Page 41 of Vows Made in Silence
All because the old bastard couldn’t stomach dying with your name on his conscience. He should’ve buried the truth like he promised. In his twisted way, he loved you and that son of yours.”
Giuliana. Every laundering deal, every blood-for-art swap, every whisper in a gallery corridor—that was me.
And you? You never even knew he was the puppet master—watching, listening, and anticipating every move you made.
His words drip with venom, but this isn’t just hatred—it’s a declaration. A vow.
"And now? Now I take back everything you stole. Your son, your second chance, your fairy-tale ending. I’ll unravel your life the same way Vittorio unraveled mine—quietly, painfully, and piece by piece. And, I’ll let you live just long enough to understand what it feels like to watch your legacy burn."
The line cuts.
And the war room explodes into motion.
12
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Ashes and Bloodlines
Leo doesn’t waste a breath. He’s barking orders like a man who’s run this drill a hundred times, except this time—this time it’s personal.
“Scramble the trucks. Team A hits the perimeter. Team B moves east and surrounds the warehouse grid. No one moves in without my signal.”
The room freezes. Eyes on me. No one dares speak.
The tech manning the thermal monitor suddenly curses under his breath, voice tight with urgency.
“Movement at the site. Multiple heat signatures—one of them’s small. Could be Daniel.”
My breath catches. It takes every ounce of control not to tear the monitor off the desk and scream for them to zoom in. But Leo's already moving, barking coordinates, issuing orders with lethal precision.
“Deploy aerial units. I want a live stream on every angle,” he commands. “Giuliana, stay close.”
I nod, staring at the screens for any sign of my little boy.
The screen refreshes with thermal imaging—blotches of red, orange, and yellow against the black and gray landscape of the warehouse district. In the corner of the image: a heat signature, small, still.
Daniel.
“They’ve got him in the northeast quadrant,” the tech says. “That part of the warehouse looks sealed. Reinforced entry. They’re not planning to run. They’re waiting.”
Leo curses under his breath. “They’re baiting us. They want us to come charging in.”
I press closer to the screen. “Then we give them what they want.”
The drone camera shifts—and suddenly reveals something that makes my heart stop. A second child-sized heat signature.
Another kid?
Or a trap?”
—
Leo pulls away from the screen, already reaching for his encrypted sat phone. He dials with military precision and waits for two rings.
“Luca,” he says when the call connects. “We’ve got eyes on the target. But something’s off.”
A pause.
