Luciano's POV-
I stormed out of the house with anger in my stride , and Maria's photo in my hand. I looked at it again and it made my chest ache so deep, I could barely breathe, my lungs tightened, refusing to pull the air. I thought I was going to pass out, but I straightened, raked a hand through my hair. No, I couldn't break down Maria wants me steady. My little kiddo is waiting for me somewhere. I refuse to believe anything else, because if I did, I might not remain sane, let alone steady.
I checked the photo again, for a clue, a logo, an insignia, a location, anything, anything that could lead me to my little sister. There were none. Those kidnappers were smart and brave. Brave enough to kidnap Luciano Rossetti's sister but not for long. I'll strip their bravely with my bare hands, and the world will know what happens when you touch my sister. I pulled out my phone and hit call.
One hour later-
Luca sat beside me in the car with a bleeding nose working on his laptop and barking orders to the men who were checking the CCTV of that area, to the search the location for any sign of the vehicle they might have used.
His nose? Yeah, l punched him in the face after he told me to relax for the 4th time since he arrived.
I'll share him the next time with my gun next if he asked me that one more time.
We were going to Rose's house to see if we can find anything, the cyber team hasn't found anything yet, l've never felt this helpless in my entire life.
We reached Rose's house, I literally jumped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop. I rang the doorbell, after a few seconds of, a women of same age as Mama's opened the door, she recognised me, ofcourse she did, Rose has been friends with Maria since they were in kinder garden,
"What happened Luciano? Is everything okay?",before l could've replied, Rose slated at the door in blue pajamas,
"Luciano? You're here?? Is Maria okay?"
I didn't know what to tell her. How do l tell her??
"No she's not okay! She's gotten kidnapped.",Luca replied saving me from the dilemma.
I inhaled sharply, those words sounded bitter, they should not be used for my sister. I never thought I'd ever listen anything like that but here l am.
"What?, How?, When?", came the series of questions, Rose's eyes were already filling. I raised a hand before they could ask more questions. I don't have time for emotions right now.
"We don't have time for questions right now, l need your help Rose."
She wiped her eyes and said, "Anything."
"At what time did Maria leave from here?", Luca asked.
"Around 6:00 ", she replied.
"And you got the photo at 8:00", Luca said to me.
I nodded.
2 hours, all this was done in 2 hours which went only meant one thing someone strong was pulling the strings otherwise it wouldn't have been possible to kidnap a girl from the street and not even get captured by a single camera.
"Let's search around the house, we might find something", Luca said patting my shoulder.
Yeah! We better do find something Or else l swear to god, l'll lose my control and if l lose that l don't know what l'll do.
____________X______________
Author's POV-
The kidnappers sat a few feet away from an unconscious Maria, the four of them talking among themselves about what could've been their boss's reason to kidnap this girl? And how they had fooled Luciano Rossetti, the new rising star of the mafia world.
"He maybe still is crying about his sister.", one of them said.
The others shorted.
"Do you think they are scared for their sons?", Rafa asked.
"Who?", Davide countered.
"Our boss"
"Why would they be scared of anyone?"
"Because l don't see another reason for them to do kidnap Luciano Rossetti's sister, if not for the fear of crown."
"But–", Davide started, but paused as soon as his phone started ringing& filled the silence around them as they saw who was calling, the screen lit up, "Boss" , it read. Davide picked it up, and brought it to his ear.
"It is not your job to worry about my intentions or my doings.",said a deep heavy voice, the king which leaves no room for arguments.
"No sir we were just–", Davide started, but the voice cut in.
"You don't talk until l say so."
"Yes sir"
"Is the girl still unconscious?"
"Yes sir! , she'll wake up soon we gave her just a mild sedative."
"Good!& Once she wakes, you know what to do."
"Yes sir, l do!",he smirked looking at the other three, and their lips curved into a sinster smile, immediately understanding what the call was about. The call ended, Rafa looked at Maria, stood up, walked towards her, touch her face with the top of his finger, she flinched at his unknown touch, slowly coming back to consciousness.
"Wake up soon, you scared little cat, we'll all have fun together."
As if on the verge her eyes opened...
