Chapter 11: A dangerous rescue mission
1250 Words
The night air was thick with tension as Victor loaded his gun, his movements precise but laced with barely contained rage. He wasn’t about to let the Mancinis dictate the game.
Alana leaned against the desk, watching him. "You’re bringing me, then?"
Victor’s eyes flicked to her, sharp and unreadable. "I don’t trust you, Rican. But right now, I don’t have time for trust. I need a killer at my side."
Alana smirked, tucking a blade into her boot. "That, Moretti, is the smartest thing you’ve said all night."
Enzo stepped forward, arms crossed. "This is a mistake."
"Probably," Victor admitted, sliding a second gun into his holster. "But it’s my mistake to make."
With that, he and Alana disappeared into the night.
---
Sophia’s Desperate Escape
Sophia’s arms ached from the restraints, her wrists raw from struggling. She sat in the dimly lit warehouse, heart hammering against her ribs.
Antonio Mancini sat across from her, sipping whiskey as if they were at some casual business meeting.
"You know," he mused, "Victor Moretti isn't a man you tie down with emotions. He won’t come alone."
Sophia kept her face unreadable. "If you think I’m his weakness, you don’t know Victor at all."
Antonio smirked. "Then why is he on his way here right now?"
Her stomach twisted, but she didn’t let it show.
"Guess we’ll find out," she said coolly.
Antonio nodded to one of his men. "Break one of her fingers. Just to make sure Moretti’s in the right mood when he arrives."
Sophia saw the brute advancing toward her, saw the glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
And she acted.
She jerked her chair forward, swinging the wooden legs into the man's knees with all her strength. He stumbled back with a curse.
In that split second, Sophia grabbed the knife from his belt with her bound hands and drove it into his thigh.
A gun c****d behind her head.
Antonio sighed, standing. "Impressive. But that was a mistake."
The gun’s safety clicked off.
And then—gunfire exploded from outside.
The doors burst open.
The Storm Before the Bullet
The warehouse loomed like a beast against the midnight sky, its steel walls swallowing the moonlight. Victor crouched behind a stack of abandoned crates, his gun cold and firm in his grip. His breath was steady, but inside, his blood ran hot.
Alana was beside him, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous thrill. “You sure you don’t want me to take lead?” she teased, adjusting the suppressor on her pistol.
Victor ignored her. His focus was razor-sharp. Sophia was in there. And Antonio Mancini had made the mistake of thinking he could take something from him without consequence.
Through the dusty windows, flickering lights revealed the shadows of men stationed around the building. Armed. Waiting. This wasn’t just a kidnapping—it was an execution trap.
Enzo’s voice crackled in Victor’s earpiece. “I count twelve guards, heavy firepower. They know you're coming.”
Victor smirked. "Good. Then they'll know when I arrive."
He raised a fist. The team behind him, a dozen of Moretti’s most trusted men, tensed in readiness. He met Alana’s gaze. "No hesitation."
She grinned. “Never.”
Then Victor gave the signal.
---
The Siege Begins
The first shot pierced the night, silencing the lookout by the door. Before the body hit the ground, Victor was already moving. Two headshots, clean and quick. The guards barely had time to react.
Alana was a ghost in the chaos, her blade flashing before a guard even realized she was there. She slid behind another, driving a knife up through his ribs, twisting with precision.
Gunfire erupted inside.
Victor kicked the door open with a thunderous crash. Two rounds, two kills. He didn’t hesitate. The stench of oil, sweat, and blood filled the air.
Antonio’s men scrambled to take cover. Too late. Moretti’s crew flooded in, taking them down one by one.
Victor’s focus narrowed.
Where the hell was Sophia?
---
Sophia’s Breaking Point
Sophia sat in the metal chair, hands now free, but every muscle screamed with pain. The dull throb in her wrists matched the rage pounding in her chest.
Antonio watched her, unconcerned, swirling his whiskey. “Your boy’s here.”
Sophia didn’t flinch.
Antonio smirked. "You should be flattered. I don’t think Moretti’s ever risked this much for a woman before.”
Sophia met his gaze, unyielding. "You don't know a damn thing about him."
Antonio chuckled, nodding toward one of his men.
"Give her a gun."
Sophia’s brow furrowed as a guard placed a loaded pistol in her palm. The weight was familiar—comforting.
Antonio leaned forward. "Let’s make this interesting. Either you shoot Victor when he walks in here, or I put a bullet in both of you."
Sophia gripped the handle.
The choice wasn’t even a choice.
She lifted the gun.
Pointed it.
Aimed.
And then fired.
The bullet screamed through the room—but not at Victor.
Straight through the forehead of Antonio’s closest guard.
Antonio barely had time to react before Sophia flipped the table into his chest and dove for cover.
And then the doors burst open.
Victor Moretti stepped into the room, gun drawn.
Sophia’s heart slammed against her ribs. He was here.
---
Victor vs. Antonio—Words or Bullets?
Antonio Mancini stood, slow and deliberate, brushing dust from his sleeve. "Moretti. You’re ruining my evening."
Victor didn’t answer. He was already moving, his gun aimed directly at Antonio’s skull.
"Let her go."
Antonio smirked. "Or what? You’ll shoot me?"
Victor c****d his head, eyes cold. "Do you really want to find out?"
Alana entered behind him, gun raised. "You should listen to him, Mancini. He’s not in a talking mood."
Antonio sighed dramatically, looking between them. Then, with a smirk, he tossed his gun aside.
"Fine. You win."
Victor didn’t lower his gun. "That easy?"
Antonio stepped closer, voice smooth. "I don’t need a gun to kill you, Victor. You should know that by now."
Victor saw the move coming before it even happened.
Antonio lunged.
Victor dodged, twisting Antonio’s arm behind his back. A sharp crack. A scream.
Antonio stumbled forward, panting. "This… isn't over."
Victor didn’t flinch. "Yes, it is."
He fired.
A single shot.
Antonio’s body collapsed.
Silence.
Victor exhaled, turning to Sophia.
"You okay?"
She swallowed, nodding. "You took your time."
A smirk. "Had to make an entrance."
Alana, standing behind them, rolled her eyes. "If you two are done flirting, we should leave before reinforcements show up."
Victor grabbed Sophia’s hand. "Let’s go."
They disappeared into the night, leaving Antonio Mancini’s empire in ruins.
---
The Aftermath – A New Choice
Back at the Moretti estate, Victor poured himself a drink, staring at the fire. The warehouse was behind them, Antonio was dead, but the war wasn’t over.
Alana stepped in, arms crossed.
"About our contract," she said.
Victor turned, expression unreadable.
"I’m backing out."
Silence.
Victor narrowed his eyes. "You don’t back out of things without a reason."
Alana smirked, leaning against the wall. "Let’s just say I want to see what kind of Don you really are before I tie myself to you for life."
Victor scoffed, shaking his head. "You Rican women. Always making things difficult."
Alana grinned. "And yet, you seem to like it."
Victor sighed, swirling his whiskey. For the first time, he had a choice.
But choices had consequences.
And the war was just beginning.
Victor Moretti had arrived.
- Writer
