Chapter 8 - THE HUNT BEGINSThe underworld of the city was transformed into a militarized zone within thirty minutes of Isabella’s disappearance.
Black sedans flooded the streets. Torino soldiers blocked off major intersections, searching vehicles, dragging known Moretti associates out of bars, billiard halls, and private clubs, demanding answers at gunpoint.
The unspoken rules of the city were completely thrown out the window. Vincent Torino had unleashed his entire empire for one eight-year-old girl.
Inside an abandoned meatpacking warehouse down near the industrial canal, Leo Moretti stood over Isabella, who was tied to a wooden chair in the center of a concrete floor.
Pendelton stood in the corner, chewing his fingernails down to the quick, pacing back and forth nervously.
"This was a mistake, Leo!" Pendelton squeaked, watching the news reports on his phone. "The entire city is on lockdown! Torino’s men are burning down your father's clubs!"
"Shut up!" Leo roared, slapping Pendelton across the face. "Let them burn! Once Torino signs over the Pier 4 deeds and five million in cash, we take the kid and leave for Mexico!"
Leo walked over to Isabella, squatting down in front of her.
Isabella did not cry. Her lip was trembling, her hands were cold, but she remembered the tall man in the kitchen who had told her that fear was just something people used to control you.
"You think your big bad boss is gonna save you, little girl?" Leo sneered, patting her cheek roughly.
"Mr. Torino is going to hurt you," Isabella said softly, looking him dead in the eye.
Leo laughed hysterically, standing up. "He doesn't even know where we are! This place isn't registered under my name, my father's name, or any—"
BOOM.
The heavy steel reinforced doors at the front of the warehouse didn't just open—they blew off their hinges in a shower of sparks, concrete dust, and twisted metal.
Before the dust could clear, three flashbang grenades bounced across the concrete floor, detonating with deafening explosions of blinding white light and thunderous sound.
Leo’s goons screamed, dropping their weapons as they clutched their ears and eyes in absolute disorientation.
Through the smoke stepped Vincent Torino.
He wore no armor, no mask, no tactical gear. Just his dark suit, his heavy overcoat, and a silenced pistol in his right hand. Beside him was Marco Bellini, flanked by twenty heavily armed Torino elite soldiers who flooded the perimeter, cutting off every escape route within ten seconds.
Vincent moved through the smoke like a phantom.
Phfft. Phfft.
Two of Leo’s guards fell to the floor before they could even raise their submachine guns.
Pendelton let out a high-pitched shriek and threw himself behind a stack of wooden crates, curling into a ball, weeping frantically.
Leo Moretti scrambled to pull his gun, grabbing Isabella by her collar and dragging her in front of him as a human shield.
"Stay back!" Leo screamed, his eyes wild with terror, pressing the gun barrel against Isabella’s head. "Stay back, Torino, or I blow her head off! I swear to God I'll do it!"
Vincent stopped ten feet away.
His face was completely devoid of emotion. His gun remained leveled at Leo’s chest.
"Leo," Vincent said softly, his voice cutting through the ringing smoke. "Look at me."
Leo’s hands were shaking so hard the gun rattled against Isabella’s hair. "Sign the paper! Tell your men to back off or she dies!"
"You made two mistakes today, Leo," Vincent said, stepping forward slowly, completely ignoring the gun pointed at the child. "Your first mistake was thinking that hurting a child would make me bow my head."
"Step back!" Leo shrieked.
"Your second mistake," Vincent continued, taking another step, "was thinking you could react faster than me."
In one lightning-fast motion, Isabella did something no one expected.
Remembering the game she played in the kitchen, she threw her weight forward, biting down with all her strength on Leo’s exposed forearm.
Leo yelled in pain, his grip loosening for a fraction of a second.
THWACK.
Vincent didn't fire his gun. He lunged forward, his left hand catching the barrel of Leo’s revolver, twisting it upward while his right hand slammed the heavy steel butt of his pistol directly into Leo’s jaw.
The sound of shattering bone echoed through the warehouse.
Leo hit the concrete floor hard, coughing up blood and teeth, his weapon clattering across the floor into Marco’s waiting hand.
Vincent immediately scooped Isabella up into his left arm, pulling her head tightly against his chest, shielding her eyes from the bloody scene.
"Are you hurt?" Vincent whispered into her hair, his voice suddenly filled with a intense, protective warmth.
May you like
"No," Isabella snuffled, wrapping her small arms around his neck. "You came."
"I told you," Vincent murmured softly. "My word is the only law that matters."