____________X______________
Maria's POV–
My head throbbed. A dull ache pulsed behind my eyes like someone had turned the world down to hard and forgotten to fix it. The air smelled wrong– not like home, not like Mama's cooking or Luciano's cologne. It smelled cold. Metallic. Empty.
I tried to move.
My wrists didn't follow.
Panic bloomed in my chest sharp and sudden.
Rope.
My fingers brushed against rough fibers tight against my skin. Painful, firm ,unyielding. My hearts started racing every beat loud in my ears.
Where am I?
Memory is rushed into me like waves crashing against me– Rose laughing, me saying good bye, hands grabbing me, my art piece flying away from me, shoving me into a car, me calling for Luciano and my eyes snapped open. A man stood in front of me. He was huge, broad shoulders stretched his jacket, thick arms marred with faded tattoos that looked more warnings than art. His neck was heavy, his jaw square. I met his eyes. They were dark, cold, empty in a way that made my stomach twist. And his finger was on my face. I flinched back, as far as I could while being bound to the chair. The ropes reminding me how trapped I was. His voice, deep, calm, final, "Don't move", the man in front of me said. Three more came to stand beside him. One was lean, sharp, a small scar cutting through his eyebrow, his gaze restless and impatient. Another stood taller, quieter, his hood pulled low, watching me without saying a word. The last one was shorter and broader, his rough beard framing his eyes.
They don't look surprised to see me awake. They looked prepared.
I shrunk back, my shoulders pressing into the chair.
I looked around, the room was dim, lit by a single flickering bulb above me. The walls were bare, concrete strained with age. No windows, no warmth. My chest tightened, my breaths came shorter. The room felt smaller than before.
"Oh, is the brother's little princess scared?" The leaner one said, amused.
The one in front of me snorted. My heart pounded. I felt small in front of them.
"Now that you're awake,we shall begin following our boss's order, shall we Rafa?"
Rafa, this huge man whose name was Rafa, didn't reply. He lifted his hand to touch my face. I tried to shrink back again, but his hand grabbed my hair and pulled on it, hard...
I screamed and felt pinpricks on my scalp. He brought his face closer to mine. I could feel his breath on my face. My eyes clenched shut.
" We're going to have fun with you, piccola." Piccola, that's what Luciano calls me. That's what he called me in the car, this morning. Rafa's hand tightened even more in my hair. I screamed again, which turned in to a sob. "Please..." I whispered.
My voice barely there. I tried to move, but the hold was unyielding.
They all chuckled.
My chest heaved as I tried to breathe through the pain, tears slipping down my cheeks. But worse than that, worse than the pain, was the fear.
They weren't there to listen.
They were there to control.
Luciano...
I didn't know where I was.
I didn't know who they were.
But I knew one thing with my whole heart. My brother would come for me.
And until he did,
I had to survive.
______________X____________
Luciano's POV-
The street outside Rose’s house was too quiet.
No laughter.
No music.
No trace of Maria’s presence.
Just the soft hum of distant traffic and the flicker of a broken streetlight.
I stood in the middle of the road, hands in my coat pockets, eyes scanning every shadow.
“She left around sunset,” Rose said again, her voice trembling. “She said she’d be home soon.”
Maria never lied.
She never vanished.
Something cold settled in my chest.
We walked the length of the street slowly, eyes sharp, searching for anything out of place– a scuff mark, a broken strap, a dropped phone.
That’s when I felt it.
A strange pull.
Not a sound.
Not a voice.
Just… unease.
Like the air itself was whispering her name.
Luciano…
I turned toward the alley beside Rose’s house.
My pulse spiked.
“Over there,” I muttered.
Luca followed without question.
The alley was narrow, the ground damp, shadows stretching like fingers across the concrete. My eyes caught something pale near the wall.
Paper.
I crouched and picked it up.
My breath stopped.
Maria’s sketchbook.
The soft leather cover was scuffed. One corner bent. A faint smear of dirt streaked across the front like it had been dragged across the ground.
My hands tightened around it.
“She had this with her,” Rose whispered behind me. “She never goes anywhere without it…”
I flipped it open.
Her drawings stared back at me.
Soft pencil lines.
Flowers.
Faces.
Light and warmth captured in charcoal and graphite.
Then I saw it.
The last page.
A half-finished sketch that looked like a mural, a good holding a lantern.
My chest burned.
