Luca stood in the abandoned administrative room, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. The security footage flickered across Gia's laptop screen—grainy, but it was clear enough. A woman in scrubs, surgical mask concealing her face, moving through the NICU corridors with unsettling confidence. She knew exactly where to go. Exactly which incubator, and exactly how to bypass every protocol.
This wasn't random. This was orchestrated.
"Play it again," Luca said, his voice flat and cold.
Gia's fingers moved across the keyboard without hesitation. She'd stopped asking questions an hour ago, stopped offering comfort. Her brother's rage was already a living thing in the room, coiled and deadly, and she knew better than to add to it.
The footage replayed. The woman approached the particular incubator, checked the monitors with practiced ease, disconnected the wires methodically. Then she lifted the tiny bundle—Luca's daughter, his newborn child,and walked out as calmly as if she owned the place.
"There," Luca said suddenly, pointing at the screen. "Her left hand. Zoom it in."
Gia isolated the frame, enlarged it. The woman's hand showed a distinct tan line on her ring finger. Recently removed wedding band.
"Professional," Gia muttered. "Military posture. Look at how she carries herself distributing her weight evenly, shoulders back. She's well trained."
Luca's phone buzzed on the table. Marco's name lit up the screen.
He'd been ignoring Marco's calls since Sienna went into labor, too consumed with the miracle of becoming a father to waste energy on old enemies. Now the timing made sickening sense. Marco had been waiting for this exact moment—when Luca would be at his most vulnerable, his most distracted.
"Don't answer it," Gia warned, but her hand didn't move to stop him.
Luca swiped to accept, putting the call on speaker. His voice came out deadly calm. "Where is she?"
"Luca." Marco's tone was mockingly sympathetic, almost cheerful. "Congratulations on OUR baby. A girl, I heard. Daughters are so precious. So... delicate."
Every muscle in Luca's body went rigid. His hand curled into a fist on the table, knuckles white. "I'll ask you one more time. Where. Is. She."
"Safe. at least for now." Marco let the pause stretch out, savoring it. "You know, I had a lot of time to think while I was locked up. Time to really…really consider what you took from me, *fratello*. My freedom, My reputation, My future in the family."
"You earned that cell yourself."
"Did I?" Marco's laugh was bitter, sharp-edged. "We both know you set me up, you Luca, planted evidence, paid off witnesses. You destroyed me, Luca. And for what? To consolidate your power? To eliminate competition?"
Gia's nails dug into Luca's forearm—a silent warning not to rise to the bait.
"What do you want?" Luca asked through gritted teeth.
"Want?" Marco's voice turned cold. "I don't want anything you can give me. This isn't a negotiation. This is justice. You made me helpless. Powerless. Trapped behind bars while my life fell apart. Now it's your turn to understand what that feels like."
The line went dead.
Luca grabbed his phone and hurled it across the room. It exploded against the wall in a shower of glass and plastic. The violence brought no relief. His daughter was out there, in the hands of enemies, and every second that passed felt like broken glass under his skin.
"He won't hurt her," Gia said quietly. "Not immediately. He wants you to suffer first. That's how Marco operates—psychological torture before the final blow."
Luca knew she was right. Marco was methodical, patient in his cruelty. But that knowledge didn't stop the primal urge to tear the city apart brick by brick, to burn down every building until he found his child.
"I need to tell Sienna."
"Luca—"
"She deserves to know."
Gia's expression softened with sympathy. "She just gave birth. She's been through hell already. If you tell her now, in her condition—"
"If I keep this from her and she finds out later, she'll never forgive me, ever." Luca ran both hands through his hair, the weight of impossible choices pressing down on him. "I won't lie to my wife. Not about this."
Gia studied her brother for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Then we tell her together. And we'd better have a plan ready, because once she knows, nothing will stop her from coming after that baby."
---
They… they took her! they took my child! My baby! My daughter!" she screamed, tears streaming freely, shaking violently. Her sobs were sharp, jagged, a sound that pierced through steel and stone. The wail of a mother whose child had been stolen from her, unfiltered and raw.
Lucas pressed a hand to her back, voice low and calm. "I've got you. I've got you, Sienna."
But it didn't help. Nothing helped. Her tiny daughter had been there just moments ago, alive, warm, safe—and now… nothing. Only empty space, the cruel silence screamed louder than any words.
