The Butcher’s Bride

The wrong warehouse

The video froze on Luca’s smile.

For one second, no one inside the SUV spoke.

Then flames erupted behind him.

Elena screamed as orange light raced across the wall at her back. Smoke rolled over the camera, swallowing Luca first and then the chair where Elena was bound.

The screen went black.

Valentina lunged for the tablet.

“Call him back.”

Alessio caught it before it slipped from her blood-slick fingers.

“There’s no connection.”

“Then trace the video.”

“We’re trying.”

Roman leaned forward despite the pain in his shoulder.

“Contact the thermal team.”

Alessio pressed two fingers against his earpiece.

“Unit Three, respond.”

Static answered him.

“Unit Three?”

Nothing.

The vehicles accelerated through the empty streets.

Valentina stared at the black screen. She could still hear Elena’s scream even though the video had ended.

Luca had shown her the fire.

He wanted her imagining Elena burning alive.

He wanted panic.

Roman’s hand closed around her wrist.

“Breathe.”

She yanked away.

“Do not tell me to breathe.”

“You are about to make a decision based on fear.”

“There are people trapped in a burning warehouse.”

“We don’t know that.”

“We watched it happen.”

“We watched what your brother wanted us to see.”

Valentina looked at him.

His face had grown paler, but his eyes remained cold and focused.

“Luca said I was wrong about which warehouse he planned to burn,” she said.

“Yes.”

“So Warehouse Six was another distraction.”

“Possibly.”

Alessio turned the tablet toward them. A map of the riverfront appeared.

“Warehouse Six is here. Pier Nine is two miles east. Thermal imaging identified more than sixty bodies beneath Warehouse Six before we lost contact.”

“Could the scans have been faked?” Roman asked.

“Not unless Luca had access to our equipment.”

Valentina looked toward him.

“Does he?”

Alessio’s jaw tightened.

“He shouldn’t.”

“That is not an answer.”

“Our thermal team uses encrypted frequencies.”

Roman’s expression darkened.

“Someone gave Luca the frequency.”

A traitor.

The thought passed silently between the three of them.

Luca had known about Roman’s team before the DeLuca soldiers reached the area. He had known precisely when they began scanning Warehouse Six.

Someone inside Roman’s organization was feeding him information.

Roman appeared more annoyed than surprised.

“We deal with the traitor later.”

“If there is a later,” Valentina said.

“There will be.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because your brother wants something from us. If he wanted you dead, he would have sent a body instead of a video.”

“He wants me.”

“He wants control.”

Roman reached across the space between them and took the tablet from Alessio.

“Play the video again.”

Alessio restarted it.

Luca appeared behind Elena.

Valentina forced herself to look past her brother.

Elena’s face was bruised. Her wrists were bound to a metal chair. A concrete wall stood behind her, stained with age and water.

Then there was the sound.

A distant mechanical pounding beneath Luca’s voice.

Valentina leaned closer.

“Again.”

Alessio replayed the clip.

Luca spoke.

The pounding continued.

Three heavy strikes.

A pause.

Then two more.

Valentina closed her eyes.

She had heard that rhythm before.

Not inside a warehouse.

At family dinners.

Her father complained whenever the noise traveled across the river and rattled the windows of his private dining room.

“The steel mill,” she said.

Roman studied her.

“It closed eight years ago.”

“The main plant did. Part of the eastern foundry still operates at night.”

Alessio adjusted the map.

“There are four abandoned buildings beside it.”

“Not abandoned,” Valentina said. “My father purchased one through a holding company.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know.”

Roman handed the tablet back.

“Find every property connected to Russo shell companies within one mile of the foundry.”

Alessio began searching.

Valentina replayed the video again.

The flames had appeared too quickly.

They had raced upward in a perfect line behind Elena.

“That wasn’t the building catching fire.”

Roman looked at her.

“What was it?”

“A fuel trail.”

Understanding entered his expression.

“Staged for the camera.”

“It may still spread.”

“But Luca had time to leave.”

“What about Elena?”

Roman said nothing.

Valentina’s throat tightened.

He did not need to say it.

Luca might have left Elena behind because he knew Valentina would chase her.

One woman sacrificed to move forty-nine others.

It was exactly the kind of calculation their father would admire.

Alessio turned the tablet.

“I have a match. Russo Holdings bought the old Halstead slaughterhouse six years ago. It shares an access road with the eastern foundry.”

Valentina remembered the building.

Red brick.

Broken windows.

Old livestock tunnels running beneath the property.

Her father had taken her there once when she was fourteen. He had told her the smell of death never truly left a place, no matter how many years passed.

“Go there,” she said.

Roman nodded toward the driver.

“Change course.”

The convoy turned hard at the next intersection.

Valentina braced one hand against the door.

Roman’s injured shoulder struck the seat. Pain tightened his mouth, but he made no sound.

She hated that she noticed.

She hated even more that some part of her wanted to reach for him.

“We need a plan,” Alessio said.

“We enter through the livestock tunnels,” Valentina answered.

“You know where they are?”

“I remember one entrance near the old loading yard.”

Roman studied the map.

“Luca will expect you to remember it.”