“She was here,” I said quietly.
The street felt wrong now.
Like something had been stolen from it.
I closed the sketchbook carefully, pressing it to my chest.
“Maria doesn’t drop this,” I said.
Rose covered her mouth, tears spilling over.
My gaze lifted to the dark end of the street.
And for a split second, I could swear I heard her.
Not with my ears –
With my heart.
Luciano…
My grip tightened.
“I’m coming,” I whispered into the night. “Just hold on."
___________________________
"Luciano!",Luca called.
"What happened?", l asked, "Did they find something?"
He shook his head.
"Enzo is on his way , says he wants to meet us, it's urgent."
Enzo, our right hand man and a deadly assasin. He can kill a man on ground from the rooftop of a twenty-story building. He taught Luca about snipers, but I stuck to my pistol and other weapons. I sent him to our boss's headquarters to tell them about the situation and ask for more men. I had around twenty people with me, all trusted, all who had debt to pay me, but I needed more. With all the information I have of the kidnappers until now, they're not going to be enough. "Okay" , I told Luca, "Call him here".
He nodded.
And turned away to call him.
And I turned to Rose, who still stood there with tears in her eyes, wringing her hands like she was trying to keep herself from falling apart.
"Go home, Rose".
"But–" she started.
I cut her off.
"No, you can't stay here. It's too dangerous."
"But I want to help."
"You have, you've done enough. I'll take care of it."
"Find her Luciano, please."
" I promise I will bambina, I'll bring her home."
She hugged me quickly and walked away.
I heard her car engine and turned around to find Enzo stepping out of his car.
"Sir...", he jogged towards us and came to a stop in front of me.
He rarely looked uncertain, but tonight something was off.
My thumb grazed the worn edge of his sketchbook's cover.
"Talk."
He hesitated. Just for a second.
"I went to his boss's office to tell him what happened", Enzo continued lowering his voice.
I met his eyes,"And?"
Enzo exhaled through his nose.
"He's refusing to help".
The words hit harder than I expected. Refusing.
"Say that again", I said calmly.
"Our boss", Enzo clarified. "He doesn't want to get involved. Says the situation is complicated, too risky."
My grip tightened around the sketchbook.
Paolo Cassano, whom I've worked for my entire life, whom my father worked for, whom he died for, we made his empire grow from our flesh, blood, and tears.
And he just denied.
"They took my Maria", Luca said slowly. "There's nothing complicated about that." Enzo nodded. "I know, but he doesn't want to move before. Without proof of who's behind it. No war without a name".
A bitter laugh escaped my Luca's throat. "So we wait?"
"No". I said firmly, "we work around him." The silence between us was thick.
"I'll handle the streets." Enzo added. "Old favors, quiet questions. Someone always knows something."
I nodded once.
"Good" l said. "I'm not waiting until l find her."
_____________X_____________
Author's POV-
The church doors creaked as Elena pushed them open.
The place was empty.
No hymns.
No whispers.
Only silence and candlelight.
Golden beams filtered through stained glass windows, painting the stone floor in muted colors – reds, blues, and soft golds that felt too calm for the storm raging inside her chest.
Elena stepped inside slowly, her black shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her hands trembled as she crossed herself, fingers brushing her forehead, her heart, her shoulders – a habit carved into her by years of prayer and loss.
Her face was pale.
Her eyes were swollen from crying.
But her spine stayed straight.
A mother’s strength never left her – even when her soul was breaking.
She walked down the aisle alone, each step echoing louder than it should have. At the front, before the tall wooden cross, her knees finally gave way.
She fell.
The stone floor was cold, unforgiving beneath her, but she didn’t care.
“Maria…” she whispered.
Her voice cracked.
“Maria, my child…”
Her hands clasped together tightly, knuckles white, as if she could physically hold her daughter through prayer alone.
“Please, Dio mio… please keep her safe,” Elena begged, tears slipping down her cheeks.
“She is innocent. She is kind. She has done nothing to deserve this.”
Her shoulders shook as she bowed her head.
“Give me pain instead. Give me fear. Just bring her home to me.”
The church remained silent.
No answers.
No signs.
Only a mother on her knees, whispering her daughter’s name like a sacred chant.
“Maria… Maria… Maria…”
Each word was a plea.
