling every memory, every belief I’d held about my father. “My entire childhood… my relationship with my father... has been that of a nephew?”
“Your childhood, your relationship as my son, has been a real one. You are his biological son, yes. But you are my son,” he insisted, but his words did nothing to stem the tide of confusion and betrayal crashing over me.
The quick walk down memory lane makes me emotional. Knowing that this time, it isn’t a scare, that they really have taken her from me makes me unravel.
I take a breath, force my voice to steady. “Call Vito. Tell him to meet me at the safe house. I’m on my way there.”
“Marcello—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Do it, Ramiri.” The words are steel, unyielding. I hang up before he can say anything else, the click of the phone a punctuation to the chaos spiraling around me.
I grab my keys, my heart pounding a relentless drumbeat in my chest. Every second counts. I have to find Safia. I have to piece together the shattered fragments of my life, even as the world burns around me.
The city blurs around me as I barrel down the streets, forcing every thought into sharp focus. Rage, fear, betrayal—they”re distractions. I need to be precise, ruthless. The man who will save Safia, the man who will rip apart anyone who stands in his way.
The safe house is tucked away in a maze of city streets, its nondescript facade hiding the fortress within. I pull up, leap out of the car, scanning the shadows. Every nerve is a live wire, every sense on high alert.
Vito stands against the wall, a silhouette of tension and readiness. His eyes lock onto mine, and a silent agreement passes between us. We shared blood, history, and now, a mission. This is more than a rescue. It”s a declaration of war.
“Marcello,” Vito greets me, his voice steady but laced with urgency. “We need a plan. Fast.”
I nod, already pulling out my phone. ”Prosper, I need you to track Safia. Use every camera, every facial recognition system. I want eyes on her, now.”
Prosper’s voice crackles through the speaker, calm and methodical. “I’m on it. I’ll have something for you in minutes.”
Minutes feel like an eternity. I turn to Vito, laying out the next steps. “Get the men ready. Full gear, military style. We’re hitting them hard and fast. I want helicopters in the air, mopeds on the ground. Cover every escape route. Informants need to start talking.”
Vito’s face hardens with resolve. “I’ve already mobilized them. The DeLuca army is moving. We have spies inside the Grecozi family. They’ll relay any movement.”
”Good,” I say, a cold edge to my voice. ”We’ll also keep an eye on Jack Dunner”s brother. Jack tried to take Safia before. We ended him, but his connections could still be a threat.”
Vito nods, then pauses, his expression shifting. “Marcello, there”s something else. Rumor has it Paleto Grecozi is the one behind this. He’s made moves against us before, but this… it’s personal for him.”
Paleto. The name seethes through me like poison. The man who has Safia. “Where is he?” I demand, each word a blade.
“We have intel on a warehouse outside the city,” Vito says. “He’s fortified it. But with our numbers and firepower, we can breach it.”
Prosper’s voice cuts back in over the phone. “I’ve got a hit. Safia was seen near an industrial area on the outskirts. Cameras show a black SUV entering a gated warehouse complex. It matches the description of Grecozi’s compound.”
The pieces fall into place. The compound. The SUV. Paleto. “That’s our target,” I say, the plan crystallizing in my mind. “We hit Grecozi’s compound with everything we’ve got. No one leaves until Safia is safe.”
Vito’s eyes gleam with a dangerous light. “We’ll make them regret ever touching her.”
I nod, adrenaline surging through me. “Get everyone ready. We move in ten.”
Minutes later, the safe house is a flurry of activity. Men in combat gear load into vehicles, weapons glinting in the dim light. Helicopters are prepped for takeoff, their rotors slicing through the night air. Mopeds line the streets, ready to weave through traffic and block escape routes.
I pull Vito aside, our breaths mingling in the cool night air. “When we go in, I want a perimeter locked down. No one gets out. If Paleto’s there, he doesn’t leave alive.”
Vito grips my shoulder, his eyes burning with the same fire that’s roaring inside me. “We’ll get her back, Marcello. And we’ll make them pay.”
The convoy roars to life, engines snarling as we surge out into the night. Prosper’s voice guides us through the city, his updates a lifeline in the chaos. We approach the industrial area, the compound looming ahead, dark and foreboding.
Helicopters hover overhead, their searchlights piercing the darkness. Mopeds zip through alleyways, positioning themselves at every possible exit. Our vehicles roll to a stop, and men pour out, weapons at the ready, faces set in grim determination.
