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As I load the revolver and sheath the knife at my side, the pieces of my plan click into place like the well-oiled gears of a machine designed for destruction.
"Watch out, motherfuckers. I am Vincenzo De Luca," I say, a warning and a promise wrapped in one chilling whisper. "And I'm coming for you."
* * *
"Vincenzo, are you ready?" my loyal right-hand man asks as he enters my office. The concern in his eyes reflects the turmoil within me, but I refuse to let it show on my face.
"Of course," I reply, my voice steady and unyielding. I slide into my signature suit, the tailored black fabric hugging my body like a second skin, a symbol of power and authority that cannot be questioned or ignored. The crisp white shirt beneath is a stark contrast to the darkness I'm about to unleash.
"Good," Marco says, nodding as if to affirm my readiness not only to him but also to myself. "We've got your back, Boss. We'll bring her home."
"See that we do," I warn, my eyes burning with a fiery intensity that leaves no room for doubt. In this moment, I am a force of nature, an unstoppable wave of vengeance crashing down upon those who dared to cross me.
"Let's move," I command, striding out of the office with purpose, each step echoing my resolve. My trusted men fall into formation around me, their own determination matching mine.
As we pile into the sleek black car, every muscle in my body tenses, anticipation and dread warring within me. Will she be all right? Have they touched her? These questions gnash at my insides like rabid beasts, but I shove them aside, focusing on what must be done.
"Drive," I order Marco, and the car screeches to life, tearing through the streets like a predator on the hunt. My heart pounds in time with the engine's roar, a relentless rhythm that fuels my need to reclaim what is mine.
Isabella.
"Boss, we're here," Marco announces, his voice barely cutting through the chaos raging inside me. The car comes to a sudden halt outside an unassuming warehouse, the very place where my Isabella is being held captive.
"Remember," I say, locking eyes with each of my men. "No one touches her but me."
"Understood," they all reply in unison, their loyalty unquestionable.
"Then let's end this," I growl, stepping out of the car and into the night, ready to confront my enemies head-on. They may have taken her from me, but they will soon learn that nothing—not even death itself—can separate Vincenzo De Luca from his obsession.
* * *
The instant I step out of the car, my senses sharpen to a razor's edge. The scent of damp earth and stale sweat permeates the air, sending a shiver down my spine. My hand tightens around the handle of my weapon, its cold steel a reflection of the darkness in my heart.
"Isabella," I whisper under my breath, her name a prayer for strength and courage.
"Boss, we've got your back," Marco reassures me, his steady gaze unwavering. I nod, knowing that the loyalty of my men is unquestionable, but this is a battle I must fight alone.
"Stay here," I order them, my voice a low, dangerous growl. "I'll handle this."
"Be careful," one of my men warns, concern etched into his features.
"Always am," I reply with a smirk, before striding towards the warehouse entrance. Each step I take feels like a ticking clock counting down to our reunion—or our destruction.
"Let's dance," I mutter as I kick open the door, my weapon raised and ready.
"Release Isabella," I demand, my voice echoing through the dimly lit interior.
"Vincenzo De Luca," a menacing voice replies from the shadows—Fabio, head of the rival mob that's been giving us grief. "You have some nerve coming here alone."
"Where's Isabella?" My patience is wearing thin, my knuckles white as they grip the weapon tighter.
"Patience, patience," the voice taunts, drawing a growl from deep within me. "She's safe...for now."
"Show me," I snarl, refusing to let them control the situation any longer. "Or I'll tear this place apart brick by brick until I find her."
"Very well," the voice concedes, and suddenly, a spotlight flickers on, illuminating the fragile figure of Isabella. She's bound to a chair, head hanging low, her once vibrant beauty now marred by fear and exhaustion.
"Isabella," I breathe, my heart breaking at the sight of her vulnerability. The moment my eyes lock onto Isabella, it's as if the rest of the world ceases to exist. My pulse roars like thunder in my ears, drowning out the mocking laughter of my enemies. Her slender, graceful form is a beacon of light in this den of darkness, and I know that I would tear apart anyone who dared harm her.