Each breath a prayer.
And in that empty church, Elena poured every ounce of her heart into the hope that somewhere, somehow, God was listening.
___________X_______________
Elena's POV -
My hands trembled as I pressed them against my face.
I couldn’t stop the sob that tore out of my chest.
The church was empty, but my heart was loud – too loud. Every breath hurt. Every thought burned.
“Maria…” I whispered into my palms, my voice breaking apart. “My little girl…”
Tears soaked my fingers as I bowed my head. I felt small. Helpless. Like the world had taken something precious from me and left me with nothing but silence.
I had already lost my husband.
I would not lose my daughter too.
Slowly, I drew in a shaky breath.
Then another.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, forcing my shoulders to straighten. My eyes were still wet, my chest still aching – but something inside me shifted.
Grief turned into resolve.
I rose from the cold stone floor, my knees protesting, my heart steadying with every step. The cross above me didn’t look distant anymore. It looked like a reminder.
Faith is not just prayer.
It is action.
“Watch over her,” I murmured softly. “I will do the rest.”
I crossed myself one last time, then turned toward the doors.
To someone I hadn’t seen in years.
Someone I swore I would never need again.
But mothers don’t care about pride.
They care about survival.
The doors creaked open as I stepped back into the night, my black shawl fluttering slightly in the wind.
My tears were gone.
My purpose was not.
And for my daughter,
I was ready to face my past.
I was ready to step back into the world l never thought l will need again.
____________X______________
Luciano's POV-
The warehouse was silent except for the low hum of the generator. Shadows stretched across the concrete walls, sharp and restless. Enzo stood across from me, arms crossed, jaw tight. Luca leaned against a table, watching me carefully.
I placed Maria’s sketchbook down between us.
"He has refused to help," Enzo said. 'Three times now."
"He hiding something," Luca added. "Or someone."
I didn’t respond immediately. My eyes stayed on the sketchbook – the bent corner, the smudge of dirt, the soft pencil lines that had once held my sister’s light.
"He wants us to stay quiet," I said finally.
"He wants us to wait."
"He knows l'm coming for him and he's still waiting in that office, he didn't run away."
My voice was calm. Too calm.
Enzo shifted his weight. "And what do you want to do, boss?"
I lifted my gaze.
"I want them to feel what it’s like to lose control. If he wants to die tonight, l will be fulfilling his wish, but not without stripping him off control"
Luca’s expression sharpened. "You’re talking about pressure."
"I’m talking about fire," I replied.
The room went still.
Enzo stared at me for a second, then asked, "How many?"
"Three," I said. "His supply warehouse.
His office.
His storage yard.”
Luca let out a slow breath. "That’s a statement."
"Good."
Enzo stepped closer. "If we move like this, they’ll know it’s personal."
"It is personal."
"What if they retaliate?"Luca asked.
I clenched my jaw. "They already did."
Silence followed.
Enzo finally nodded. "You want a message sent?"
"Yes."
“What kind?”
I stayed silent and they knew better than to ask.
Enzo exhaled slowly. "When?"
"Tonight."
He nodded once. "Then we move."
We turned to leave.
The generator hummed louder.
And somewhere in the city, three buildings were about to become ash –
not for power,
not for territory,
but for a promise.
___________________________
I moved forward, Enzo and Luca flanking me, when my phone rang suddenly.
Mama, it said.
I picked up on the second ring.
"Luciano...", her voice was low, as if she was holding a storm inside her. "Come home", she continued ,"We need to talk."
"I'm on my way."
The call ended.
I stood there for a second, staring at the dark screen.
Mama didn't ask me to come home this time.
She commanded it.
"No one moves until I come back", I said to Enzo and Luca, sat in the car, and drove home.
___________________________
The house was silent when I walked in.
Too silent.
She stood in the middle of the living room, her back to me, black shawl draped over her shoulders like the armor she no longer believed in. Her hands were clasped in front of her.
"Mama," I said softly.
She didn't turn around.
"You need to step away from Mafia," she said.
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
I frowned slightly. "This isn't the time–"
"This is exactly the time," she cut in, finally turning to face me.
Her eyes were red, but dry now. The tears had already fallen. What remained was something sharper.
"Maria is missing because of you."
