Page 50 of Beneath the Shadows

“Anton, promise me,” Dad yells.

Before I can answer, gunshots ring out.

Glass shatters.

My heart stops.

“Dad! Dad!”

The line goes dead. The silence on the other end is suffocating.

I slam my fist into the wall. My mind races with fear and fury. This can’t be happening. Not to my father.

“Dante, move faster,” I shout into the phone, desperation clawing at me.

“We’ve got eyes on them,” Dante’s voice comes through strained.

More gunfire echoes through the phone, the sound of screeching tires filling the void. Dante’s voice rises over the chaos, sharp and commanding.

“Return fire,” he orders. “Don’t let that bastard get away.”

I pace the hallway, helpless, my heart racing. Every second feels like an eternity.

“What’s happening, Dante?” I demand, my voice cracking.

“We got Rico before he could make a run for it,” Dante says, gunfire still crackling in the background. “The others took off as soon as it went down, but Rocco and Brian are on their tail.”

Minutes drag by, filled with the distant sounds of the firefight. My mind is a whirlwind, bouncing between rage and fear.

Suddenly, the gunfire stops. Dante’s heavy breathing fills the silence. Gravel crunches under his boots as he steps out of the car.

Then, there’s a long, agonizing pause.

“Fuck,” Dante roars, his voice raw with fury.

“Dante, what’s going on?” My voice shakes, and I struggle to catch my breath.

Dante’s voice, barely a whisper, breaks through the phone. “Rico’s still alive. But your father. Rico got to him first, Anton. He’s dead.”

“No, no, no,” I murmur, sinking to my knees. The world blurs, my mind refusing to accept the reality. “He can’t be dead. Dante, he can’t be.”

“I didn’t get here in time,” Dante says, his voice cracking with guilt. “This was too organized. It all happened so fast, and I was too late.”

I bite back a sob, tears stinging my eyes. My knuckles turn white as I grip the phone. I already know who gave the order. I’ve known it in my gut since the moment Vigo told us his crazy plan. But hearing it out loud—that’s what will make it real.

“Who ordered it?” I demand, my voice barely above a whisper.

There’s a shuffle of movement, and I hear Dante ask, “Who gave the order, Rico?”

“Valentino,” Rico coughs, his voice strained.

The name is like a dagger to my heart. “Kill him,” I say coldly.

A single gunshot rings through the line.

Dante’s breathing is ragged as he comes back on the phone. “It’s done.”

Tears stream down my face as I choke out, “He was set up. Valentino set us all up.”