15. Vera
Chapter 15
Vera
I can't wait another second. I can’t let them hold me back. I have to get inside that hideout—my son is waiting. Every fiber of my being is screaming to move, urging me forward.
Adrian confirms that backup is on the way, suggesting we wait, but I can’t. My heart races, adrenaline thrumming through my veins, and before I can second-guess myself, I grab the door handle of the car and push it open.
I hear Massimo call my name, his voice low and commanding, but I ignore him. I’m already running—my feet moving fast across the snowy ground, towards the shadows of the docks.
The snow beneath my feet crunches softly, blending into the white winter landscape.
My heart pounds in my chest, but it’s not fear for myself.
It’s fear for him .
My son.
The thought of him locked up inside this place—possibly scared, confused, or worse—twists my stomach into knots. My eyes water against the cold wind, but I push forward.
The yelling behind me becomes more distant—Adrian and Massimo must have started the distraction.
I silently thank them as I focus on the task ahead.
I’m close now, close to the small building nestled between the warehouses. It’s barely visible, tucked into the shadows, but I know—this is it. This is where they’ve been keeping my son.
I slip through the darkness, my breath heavy with anticipation, my white coat blending perfectly into the snow-covered ground. The guards have moved, drawn away by the commotion Adrian and Massimo have caused.
I kick off my heels, the stone floor freezing under my bare feet, but I barely register the cold. The silence inside the building is eerie, amplifying the echo of my heartbeat.
“Hello?” I whisper, the word shaky and low. Nothing moves.
My pulse quickens as I step further into the building. It’s small, compact—there are only a few places he could be.
Cubicles line the edges of the room, and I hurry toward the first one.
Empty. It’s an office, abandoned.
My eyes dart to the second room, a storeroom filled with crates.
There’s a crowbar on the ground, and without thinking, I grab it, holding it tight, feeling a small surge of strength return.
Then I hear it—a soft, weak cry.
I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat. “Hello?” I whisper again, a little louder this time. The cry—it was a child. My heart pounds harder, urging me forward.
Gunshots explode outside, ripping through the night, and I feel the child scream in response. The sound is terrifying—full of fear.
The battle outside between Adrian, Massimo, and the guards has begun. I pray they can hold them off long enough.
I need time—I need to get my son out of here before anyone else realizes I’m inside.
I push through the storeroom, kicking open the door to another cubicle. Empty again.
My breath catches in my throat as panic swells.
But I can’t stop.
I won’t stop.
I have to find him.
Suddenly, a man steps out of the shadows, blocking my path. His sneer is wide and malicious.
"Hello, pretty," he snarls, his voice dripping with menace. "What are you doing here, dressed like that? Did Santa Claus send me a little gift?"
My grip tightens around the crowbar. I have no time to think, no time to second-guess myself. He steps closer, his grin widening, and without hesitation, I swing the crowbar with all my strength. It connects with his head, and the sound of bone cracking fills the air. His eyes widen in shock before rolling back, and he collapses to the floor, blood pooling beneath him.
I’m trembling. I’ve never killed anyone before. The weight of what I’ve done presses down on me, but I don’t have time for guilt. Not now.
I step over his body and move toward the next cubicle, my heart pounding in my chest. The sounds of gunfire outside grow louder, but I force myself to focus. I have to find him.
I run towards the last cubicle, hoping—praying—that this is where my son is being held.