Aria's POV
"We have to get him back." I turn to Matteo, who's running into the church with his men. "Now. Before she—"
"Before she what?" Matteo's face is grim. "Tortures him? Kills him? Aria, we don't even know where she took him."
"Then we find out!" I'm screaming now, panic clawing up my throat. "We can't just leave him!"
"I'm not suggesting we leave him. I'm saying we need a plan." Matteo grabs my shoulders, forces me to look at him. "Sofia wants the Constantino empire. That means she needs Dante alive long enough to extract information. We have time."
"Twelve hours—"
"Is longer than you think. Now breathe. Focus. What do we know?"
I force myself to think past the terror. "Sofia works for the Syndicate. She has resources, safe houses, connections."
"The Syndicate operates in five cities," Matteo adds. "New York, Chicago, Miami, Vegas, LA. If she's smart, she's moved him out of the city already."
"She's very smart." I untie Marco, who's still slumped against the pillar. "Uncle Marco—where would she take him?"
Marco looks up at me, eyes full of pain and regret. "I don't know anymore. Sofia and I... we haven't worked together in years. She went rogue, climbed the Syndicate ranks without me."
"Useful," Matteo mutters.
"Wait." Marco struggles to his feet. "There's one person who might know. Someone who's been feeding Sofia information from inside the Syndicate."
"Who?" I demand.
Before Marco can answer, the church doors burst open.
A woman strides in, and I recognize her immediately from the photos in Dante's files.
Isabela Ricci.
She's beautiful in a dangerous way—designer dress, perfect makeup, diamonds glittering at her throat. But her eyes are pure ice.
"Well, well." She looks between me, Matteo, and Marco. "Quite the pathetic gathering."
"Isabela." Matteo steps forward. "This isn't the time—"
"Oh, I think it's the PERFECT time." Her smile is sharp as a knife. "I heard Dante Constantino has been captured. What a tragedy."
"If you're here to gloat—" I start.
"Gloat?" She laughs. "Darling, I'm here to negotiate."
That stops me cold. "What?"
Isabela walks closer, heels clicking on the stone floor. "Sofia Moretti contacted me three hours ago. Offered me a deal—help her break Dante, and she'll give me control of the Constantino territories."
My hands clench into fists. "And you're considering it."
"I WAS considering it." She stops in front of me, studying me with those cold eyes. "Until I realized Sofia has no intention of keeping her word. She'll use me, then kill me, just like she's planning to kill all of you."
"So what do you want?" Matteo asks suspiciously.
"To make a counter-offer." Isabela turns to him. "I know where Sofia is holding Dante. I have cameras, informants, resources you don't. I can get you inside."
"In exchange for what?" I ask.
"In exchange for Dante owing me. A life debt. When this is over, he works with my family. Helps us expand. Shares his contacts and resources." She smiles. "Business, not marriage. I've moved past wanting him in my bed."
"You're lying," I say flatly.
"About which part?" She tilts her head. "Not wanting him? Oh, darling, I assure you that ship has sailed. Dante made it very clear he has... other interests now." Her eyes rake over me. "Questionable taste, but that's his problem."
Heat floods my face.
"But yes," Isabela continues, "I do want a business alliance. The Ricci family has been weakened by internal fighting. An alliance with the Constantinos would strengthen us. And I'm practical enough to save Dante's life to get it."
Matteo and I exchange glances.
"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Matteo asks. "That you actually know where he is?"
Isabela pulls out her phone, shows us a video feed.
My heart stops.
It's Dante. Chained to a chair in a dark room. Blood dripping from his face. Two men standing guard.
"This is live," Isabela says quietly. "Streaming from Sofia's facility in the Bronx. An old meatpacking plant she's been using as a base."
"Why help him?" I can't keep the suspicion from my voice. "You hate him."
"I don't hate him. I hate that he chose his vendetta over our future." Isabela's mask slips for just a second, showing something almost human underneath. "But hate isn't profitable. And letting Sofia Moretti take control of the city? That's bad for everyone's business."
She has a point.
"What's the catch?" I ask.
"No catch. Well, one small condition." Isabela's smile returns. "I go with you. I want to see Sofia's face when her plan falls apart."
"Absolutely not," Matteo says immediately.
"Then Dante dies." Isabela shrugs. "Your choice. But decide fast. Sofia's patience is limited, and your boyfriend is bleeding rather heavily."
I want to argue. Want to find another way. But the clock is ticking and Dante is suffering.
"Fine," I say. "You can come."
"Aria—" Matteo protests.
"We don't have time to argue! If she knows where he is, we use her." I turn to Isabela. "But if this is a trap, I will kill you myself."
"Noted." Isabela doesn't look worried. "Now, shall we plan a rescue? I do love a good heist."
Twenty minutes later, we're in Matteo's car, racing toward the Bronx. Isabela's in the passenger seat, Marco and I in the back. Matteo's called in every available man—fifteen total, including us.