The words struck harder than any fist ever could.
"That's not true," I said, my jaw tightening. "Whoever did this didn't take her because of me."
"They did," she replied immediately. "You're rising too fast, Luciano. People fear you. They fear what you are becoming."
I took a step closer. "They took her because they're cowards. Because they think hurting my family will stop me."
"And they were right," she whispered."Leave it, Luciano. Choose your sister over this life." My chest tightened, but my voice stayed steady.
"I am choosing to protect her."
Her voice broke. "Protect her? You're leaving her to die, Luciano. You just have to step back, and they'll leave her."
She started crying again. "Save her figlio mio. Save your sister, please."
"I will not step back, Mama." I said quietly.
She fell to her knees, palms on the floor to balance herself, chest heaving, sobbing.
I wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but I couldn't move. I was frozen because I knew if I agreed to step back, none of us will be left alive.
Because I knew words in this world are not always true.
But Mama didn't.
"I thought you loved her."
I didn't move.
"When did you become so selfish, my boy?"
My fist clenched at my sides.
"If I knew that all you ever wanted was power, then I would've...", she paused, her my eyes hardened, "then I would have never given birth to you.
"I wish you were never born."
The room went still. Every word cut deeper than the last, but I didn't flinch. I didn't speak. I let the silence take the weight of what she had said. Her face crumpled again, the strength draining out of her like a broken dam.
"Please...", she sobbed. "Please, Luciano, leave this life. Walk away. Save your sister. I can't lose her too. Do this for me." She begged, "for her."
"I won't." I repeated.
"You're choose power over blood?"
I stayed silent.
"I will bring her home", I said, my voice low and unshakable. "And when I do, no one will ever touch my family again."
She covered her mouth, her body shaking with silent sobs.
I turned away before she could see the storm in my eyes.
In this world, love doesn't save you.
Power does.
And l was done losing.
___________________________
The city look to come from outside.
Street lights glowing.
Cars passing.
People laughing in cafes.
But on the need at all the wall had already begun.
I was 15 when papa taught me-
"If you ever need your enemy secret out don't hurt the man– hurt what he is protecting."
So l stood in front of one of the three buildings l've selected to burn.
All three important.
All three protected.
The glow of neon lights reflecting in the puddles on the pavement. A front for their operations. Gambling upstairs. Weapons storage in the back. Laundered money running through its walls like blood in veins.
Enzo stood beside me, hands tucked into his coat, eyes sharp.
“He still thinks you’ll back down,” he said.
I let out a slow breath. “Then he doesn't know me.”
He glanced at my knuckles –still bruised, the skin cracked where bone had met bone days ago.
“You sure about this?” he asked. “Burning three of his properties in one night… that’s a declaration of war.”
I looked at the building.
“No,” I said. “It’s a reminder.”
I pulled the lighter from my pocket, its metallic click loud in the quiet street.
“They took my sister.”
Enzo nodded once. “Let’s make them remember who they touched.”
Building One
We moved fast.
The back door was already unlocked – one of our men had handled that earlier. The inside smelled of cheap liquor and smoke. Empty at this hour. Just how I wanted it.
Gasoline soaked the floors, the curtains, the walls.
I struck the lighter.
The flame danced.
“Do it,” Enzo said.
I dropped it.
Fire swallowed the room in seconds.
The heat rushed up my face, the sound of burning wood and cracking glass filling the air.
As we walked out, the building roared behind us, orange flames licking the sky.
“One,” Enzo muttered.
Building Two
This one was quieter. Office-style. Paperwork, records, routes, names.
Their mistakes.
I slammed a metal canister onto the desk.
“You think he is watching?” Enzo asked.
“I hope he is.”
"Send a message?"
I wrote the message on the blood with the blood of the same guard who tried to stop me-
"I'm coming for my sister and when l do, your blood will paint the streets."
I lit the trail of fuel and watched it crawl across the floor like a living thing.
Flames climbed the walls.
Their secrets burned.
“Two,” Enzo said.
We stood across the street, watching smoke rise into the night.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
“He'll respond,” Enzo said.
“I’m counting on it.”
I stared at the burning skyline.
My promise to protect Maria, burning in my chest.
___________X_______________
Author's POV-
Paolo was halfway through his drink when the first call came.