Sienna pressed herself into him, nails digging into his jacket as though holding on could somehow tether her child back to her. "I can't… I can't… they can't have her!" Her chest heaved violently. "She's mine! She's mine!"
Lucas stayed still, letting her grief burn, letting her scream, letting her collapse and wail. He didn't speak, nor charge into action. He knew the raw, unbearable pain was part of what would fuel her—part of what would make her fight with every fiber of her being.
Finally, with ragged breaths, Sienna's sobs turned to sharp, shaky whispers. "I… I can't… not like this… not without her…" Her body shook uncontrollably. Tears fell freely, mixing with rain that had soaked her hair moments ago during the brief transfer to the ambulance earlier.
Lucas pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "We're going to get her back," he said quietly. "I swear, we will. But you have to breathe first."
Her head fell against his chest, her body trembling in pure anguish, the kind that could break mountains. Her sobs were now quieter but no less devastating, a mother's grief that made the air itself so heavy.
"I… I need to hold her," she whispered, broken, raw. "I can't… I can't lose her… I just can't."
"You won't," Lucas said firmly, finally allowing his hand to guide hers away from her face, lifting her chin so he could meet her eyes. "We must move now, survival first. Then we take her back."
Her body shook violently, but a spark of fury ignited in her tear-streaked eyes. She would not let them win. She would burn the world if it meant getting her daughter back. "Let's go," she whispered. "Lets go get her back "
The rain outside lashed against the hospital windows, echoing the storm inside Sienna's chest. Lucas guided her carefully, one arm around her waist, the other holding her hand. Each step to the ambulance was slow, deliberate—her exhaustion clawing at her—but her heart propelled her forward, after few steps, she'd turn to the hospital.
Across the street, a black van waited under the dim glow of streetlights. Lucas's eyes narrowed. The van wasn't moving yet.
"Stay close," he murmured. "We don't know who's inside. But I promise… I'll get her back."
Sienna's pulse thundered. Every shadow, every puddle, every noise seemed to hold death. Every second without her daughter stretched into eternity.
Suddenly, movement—a figure darted from the shadows. Lucas reacted instantly, raising his gun. Sienna stumbled but didn't fall this time; she clung to him, trembling violently.
"Stay behind me," Lucas barked. "One wrong move—"
The figure paused, hooded, masked, metallic glint catching the streetlight. Sienna's stomach twisted. Her daughter was so close… and yet so far.
Lucas advanced, muscles coiled like springs. "You touch her—"
The figure moved again, melting into the dark. The van's sliding door opened with a metallic whisper. Sienna's vision blurred, panic pushing her heart into overdrive.
Lucas dove toward the side door, almost catching it. Sienna gasped, nearly collapsing again, but he caught her. Her sobs were raw, primal. "My baby… my daughter!"
Gia appeared, gun drawn. "They're armed! Lucas—"
"We split. Cover the van!" he ordered. "Sienna, stay close. Do not fall behind."
Sienna's grip on him was feral, desperate. "I'm not leaving her! I won't!"
"Good," Lucas said grimly. "Then stay alive. When we take her back."
Rain pelted down, soaking their clothes, blinding them. The black van lurched forward, engine roaring. Lucas cursed, as Sienna's sobs mingled with the storm, tears streaming, but now there was anger behind them, a fire that refused to die.
From a rooftop, a shadow dropped in front of them, metallic clang echoing. Lucas fired instinctively. Sienna screamed, instinctively ducking. The figure collapsed—but another emerged, gun trained on the van.
"Move!" Lucas shouted, dragging Sienna behind a dumpster. Bullets raining down.
Sienna pressed herself to him, trembling violently. "I… I can't… I can't lose her!"
"You won't," Lucas growled. "Stay with me!"
The black van's taillights disappeared into the rain-soaked darkness, leaving Luca standing in the middle of the street with his gun still raised. Water streamed down his face, mixing with the rage that threatened to consume him whole.
"Luca!" Gia's voice cut through the storm. She appeared from behind the dumpster, weapon drawn, scanning the street for more threats. "We need to move. Now."
Sienna was on her knees in a puddle, her hospital gown soaked through, her body trembling violently. She'd collapsed the moment the van disappeared, her legs finally giving out after carrying her this far on pure maternal fury.
