Sins Of The Syndicate

The Predator’s Rage

The private office at The Golden Lily didn’t smell like sandalwood anymore. It smelled like iron and sweat.

Leonardo Thorne sat on the edge of the leather sofa, his breath coming in sharp, jagged hitches.

His left hand was pinned to a clean towel on the side table, and the white fabric was already soaked through with deep, dark crimson.

The club’s private doctor, a man named Marek who had seen enough bullet wounds to be numb to them, was trembling as he threaded a needle.

"Hold still, Mr. Thorne," Marek whispered, his voice shaking. "The blade went deep. I need to close the muscle before I can stitch the skin."

Leonardo didn't flinch when the needle pierced his flesh. He didn't even blink. He just stared at the silver letter opener lying on the floor, still wet with his own blood. His eyes weren't just angry; they were dead.

"She stabbed me," Leonardo said. His voice was too quiet.

It was the kind of quiet that meant someone was going to die.

"It was a clean strike," Marek muttered, trying to focus on the stitches. "A few inches to the left, and she would have hit a major artery. You’re lucky."

Leonardo’s head snapped toward the doctor. He grabbed Marek’s throat with his good hand, his fingers digging into the man's windpipe until the doctor’s face turned purple.

"Lucky?" Leonardo growled, his face inches from the man's. "She was a broken girl. A pet. And she put a hole in me and walked out the front door. Do not use that word in this room again."

He shoved Marek back. The doctor scrambled to finish the bandage, his hands fumbling with the tape. As soon as the last wrap was secure, Leonardo stood up, ignoring the sudden throb of pain that shot up his arm.

He walked over to the massive glass desk and slammed his good fist onto the surface. The sound echoed through the soundproof room like a gunshot.

"Marco! Get in here!"

The heavy steel door swung open immediately. Marco, the head of security, stepped inside. He looked pale. He knew what happened when a Thorne lost their "property."

"We lost the trail, Boss," Marco said, his head bowed. "The rain is too heavy. The cameras on the main road are out of service, and the tire marks from the car that hit her were washed away before we could get a good look."

Leonardo didn't scream. He didn't break a chair. He just walked over to Marco, his boots clicking softly on the floor.

"So, you’re telling me that a girl in a silk dress, a girl who has never walked the streets of Madrid alone, just vanished?"

"She was hit, Boss. Hard. We think she might be dead in a ditch somewhere."

Leonardo grabbed a glass of whiskey from the desk and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces.

"She isn't dead," Leonardo hissed. "I felt her heart beating when she drove that metal into my hand. She’s alive. And she’s out there somewhere thinking she’s free."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. His fingers were stiff from the bandages, but he dialed the Syndicate’s main enforcement line.

"Listen to me," Leonardo said into the phone, his voice cold and flat. "I want every man we have on the streets. I don’t care about territory lines. You find Sofia Galante."

He paused, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the bloodstains on the carpet.

"And listen closely. If any of you find her, you do not hurt her. You do not touch a hair on her head. You bring her back to me in one piece. I want to be the one who teaches her what happens when a viper tries to bite its master."

He hung up and turned back to Marco.

"Tell the boys at the docks. Tell the boys at the airport. If she tries to leave this city, I want to know before she even buys a ticket. If I find out someone is hiding her... I’ll burn this entire city to the ground to smoke her out."

Marco nodded quickly and backed out of the room, clearly glad to be alive.

Leonardo walked over to the window, looking out at the rain-slicked streets. His hand throbbed, a constant reminder of the girl who had finally fought back. He touched the bandage, a dark, twisted smile tugging at his mouth.

"Run as far as you want, Sofia," he whispered to the empty room. "But the Syndicate always collects its debts. And your interest just went up."

He picked up the silver letter opener from the floor. He didn't clean the blood off. He just placed it back on the desk, right where he could see it.

The hunt was on.