He ignored it.
Business meetings bored him. His men handled problems so he didn’t have to.
Then the second call rang.
He frowned.
By the third, he set the glass down slowly.
“What?” he snapped into the phone.
The voice on the other end was breathless. Panicked.
“Boss- two of our buildings are burning. The warehouse on Via Nero and the office block near the docks."
Paolo straightened in his chair.
“Both of them?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. And–there’s a message.”
Paolo’s jaw tightened. “What message?”
There was a pause.
"Written with blood on the wall of the office of storage yard."
Paolo closed his eyes for a second.
He already knew what it would say.
“Read it.”
The man swallowed.
"I'm coming for my sister and when l do, your blood will paint the streets.”
Silence filled the room.
Paolo slowly stood up, walking to the window. Smoke rose faintly in the distance, staining the night sky with orange and black.
“So,” he murmured, “Luciano Rossetti has decided to bark.”
He turned back to his table, the man on call had gone quiet.
“He burned two of my most protected buildings,” Paolo continued calmly. “Do you know what that means?”
He didn't speak.
“It means he’s desperate,” Paolo said. “And desperate men make mistakes.”
He picked up his phone and dialed another number.
“Keep the girl alive,” he said when the line connected. “But remind her who owns her now.”
He ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket.
“Luciano thinks fire scares me,” Paolo said, a slow, dangerous smile forming. “Let him learn what real fear feels like.”
____________X______________
Maria's POV-
I sat bound to the chair, with my wrists bleeding out because of the tight,rough ropes, and a busted lip after the man named Davide slapped me hard.
They left me alone a while ago, and I didn't know how much time had passed.
All I knew was fear and pain.
I heard a phone ringing. They picked it up, and after talking for a quick few minutes, they came back and stood around my chair again.
My breath turned shallow.
Rafa grabbed my hair again.
"Please..." my voice cracked. "I didn't do anything."
He tilted his head, studying me.
"Wrong," he said. "You're Luciano Rossetti's sister."
"What do you want from me?" I whimpered.
"My boss isn't happy," he said calmly.
My breath hitched.
"He says your brother is getting...bold. I guess we'll have to send him another message." And for that, we'll have to make you ready."
His lips curved sinfully.
He banged my head against the wall
Once...
Twice...
Thrice...
Not enough to make me unconscious, just enough to make my head fall forward and my eyes to close. Blood started oozing out of the wound, warm and fast. Someone punched me in the gut, and I spat out blood. I tried to scream for help, but it turned into a sob.
They all chuckled at me.
"Don't cry, baby. It's just a little blood."
I opened my eyes a crack.
Rafa wrapped his hand around my throat and started squeezing. My fists clenched, and I arched my back, trying to get away from his grip. I tried to suck in a breath, but he's restricting my air. My throat kicked the concrete. My face throbbed like a drum. Tears filled my eyes, making his figure blurry. "Click a bloody picture of her".
I heard someone say from my side, but it feels like hearing it away from miles.
Dots take over my vision, my chest heaves for a breath of air. As my body starts to give up, my fists unclench, and my eyes grow heavy. Just when I thought I'm about to die, he removes his hand.
I start coughing, spit and blood flying out of my mouth. I try to stay awake, but my eyes close and my body slumps.
My last thought before darkness took over was of Luciano.
Luciano... find me soon, l begged silently.
Because I don't think I'll survive for long.
____________X______________
Author's POV-
Maria's body was limp in the chair, blood covering her entire body. Not dead, just unconscious.
"You clicked the photo?" Rafa asked Davide, wiping his hands on the dark jeans.
"Yes, I did. Just sending it to Luciano. Here, I did it."
"For a moment, I thought you were actually going to kill her."
"Not yet, boss told us to wait."
As if on cue, Davide's phone rang.
It was their boss.
He picked it up on the first ring.
"Did you send the photo?", came Paolo Cassano's deep, heavy voice through the speaker.
"Yes, boss, a picture good enough to make his blood boil."
" Good!"
He ended the call.
Only if he knew he committed the biggest mistake of his life.
_____________X_____________
Luciano's POV-
The phone vibrated on the table.
Once.
Twice.
I stared at it for a second too long.