I step forward, Vito at my side, the compound”s gates towering before us. The silence is oppressive, a coiled tension ready to explode.
“On my signal,” I whisper into my earpiece, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “We breach the gates and take them down. Remember, we’re here for Safia. Nothing else matters.”
A heartbeat. Two. Then I give the signal.
Explosions rip through the gates, shattering the silence. We surge forward, a relentless wave of fury and precision. Bullets fly, shouts echo through the night.
We move through the compound with lethal efficiency, cutting down anyone who stands in our way. My focus is a razor’s edge, slicing through the chaos, driving me toward Safia.
We reach the main building, a fortress within a fortress. Vito signals the men, and they set charges, blowing the doors wide open. We storm inside, the corridors a blur of violence and urgency.
Every room is searched.
But there no Paleto or Safia.
I abandon the house and begin to search around the property, finding an old warehouse in the back. I enter with my gun cocked and at the ready.
Then I see her.
Safia. Bound and defiant, her eyes blazing with a fury that matches my own. Paleto stands over her, a smug grin on his face.
“DeLuca,” he sneers, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. “Are you here for our nuptials? Sorry, you’re too late.”
I don’t give him a chance to speak again. I move forward, faster than he thought, and land a blow that sends him sprawling.
“Touch her again, and you die,” I hiss, my voice a low growl.
Paleto scrambles back, but he’s surrounded. There’s no escape. I turn to Safia, my hands shaking as I untie her, pulling her into my arms.
“Marcello,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “You’re here.”
“I’ll always come for you,” I promise, holding her tight.
Then, I feel her pull away slightly, her body tense with a different kind of energy. She looks up at me, eyes blazing. “Let me have him,” she demands, voice filled with a fierce determination. “I need to do this. For my family.”
“Safia,” Vito protests, stepping forward. “It’s too dangerous. We need to get out of here. We don’t know what’s coming behind this ambush.”
“Let her have this. She needs it,” I say, my voice steady as I meet Vito’s gaze. “Take away his weapons. Let them fight.”
Vito hesitates, then nods, signaling to the men. They move quickly, disarming Paleto and forming a tight circle around us. Paleto’s eyes dart around, panic flickering beneath his defiant mask.
I step back, giving Safia room. She squares her shoulders, every muscle taut with focus.
Paleto smirks, trying to regain his bravado. “You think you can take me, little girl?”
Safia doesn’t respond. She moves like a coiled spring, exploding with a precision and ferocity that takes Paleto by surprise. Her fist connects with his jaw, snapping his head back.
Paleto staggers, then lunges at her, but she’s already sidestepped, landing a kick to his ribs. He grunts, the wind knocked out of him, but he’s not giving up. He swings wildly, but Safia ducks under his arm and delivers a punishing blow to his stomach.
I watch, my heart pounding with pride and fury. Safia is a force of nature, channeling her grief and rage into each strike. Paleto stumbles, blood trickling from his mouth.
“Is this what you wanted?” Safia shouts, her voice trembling with emotion. “You killed my family for this? For money?”
Paleto tries to answer, but Safia cuts him off with a brutal punch to the side of his head. He crumples to the ground, gasping for breath. She stands over him, fists clenched, chest heaving.
Vito steps forward, ready to intervene, but I hold up a hand. “Let her finish.”
Safia kneels beside Paleto, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him close. “Was it worth it?” she hisses, her voice cold and steady. “Was any of it worth it?”
Paleto’s eyes flicker with fear and pain. He tries to speak, but no words come. Safia releases him, pushing him back onto the floor. She stands, looking down at him pure rage in her eyes.
“Enough,” I say softly, stepping to her side. “It’s over.”
Safia nods, her eyes meeting mine. There’s a fire there, a strength that makes my heart swell. She’s not just a survivor. She’s a warrior.
“You’re right baby. It’s over.” And in one quick movement, she takes the gun from my waist and fires a shit into Paleto’s right eye, putting him to eternal rest.
Vito voice cuts through the commotion. “We have to move. Now!”
I nod, taking Safia’s hand as we push through the chaos.
“Wait,” she reaches and grabs an old red laptop off of a nearby table. “This was my father’s.”
Our men cover our retreat.
As we drive away, the compound falls away behind us, swallowed by the night. But in Safia’s eyes, I see the dawn of something new—something powerful and unbreakable.
While she will never have her family back, she has taken back some of the power Paleto’s schemes took away.
As we make our way back to the safe house, I hold her hand, the world settling into focus around her. The battle isn’t over, but tonight, we’ve won.