"The building has three entry points," Isabela explains, showing us blueprints on her tablet. "Front entrance, side loading dock, and roof access. Sofia has cameras covering all of them."
"So we'll be seen the moment we approach," Matteo says.
"Unless we disable the cameras first." Isabela smiles. "I have someone on the inside. A tech who owes me favors. He can loop the feeds for exactly seven minutes."
"Seven minutes to get in, find Dante, and get out?" I shake my head. "Impossible."
"Not impossible. Just difficult." Isabela pulls up another image—floor plans. "Dante's being held in the basement. Cold storage room. Two guards outside, possibly more inside."
"How many total hostiles?" Matteo asks.
"Fifteen, maybe twenty. Sofia doesn't trust large groups."
Marco leans forward. "What about Sofia herself? Where is she?"
"Unknown. She comes and goes." Isabela's expression darkens. "But if she's there when we hit the building..."
"We deal with her," I say firmly. "Whatever it takes."
"Spoken like a true mafia wife," Isabela murmurs.
"I'm not—"
"Please. I've seen the way you look at him. The way you panic at the thought of losing him." She glances back at me. "You're in love with Dante Constantino. Congratulations. It's a terrible burden."
I want to deny it. But the words stick in my throat.
Because maybe she's right.
Maybe somewhere between revenge and lies and bullets, I fell for the man I came to destroy.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown number. But I know who it is.
Sofia's message: The clock's ticking, baby girl. 10 hours left. Where's my empire?
I don't respond.
Another message immediately: Silent treatment? How mature. Maybe this will encourage you to cooperate.
A video downloads.
I press play.
Sofia walks into frame in Dante's cell. She's holding something—pliers.
"No," I breathe.
"Dante Constantino," Sofia says to the camera, to me. "Such a stubborn man. Won't give me his access codes. Won't beg. Won't break." She circles him like a predator. "But everyone breaks eventually."
She grabs his hand.
"Don't—" Dante's voice is hoarse. Weak.
She positions the pliers on his smallest finger.
"Stop the car," I gasp.
"Aria, don't look—" Matteo starts.
Too late.
Sofia pulls.
Dante's scream fills the small space.
I can't breathe. Can't think. Can't—
The video cuts off.
New message: 9 hours, 53 minutes. Next time, it's a bigger finger. Or maybe an eye. Your choice.
I'm going to be sick.
"Drive faster," I tell Matteo. My voice sounds strange. Distant. "We're getting him out. Now."
"Aria—"
"NOW!"
We race through the city. Every second feels like an hour. Every red light feels like torture.
Finally, we reach the industrial area. Abandoned buildings, broken streetlights, perfect place for murder.
The meatpacking plant looms ahead.
"Three minutes until the cameras loop," Isabela says, checking her watch. "Everyone ready?"
Matteo's men check their weapons. Marco loads his gun despite his injuries. I grip my own weapon—the one Dante gave me in the panic room.
"On my mark," Matteo says.
We wait. Hearts pounding. Time crawling.
"Mark."
We move.
Silent and fast, we approach the building. The cameras don't track us—Isabela's tech did his job.
Matteo's team takes the front. Marco and four men take the loading dock. Isabela, me, and three others head for the roof access.
"This is insane," one of Isabela's guards mutters as we climb the fire escape.
"Welcome to my life," I mutter back.
We reach the roof. The access door is locked, but Isabela pulls out tools and picks it in thirty seconds.
"Misspent youth," she says at my surprised look.
We descend into darkness. Stairs leading down. Down. Down to the basement.
Where Dante is being tortured.
We reach the hallway. Two guards outside the cold storage door, just like Isabela said.
I raise my gun. So does Isabela.
We fire simultaneously.
Both guards drop.
"Not bad," Isabela whispers.
We drag the bodies aside, approach the door.
My hand shakes on the handle.
Dante's in there. Hurt. Broken. Because of me.
"Ready?" Isabela asks.
No. But I nod anyway.
She kicks the door open.
We rush in, guns raised—
The room is empty.
No Dante. No Sofia. No one.
Just a phone on the floor, playing a looped video feed.
"No." My legs give out. "No, no, NO—"
The phone rings.
I answer with shaking hands.
Sofia's laugh fills the air.
"Did you really think I'd make it that easy? Oh, Aria. You're so predictable." Her voice hardens. "I have Dante. I have his codes. I have everything. And you? You have nothing."
"Where is he?!"
"Closer than you think." She pauses. "Check the morgue drawer. Number seven. I left you a present."
The line goes dead.
Isabela and I exchange horrified looks.
We run to the morgue area—this WAS a meatpacking plant, after all.
Drawer number seven.
My hands shake as I pull it open.
Inside
is a severed finger.
Dante's ring still attached.
And a note: 9 hours left. Stop playing games, or I'll send you the rest of him in pieces.