Page 16 of Ruined By Capture

I would have stumbled backward if not for his other arm wrapping around my waist, steadying me. Heat radiates from his body as his hand splays across my lower back, holding me firmly against him, caught between his wide outstretched thighs. I'm brutally aware of how much larger he is, how easily he dominates the situation.

I lift my head slowly, finding his face inches from mine. His dark eyes bore into me, his expression unreadable but deadly intense. My breath catches in my throat as we lie frozen.

"This USB belongs to me now," he says, in a low rumble I can feel reverberate through his chest.

"Vafanculo," I curse, glaring directly into his eyes. The Italian profanity slips out before I can stop it.

A flicker of something—amusement?—crosses his face before disappearing. I push away from him, breaking free of his grip, and rush at my bag lying on the ground. If I can't have the USB, I at least want my other belongings.

Alessio doesn't try to stop me. He simply watches as I grab the bag and unzip it frantically.

Empty. Nothing but the lining stares back at me.

I watch her expression transform as she stares into the empty bag—shock, then disbelief, then a flash of raw panic that she quickly tries to mask. Her fingers grapple the fabric.

"Where are my things?" Her voice remains taut but I catch the slight tremor beneath her composure.

I slip the USB into my pocket, the weight of it suddenly significant. This small device contains evidence that could bring down two powerful families—including her own father. The implications are still sinking in. Human trafficking. Organ harvesting. Hundreds of victims.

Melania looks up at me, those amber eyes hardening with determination despite her vulnerable position.

"What happens now?" she asks.

The question hangs between us.What happens now?I don't have a clear answer. Damiano needs to know about this hardware wallet, about what Antonio and Raymond are really involved in. This changes everything—our strategies, our leverage, possibly even our objectives.

I don't answer her question. Instead, I turn away, my mind already ploughing through the implications, the necessary calls, the security precautions we'll need to take. Antonio Lombardi's desperation to find his daughter makes perfect sense now—it's not about family loyalty but self-preservation.

I reach the door and pause, feeling her eyes on my back. For a moment I consider saying something—about protection, about what this information means, about what comes next—but I decide against it. Better to consult with Damiano first.

I step through the door and lock it behind me, the metallic click echoing in the hallway.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, running my thumb along my bottom lip as I consider our next move.

I stride down the corridor.

The control room is quiet when I enter, just the low hum of equipment and the blue glow from multiple screens. On one monitor I see Melania pacing her room, her shoulders rigid, hands scraping through her hair.

I pull out my phone and dial Damiano. Despite the hour he answers on the second ring.

"Tell me," he says, his voice alert.

"We have a situation," I say, keeping my eyes on Melania's monitor. "That USB drive she was carrying? It contains evidence of human trafficking and organ harvesting. Antonio and Raymond Stone are running the operation together."

Silence stretches across the line for several seconds.

"You've verified this?" Damiano finally asks.

"No. It's locked with military-grade encryption and fingerprint access. But she offered me thirty million to get it back."

Damiano exhales heavily. "This explains a lot. How's our guest?"

I glance at the monitor where Melania is now sitting on the edge of the bed, her posture erect. "Holding it together. Better than expected."

"I need to see what's on that drive," Damiano says.

"That's the problem. We can't access it without her. It needs her skills to bypass encryption."

On the screen Melania finally lies down, though I can tell she's nowhere near sleep.

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