Luca holstered his weapon and dropped beside her, pulling her against his chest. She was shaking so hard her teeth chattered, and when he pressed his hand to her back, he felt the wet warmth of blood seeping through the thin fabric.
"She's bleeding," Luca said sharply to Gia.
"We need to get her back to the hospital," Gia replied, already pulling out her phone. "I'll bring the car around."
"No." Sienna's voice was raw, barely above a whisper. "No hospital. We follow them. We—"
"You can't even stand," Luca said, his tone harder than he intended. He softened it immediately, pressing his forehead to hers. "Listen to me, *tesoro*. You just gave birth hours ago. Your body is—"
"I don't care about my body!" Sienna's hands fisted in his jacket, her amber eyes wild with desperation. "They have our daughter! They have—" Her voice broke on a sob.
"And we'll get her back," Luca promised, his voice low and fierce. "But not if you die from blood loss in the street. We go back, plan and regroup. We come back at them smart, not desperate."
Sienna stared at him for a long moment, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the rain. Then she sagged against him, the fight draining out of her as reality crashed in. She'd run on instinct, on the primal need to reach her child, but her body was giving out. She couldn't save their daughter if she was dead.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay."
Gia pulled up in a black SUV, engine running. Luca lifted Sienna as gently as he could, but she still gasped in pain as he carried her to the vehicle. He slid into the back seat with her cradled against him, her blood staining his shirt.
"Drive," he ordered.
Gia hit the gas, tires squealing on wet pavement.
The ride back to the hospital took less than five minutes, but it felt like hours. Sienna drifted in and out of consciousness, her breathing shallow. Luca kept pressure on the worst of the bleeding, his jaw clenched so tight it ached.
"Stay with me," he murmured against her hair. "Stay with me, Sienna."
"Our baby," she mumbled. "We have to... have to..."
"We will. I swear to you, we will. But first you have to let them fix you."
When they pulled up to the emergency entrance, Luca didn't wait for help. He kicked the door open and carried Sienna inside, bellowing for a doctor. Nurses rushed forward with a gurney, but Sienna clutched at him, her eyes suddenly sharp with panic.
"Don't leave me," she pleaded. "Don't leave me alone."
"Never," Luca promised. He placed her on the gurney but kept hold of her hand as they rushed her down the corridor. "I'm right here."
---
They wheeled Sienna into a private room, transferring her carefully to the bed. Her hospital gown was soaked through with blood, her skin pale as paper. A nurse quickly inserted an IV line into her arm, hanging bags of fluids and medication.
"She needs a transfusion," one doctor said, checking her vitals. "Blood pressure's dropping. Get O-negative up here, stat."
Sienna's eyes fluttered closed as the drugs hit her system—antibiotics, pain medication, something to stop the bleeding. Her body felt like it was floating, disconnected from reality. Voices swirled around her, medical jargon she couldn't quite process.
Time became elastic. Minutes felt like hours, or maybe seconds. She wasn't sure.
After a while of nothingness, her eyes opened again, the room was quieter. Luca sat beside her bed, his hand wrapped around hers, his face drawn with exhaustion and worry. An IV dripped steadily into her arm, the bag half-empty.
"Luca," she whispered, her throat dry.
He leaned forward immediately. "I'm here. How do you feel?"
"Like I've been hit by a truck?" She tried to sit up, but her body protested violently. Pain lanced through her abdomen, sharp and immediate. "My baby—"
"You need to get your strength back first."
Sienna looked down at the IV in her arm, at the monitors beeping steadily beside her bed. They were pumping her full of fluids, medications, trying to stabilize her. But every second they spent here was another second her daughter was in danger.
She couldn't just lie here. She couldn't.
Her hand moved toward the IV, fingers closing around the tubing. She'd rip it out if she had to, walk out of this hospital on sheer willpower alone—
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Sienna froze. Maria Marchetti stood in the doorway, her expression stern, arms crossed over her chest. She moved into the room with the quiet authority of a woman who'd spent decades commanding respect.
"Maria—" Sienna started.
"You're going to hurt yourself worse," Maria interrupted, coming to stand on the opposite side of the bed from Luca. "And then you'll be no use to anyone. Not to my son, not to yourself, and certainly not to my granddaughter."