Enzo was mid-sentence, talking about patrol routes and new guards, but his voice faded into background noise the moment I saw the unknown number on the screen.
My chest tightened.
I picked it up.
A message.
No words.
Just an image.
My breath stopped.
Maria.
Tied to a chair.
Her wrists bound tight with rope, bleeding.
Her shoulders shaking.
Tears and blood streaking her face.
Her eyes were red with blood or fear that l didn't know - the same eyes that used to light up when she showed me her sketches, the same eyes that followed me around the house like I was her whole world.
She was covered in blood, so much blood that it made mine run cold.
A hand was wrapped around her throat, choking her, her fists clenched.
My little sister.
In pain.
Because of me.
My knuckles clenched so hard the old wounds split open again. I didn’t even feel it. All I could feel was the rage burning through my chest, hot and uncontrollable.
Enzo noticed the change immediately.
“Boss?” he asked carefully.
I turned the phone toward him.
He swore under his breath.
“He is pushing you,” he said. “Hard.”
“He thinks they can use her to control me,” I replied, my voice low and dangerous. “He think I’ll break.”
I stared at Maria’s face again.
Her lips parted open trying to breath through that bastard's hand around her throat.
Her shoulders were rigid.
She looked smaller than she ever had.
A kid.
My kid.
"Paolo. This is Paolo's doing, he did this in rage because l burned his buildings."
That's all l needed to know.
Enzo hesitated. “What’s the move?”
I stood up slowly.
“No more warnings,” I said. “No more fires. No more messages.”
I picked up my jacket, slipping it on like armor.
“We find them,” I continued. “And we take her back.”
Enzo nodded once. “And Paolo?”
I looked at the photo one last time before locking my phone.
“My sister comes home alive ,” I said. “Else l don't care what l need to do.”
As we walked out into the night, one thought burned in my mind louder than gunfire:
Maria, hold on.
Your brother is coming.
___________________________
I walked the same dark corridor I've walked a million times before.
The building was empty except the two guards standing in front of his office door.
Paolo Casano was almost my father's age. I've seen him since my childhood. He was like a second father to me. He supported me, gave me the opportunity to join his empire despite me being so young, after my father died.
I never imagined he could do this to me.
To Maria.
The question was why, and I was here to find an answer to that.
I pushed open the black door to his office, like I've done a million times to help him, but this time it was different.
Because today, I'm not here to help, but to kill.
Enzo was with me, and Luca was trying to track those kidnappers with the help of that photo they sent me. Photo that made my blood run cold.
Paolo’s office was exactly how I remembered it.
Dark wood. Heavy curtains. The kind of silence that felt expensive and dangerous at the same time.
The two guards stood by the door, neither of them stopped me. They knew better.
Paolo sat behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his expression calm – almost bored.
“So,” he said, leaning back. “The prodigal lion finally comes to roar.”
I didn’t sit.
“Where is my sister?” I demanded.
Paolo smiled faintly. “Straight to business. Just like your father.”
My jaw tightened.
“You took Maria,” I said. “Not because of money. Not because of territory. Because of me.”
His eyes darkened slightly.
“You’re growing too fast, Luciano,” Paolo replied. “Too powerful. Too visible.”
I slammed my hands onto his desk, the glass rattling.
“She’s innocent!”
“Innocence doesn’t matter in our world,” he said coldly. “Power does.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.
“You know,” Paolo continued, standing now, “your father was the same.”
My chest tightened.
“Don’t talk about my Papa” I warned.
But Paolo only smiled.
“Vittorio Rossetti had potential,” he said. “Real potential. Enough to rise higher than me.”
My fists clenched.
“So I kept him close,” Paolo went on. “Under my shadow. Under my control. Not because he was weak –because he was dangerous.”
“You used him,” I snapped.
“I managed him,” Paolo corrected. “Just like I tried to manage you.”
“And when you couldn’t?” I asked.
His eyes hardened.
“I reminded you who holds the leash.”
Before I could think, my fist connected with his jaw.
The impact echoed through the room.
His guards moved instantly, but Enzo wasn't slow either he shot the guards in their faces the moment they moved. Just one bullet each. Straight into the forehead.
