Chapter 7 - The Trap is Sprung
The call came just before dawn.
Marcus, Vittorio’s second-in-command, patched through a secure satellite channel from the city. "Boss, we tracked the burner phone used to threaten Elena. It traces back to a warehouse owned by Sal Moretti himself down near the old fish markets. They’re mobilizing. They think you're vulnerable because you left the city."
Vittorio’s expression didn't change. He listened calmly, issuing precise, calculated instructions with the cold precision of a general directing an army.
"Let them think I'm hiding," Vittorio said into the receiver. "Leave the eastern gates of the city warehouse open. Make it look like an evacuation. When they walk into the trap, spring it."
He hung up the phone and turned to Elena, who stood by the kitchen counter, holding a mug of coffee. She had heard every word.
"You're going back to the city," she stated, not a question.
"I have to finish this, Elena," Vittorio said, walking over to her. He picked up his tailored suit jacket from the back of the chair and slid his arms into the sleeves. "Once the Moretti family is neutralized, you and Matteo can return home safely. No threats. No shadows."
"And if you don't come back?" Elena asked, her voice cracking slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady.
Vittorio stopped. He stepped closer—close enough that she could smell the scent of cedar and sea salt lingering on his coat. He reached out, his hand gently cupping her cheek, his calloused thumb brushing lightly against her cheekbone. It was the first time he had ever touched her with physical tenderness.
"I always come back for dinner, Elena," he whispered. "Especially when it's cooked by you."
With those words, he turned and walked out of the villa. The sound of his black SUV roaring down the gravel driveway faded into the crashing of the morning waves.
Elena spent the next twelve hours pacing the floors of the safe house, her heart trapped in her throat. Matteo was sleeping soundly upstairs, oblivious to the storm raging in the city. She kept the radio tuned to a police scanner app on her phone, listening to the chaotic chatter of sirens, dispatch reports, and encrypted police codes echoing across downtown.
May you like
Hours passed like centuries. The sun climbed high into the sky, then slowly dipped toward the western horizon, painting the ocean in shades of bruised purple and gold.
And then, silence.