"But she's out there—"
"And we will get her back." Maria's voice was firm but not unkind. She placed her hand over Sienna's, gently but firmly pulling it away from the IV. "But not by killing yourself in the process. You've lost too much blood. Your body has been through trauma. If you rip that out and try to walk out of here, you'll collapse before you make it to the elevator."
"I can't just sit here doing nothing!"
"You're not doing nothing." Maria gestured to the IV bag. "You're getting stronger. You're preparing yourself for what comes next. That takes strength too, *cara*. The strength to wait, to heal, to be ready when the moment comes."
Sienna's eyes burned with frustrated tears. "She needs me. She needs her mother."
"And she will have you," Maria said softly. "But she needs you alive and capable, not bleeding out in some warehouse because you pushed too hard too fast." She glanced at Luca. "Tell her."
Luca squeezed Sienna's hand. "She's right. I need you with me. But I need you able to move, able to think clearly. Give it an hour. Let the fluids work, let the medication stabilize you. Then we go together."
Sienna wanted to argue. Every fiber of her being screamed to get up, to move, to act. But looking at their faces—at the worry and determination there—she knew they were right.
She settled back against the pillows, her hand still hovering near the IV but no longer trying to remove it. "One hour," she said hoarsely. "Not a second more."
"One hour," Luca agreed.
Maria nodded in approval, then moved to adjust Sienna's blanket with the practiced care of a mother. "Good. Now rest while you can. You'll need every ounce of strength for what's coming."
She turned to leave, then paused at the door. "Gia is working on finding where they took her. We'll have answers soon."
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Luca and Sienna alone in the quiet room. The monitors beeped steadily, the IV dripped, and outside in the corridor, life continued as if the world hadn't just been torn apart.
Luca lifted Sienna's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "We're going to get her back. I swear it on my life."
"I know," Sienna whispered. "Because I'll burn this entire city down if I have to."
He smiled, grim and fierce. "That's my girl."
---
Two hours later, Luca stood outside Sienna's room, his hands braced against the wall, his head bowed. The doctors had stabilized her, stopped the bleeding, given her blood transfusions and enough fluids to bring her blood pressure back to acceptable levels. She was sleeping now, her body finally forced to rest.
But there was no rest for him.
Gia approached from down the hall, her expression grim. She carried a laptop bag and a folder thick with papers.
"How is she?" Gia asked.
"Stable. They say she'll recover, but she needs to stay in bed for at least forty-eight hours." Luca's voice was hollow. "She's going to hate that."
"She's going to ignore it," Gia corrected. "The moment she wakes up, she'll try to leave."
Luca knew his sister was right. Sienna was fierce, stubborn, willing to destroy herself if it meant getting their daughter back. It was one of the things he loved about her. It was also what terrified him most right now.
"We need to move fast," Gia continued. "I pulled every piece of security footage from a six-block radius. I've got three teams tracking the van's route. And I made some calls—Marco's been spotted."
Luca's head snapped up. "Where?"
"Not confirmed yet, but one of our sources says there's activity at an old warehouse on the east side. The same area where we arrested him three years ago."
Of course. Marco would choose somewhere with meaning, somewhere that held his humiliation and rage. The man was nothing if not theatrical.
"I need to see the footage," Luca said.
"This way."
Gia led him to a private room the hospital had provided—ostensibly for family waiting areas, but Luca's money and influence had turned it into a temporary command center. Two of his most trusted men stood guard outside.
Inside, Gia opened her laptop and pulled up multiple video files. "I've already been through most of it. Found something interesting."
She hit play on one file. The screen showed grainy footage from a traffic camera. The black van appeared, heading east, but then—
"There." Gia paused the video, pointing at a second vehicle. A dark sedan, following at a distance. "That car's been tailing the van since they left the hospital. Different driver, different plates, but look at the spacing. Professional surveillance."
Luca leaned closer, studying the image. "Marco's not working alone."
"Never thought he was. But this confirms it—he's got backing. Resources. Maybe even organizations behind him."
"Which means this is bigger than revenge," Luca said slowly, his mind working through the implications. "He's making a play. Using our daughter as leverage for something larger."
Gia nodded. "I'm still tracking down connections, but I think you're right. This isn't just about making you suffer. It's about power."
Luca's phone buzzed. Unknown number. He answered without speaking.