I grab Paolo from his chair and shove him face-first onto the table. The glass shatters under his weight, and I keep a foot on his back, pressing hard, and crouch down. I grab his hair and pull, his spits out blood,but doesn't fight back, and I ask him with gritted teeth,
"Where is my sister?"
He whispers a location.
"Go find your sister, Luciano. I gave you the location. But dead or alive, that part isn't guaranteed."
He still has the nerves to chuckle.
"Who else is there with you in this?"
"Do you really think I'm going to tell you that?"
" I'll kill you if you won't tell me."
"You'll kill me either way. Why do you think I waited here instead of running away?"
I take out my pistol from the holster under my shirt and press against the back of his head, still holding his hair.
"Kill me today, Luciano, because your decision will not keep your alive for long."
He looked me straight in the eye.
"This is far from over."
I pressed the gun harder and pulled the trigger, spilling the chunks of brain of the same man who l once considered my godfather.
The same man who turned against me.
But I didn't feel sorrow.
I stood up.
I felt invincible.
After hours of blindly searching, I finally had a spark of light. I held on to it with all my strength.
Preparing to bring my sister from hell and back.
Praying that whatever is to come, her will keep me alive.
___________________________
We walked towards my car to go to location Paolo whispered, it was some warehouse l've never heard of.
Enzo was with the other men shifting Paolo's body to a car's trunk and sending it away to our warehouse.
Luca ensured the entire building was covered in crude oil.
He jogged to come and stand beside me.
He handed me the lighter.
I looked at the building, the same building my father brought me to train, where l learned to fight, where l first sat in a meeting.
The building which almost like a second home to me.
I clicked open the lighter push down the button to light it.
I dropped the lighter, turned around and didn't look back.
The smell of smoke and oil.
The sound glass shattering, followed me but l didn't look back.
I heard Enzo say "Three",from behind me and l still didn't
turn back.
___________________________
The warehouse loomed ahead of us like a concrete grave.
No lights.
No noise.
Just shadows stacked on shadows.
The air smelled like rust, and oil.
Blood stained my shirt – not mine, not all of it. My knuckles were split open, my ribs screamed every time I breathed, and my jaw ached from the last hit I’d taken. But none of it mattered.
Not when Maria was inside.
Twenty men walked behind me.
Silent. Armed. Focused.
Their boots moved in perfect rhythm, the sound low and controlled, like a storm holding its breath. No one spoke. No one needed to.
My pistol felt heavy in my hand, cold and steady – the only thing in this world that wasn’t shaking.
I pushed the metal door open.
It creaked.
The sound echoed through the empty space like a warning.
Inside, the warehouse was massive and hollow, broken crates scattered across the floor, old chains hanging from the ceiling like forgotten threats. My men spread out instinctively, covering angles, watching corners, scanning shadows.
We moved forward.
Slow.
Controlled.
Relentless.
My vision narrowed, the world shrinking to the path in front of me.
Every breath burned.
Every step hurt.
But my grip never loosened.
A cracked mirror flashed my reflection back at me.
Blood on my knuckles.
Dirt on my face.
Eyes dark – not angry.
Empty.
The kind of emptiness that only comes when a man has already decided what he’s willing to lose.
My jaw was tight, teeth clenched so hard my head throbbed. The muscles in my neck were rigid, veins standing out like scars. My shoulders were squared, steady – not rushed, not reckless.
Behind me, my men waited for my signal.
I lifted my hand.
They froze.
The silence pressed against my ears.
No footsteps.
No voices.
Just the low hum of distant machinery and my own heartbeat – slow
, controlled, dangerous.
At the far end of the warehouse stood the final door.
Steel.
Scratched.
Locked.
I raised the pistol, my finger resting on the trigger.
Maria.
Her name burned in my chest like fire.
I took one steady breath.
Then I reached for the handle and pushed
the door open.
And what he'll find inside will change his life for forever.
______________X____________
The Italian words used-
Dio Mio- my god
Figlio mio- my son
Piccola and Bambina- little girl with affection
Okay guys this is it for this chapter. So sorry to keep you waiting for so long. I'll try to upload the next chapter soon.
Do share your reviews about the chapter. What do you think will happen now?? Is Maria dead or alive?? Who was Paolo's partner?? Whom did Elena meet??
Stay tuned for more .
Bye.
Take care!✨✨❤️❤️
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