Chapter 8 - The Shot at the Pier
Antonio saw the muzzle flash.
He ran toward Elena.
The second shot struck the steel railing beside her.
Antonio tackled her behind a concrete barrier.
Sofia dropped beside them.
Federal agents returned fire.
The sniper disappeared across the roof.
“You followed me?” Antonio demanded.
Elena stared at him.
“You’re welcome.”
“You could have been killed.”
“You could have been killed.”
“That is different.”
“Why?”
Antonio opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Sofia looked between them.
“Perhaps postpone the argument until bullets stop flying.”
Damen was alive.
Barely.
The bullet had entered beneath his shoulder.
Paramedics rushed him away.
Marco died before reaching the hospital.
The sniper escaped.
But Marco’s phone revealed the shooter’s identity.
Frank DeLuca.
The truck driver who had supposedly disappeared after Lorenzo’s death.
He had been alive the entire time.
Hidden and paid through Marco.
The final living witness.
At dawn, Antonio stood outside Damen’s hospital room.
Elena joined him.
“Are you going inside?”
“No.”
“You came all the way here.”
“To make sure he didn’t die.”
“That sounds almost like caring.”
Antonio glared.
She lifted an eyebrow.
He entered.
Damen looked smaller in the hospital bed.
“I wondered when you’d show.”
Antonio remained near the door.
“You don't deserve forgiveness.”
“I know.”
“You don't get to say Lorenzo's name.”
Damen closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“Why?”
Damen opened them.
“Because I was thirty, arrogant, and convinced you were going to dismantle everything our fathers built.”
“So you killed me.”
“Tried.”
“And Vincent?”
“Fed every fear I had.”
“That isn’t an excuse.”
“No.”
Antonio expected Damen to defend himself.
He did not.
That made the anger harder.
“Frank DeLuca is alive,” Antonio said.
Damen’s face changed.
“Then Elena and the child aren’t safe.”
“Why?”
“Because DeLuca has one rule.”
“What?”
“He never leaves witnesses.”
Antonio turned.
His phone rang.
Rosa.
“Antonio, Mia is gone.”
The world stopped.
He gripped the phone.
“What do you mean gone?”
“We found the nanny unconscious near the conservatory.”
Elena saw his expression.
“No.”
Antonio was already running.
On the estate’s security footage, DeLuca appeared wearing a utility uniform.
He entered through a service gate with forged credentials.
He carried Mia out wrapped in a blanket.
A message arrived twenty minutes later.
A photograph of Mia sitting in a chair.
She was crying.
The toy stethoscope hung around her neck.
Text beneath it:
YOU TOOK MY LIFE FIVE YEARS AGO.
NOW I TAKE YOURS.
Elena collapsed.
Antonio caught her.
“Find her.”
His security chief nodded.
Antonio held Elena’s shoulders.
“I will bring her home.”
“You promised she would be safe.”
“I know.”
“You promised!”
“I know.”
She struck his chest.
Once.
Again.
Antonio let her.
Then Elena broke.
He held her.
“I need my baby.”
“I know.”
“Please.”
“I’ll bring her home.”
Damen called from the hospital.
“I know where DeLuca will go.”
Antonio nearly crushed the phone.
“Tell me.”
“He kept a property in Staten Island. Old boat repair yard.”
Police surrounded the location two hours later.
Empty.
But Mia had been there.
Biscuit lay on the floor.
Elena picked up the bear.
Her hands shook.
Antonio found a pink plastic piece nearby.
Part of the stethoscope.
Mia had broken it intentionally.
A trail.
“Smart girl,” Elena whispered.
Another piece appeared outside.
Then another beside tire marks.
Antonio looked toward the road.
“She’s telling us where they went.”
Traffic cameras traced the vehicle.
South.
Then west.
New Jersey.
Finally toward an abandoned marina.
By nightfall, Antonio saw DeLuca’s van.
He told the agents to wait.
Elena grabbed his arm.
“Bring her back.”
Antonio covered her hand.
“I will.”
Inside the marina warehouse, Mia sat tied to a chair.
Frank DeLuca paced.
He was sixty now.
Scarred.
Tired.
A man who had spent five years running from what he had done.
Mia sniffed.
“You're bad.”
Frank stopped.
“Quiet.”
“My mommy gonna come.”
“No.”
“Mister Antonio come too.”
Frank laughed.
“That's what I’m counting on.”
Mia looked at him.
“His heart sad.”
Frank’s smile disappeared.
“Stop talking.”
“Yours angry.”
“I said stop.”
She stared at him with the absolute judgment only a toddler could deliver.
“You need doctor.”
Frank raised his hand.
Then stopped.
Because Antonio stood in the doorway.
“If you touch her,” Antonio said quietly, “you will not leave this building.”
Frank turned.
Gun pressed against Mia.
Antonio's entire body became still.
“You finally showed.”
“Let her go.”
“You destroyed my life.”
“You killed my son.”
“I was paid to kill you.”
“You missed.”
Frank laughed.
“Yes.”
Antonio looked at Mia.
She was terrified.
But alive.
“Close your eyes, sweetheart.”
Frank tightened his grip.
“No games.”
Antonio dropped his gun.
It clattered across the floor.
“No games.”
Frank smiled.
“On your knees.”
Antonio obeyed.
Mia started crying.
“No! Mister Antonio!”
Antonio looked at her.
“It’s okay.”
Frank raised the weapon toward Antonio’s head.
Then Mia did something nobody expected.
She bit his hand.
Frank screamed.
The gun shifted.
Antonio moved.
One shot exploded.
Elena, waiting outside, heard it.
May you like
And screamed.
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