“Probably.”

“Which means the tunnel will be guarded.”

“Everything will be guarded.”

Roman’s mouth curved.

“Now you’re beginning to understand my family.”

“This is not your family.”

“It will be after the wedding.”

Alessio looked between them.

“You proposed during a siege?”

Roman did not glance up.

“I informed her.”

“That explains why she still has a gun.”

Valentina checked the magazine.

“She has a gun because I gave it to her,” Roman said.

Alessio leaned back.

“Of course you did.”

The SUV left the main road and entered an industrial district.

Abandoned factories rose on both sides like blackened skeletons. The eastern foundry glowed in the distance, its machinery hammering metal with the rhythm Valentina had recognized.

Three strikes.

A pause.

Two more.

The air smelled of smoke and oil.

Roman’s convoy stopped beneath an overpass.

“From here, we move on foot,” Alessio said. “Vehicles will be visible from the slaughterhouse.”

Roman opened his door.

Valentina grabbed his uninjured arm.

“You are staying here.”

“No.”

“You were shot less than an hour ago.”

“And you have been strangled, struck, and thrown across a room. Shall I order you to stay in the car?”

“You already tried giving me orders.”

“And you ignored them.”

“Exactly.”

“Then stop wasting time.”

Roman stepped out.

Valentina followed him into the cold night.

Approximately twenty DeLuca soldiers gathered beneath the overpass. They wore black clothing and carried rifles fitted with suppressors.

No one questioned Roman’s blood-soaked bandage.

No one looked directly at Valentina for long.

Alessio divided the soldiers into three groups.

“Team One approaches from the western rail line. Team Two secures the access road. The rest come through the tunnels with us.”

Roman pointed toward the youngest soldier.

“You remain here.”

The man looked offended.

“Boss—”

“If anything happens to us, you take Russo and Moretti to my estate. Neither man dies until Valentina questions them.”

The soldier nodded reluctantly.

Valentina stared toward the slaughterhouse.

The top floor glowed orange.

Smoke spilled from several broken windows.

Elena was inside.

She had to be.

Roman stepped beside Valentina.

“When we enter, you remain behind me.”

“I thought we settled this.”

“We settled that you don’t obey.”

“Then why keep ordering me?”

“Because eventually you may surprise me.”

She turned toward him.

“You truly believe you can control me.”

“No.”

His gaze moved over her face.

“That is what makes you interesting.”

Alessio cleared his throat.

“We should go before you two decide to have the wedding here.”

Roman took Valentina’s hand.

She should have pulled away.

Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the darkness.

They crossed an empty rail yard and approached the rear of the slaughterhouse. Rusted hooks hung from an overhead loading system. Several swayed in the wind, squealing against the tracks.

Valentina found the tunnel entrance beneath a collapsed metal ramp.

A thick chain secured the doors.

Roman gestured toward one of his men.

The soldier cut it silently.

The smell struck them as soon as the doors opened.

Rot.

Smoke.

Old blood trapped in concrete.

Valentina covered her mouth.

Roman switched on a small flashlight and aimed it down the passage.

The tunnel walls were narrow and stained dark. Rusted rails ran along the floor where carcasses had once been transported beneath the building.

They moved in two lines.

Valentina walked behind Roman, with Alessio following her.

The pounding from the foundry vibrated through the walls.

Three strikes.

A pause.

Two more.

Halfway through the tunnel, Roman stopped.

A body lay beside the tracks.

One of his thermal-team soldiers.

His throat had been cut, and his equipment was gone.

Alessio crouched beside him.

“He’s still warm.”

Valentina looked toward the darkness ahead.

“They knew exactly when your men arrived.”

Roman’s face became unreadable.

“Take his identification.”

Alessio removed a metal tag from the soldier’s vest.

“We bring him home when this is finished.”

They continued.

The tunnel divided ahead.

One route climbed toward the slaughterhouse. The other descended farther underground.

Valentina studied the floor.

Fresh tire marks crossed the dust and continued downward.

“They moved the trucks through there.”

Roman directed half the men toward the lower path.

“We go up.”

Alessio stared at him.

“The hostages—”

“Valentina believes Elena is inside.”

“One person against forty-nine?”

Roman looked at him.

“One person matters.”

Valentina’s chest tightened.

Roman started up the incline before she could respond.

Heat grew stronger with every step.

Smoke curled along the ceiling.

At the top, a steel door blocked their path.

A muffled cry came from the other side.

Valentina stepped forward.

“Elena?”

The crying stopped.

Then three soft knocks sounded against the door.

A pause.

Two more.

The same rhythm as the foundry.

“Elena,” Valentina whispered.

Roman examined the lock.

A wire ran from it into the wall.

“Trap,” he said.

Valentina followed the wire with her flashlight.

It connected to a small explosive charge positioned beside the hinges.

“If we open it—”

“The tunnel collapses,” Alessio finished.

A woman coughed on the other side.

“Valentina?”

Elena’s voice was weak.

“I’m here.”

“Don’t open the door.”

Valentina pressed one palm against the steel.

“We’ll get you out.”

“No.” Elena began crying. “You have to leave.”

Roman inspected the explosive.