Chapter 7 - The Hunt
Dawn broke over Puget Sound not with sunlight, but with an eerie, slate-gray stillness.
The Castellano estate had transformed into a command center. In the lower war room, monitors glowed with satellite surveillance feeds, wiretap transcripts, and real-time facial recognition grids covering every port, airstrip, and highway between Seattle and the Canadian border.
I stood beside Luca, dressed in dark trousers and a simple black cashmere sweater. Emma was safely tucked away in the deepest underground suite under the care of Martha and Mrs. Chen, guarded by four heavily armed loyalists.
Dante, his ribs tightly taped and a dark bruise purpling his jaw, limped to the central digital table.
“Arthur Vance was picked up twenty minutes ago trying to board a private jet at Boeing Field,” Dante announced, tossing a passport and two burner phones onto the glass. “He’s in holding room three.”
Luca’s expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
“Bring him up,” Luca said.
Two minutes later, Arthur Vance was shoved into the room. The elderly lawyer, usually immaculate in bespoke three-piece suits, was disheveled, trembling, his expensive silver hair wild. When his eyes caught mine, shame flickered across his wrinkled face, followed quickly by sheer terror as his gaze shifted to Luca.
“Ava… please,” Vance stammered, raising his handcuffed hands. “You have to understand… I didn't have a choice. Jake… Jake had files on my offshore accounts. The Russians threatened my grandchildren!”
“You sold my daughter,” I said, my voice steady, devoid of the tears that had plagued me for weeks. Something inside me had hardened. Standing next to Luca, watching the cruelty of this world unfold, the timid waitress from Marino’s was dying. “You drafted my mother’s estate to give Jake access to her trust. You helped him steal her money.”
“I was trying to protect the firm!” Vance wept.
Luca stepped around the table. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't draw a weapon. He merely walked with that slow, terrifying grace that made men want to drop to their knees.
“Arthur,” Luca said softly.
Vance began to shake violently. “Luca… Mr. Castellano… please. We’ve known each other for fifteen years—”
“Where is the Petrov exchange taking place?” Luca asked.
“I don't know! I swear to God, I only handled the legal transfer of the shell company—!”
Luca reached out, took Vance’s left hand, placed his index finger flat against the mahogany table, and pressed the tip of a heavy silver pen against the joint.
“I will ask you once more, Arthur,” Luca whispered, leaning in close. “And every time you lie, I will take a finger. When I run out of fingers, I will move to your toes. Where is Jake meeting Sergei Petrov?”
Vance broke. The cowardice of a man who dealt in betrayals crumbled instantly under the reality of physical violence.
“Pier 54!” Vance sobbed, tears and snot running down his face. “Tonight! At midnight! Petrov brought a freighter from Vladivostok—the Severodvinsk. Jake is supposed to bring the genetic extraction device to the ship. Petrov is paying him two million in cash and giving him safe passage to Russia!”
Luca stared at the lawyer for three long seconds. Then he released his hand and wiped his fingers with a clean linen handkerchief.
“Take him to the basement,” Luca ordered Dante. “Turn him over to federal authorities after midnight. An anonymous tip regarding money laundering and treason.”
“Yes, Boss.” Dante dragged the weeping old man out of the room.
Luca turned toward his lieutenants. “Assemble the strike teams. No Castellano vehicles. We use unmarked vans. Pier 54 is surrounded by commercial warehouses; we lock down the perimeter at 23:00 hours.”
“Boss,” Dante paused at the doorway. “What about the Russian diplomatic status? That freighter is flagged under foreign registry.”
Luca’s eyes flashed with lethal coldness. “Once they fire a single bullet on American soil, their flag means nothing. Burn the ship if necessary.”
The room cleared quickly as men moved to execute orders.
I stood by the digital map of Pier 54, staring at the satellite layout of the rusty shipping docks.
“You’re going yourself,” I said without looking at him.
“I have to,” Luca replied, coming up behind me. “Jake will only show himself if he thinks he has the upper hand. He has to see me.”
I turned around to face him. “He knows you want him dead. He’ll have a trap set.”
“Of course he will,” Luca said softly. “That’s why I’m bringing twice the men he expects.”
He looked down at me, his gaze sweeping over my face. Slowly, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered against my skin, sending a delicious, dangerous heat racing down my neck.
“You should take Emma and Mrs. Chen to our safehouse in Portland,” Luca murmured. “If things go wrong tonight—”
“Nothing is going wrong tonight,” I interrupted, stepping closer, my hand reaching up to grasp his forearm. The hard muscle underneath his sleeve tensed at my touch. “You brought me into this fortress to protect my daughter. You don't get to die on me now, Luca Castellano.”
A faint, breathtaking smile broke across Luca’s sculpted lips—genuine, raw, and full of unspoken longing.
“Is that an order, Miss Carter?”
“It’s a promise,” I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Luca didn't answer with words. He pulled me into his chest, his large hand cupping the back of my neck, and brought his lips down onto mine.
The kiss was fierce, possessive, and electric. It tasted of danger, expensive whiskey, and undeniable hunger. All the fear, the weeks of tension, the unspoken attraction that had crackled between us erupted in a single, breathless moment. I wound my fingers into his dark hair, pulling him closer, surrendering completely to the terrifying, intoxicating gravity of the mafia king.
May you like
When he finally pulled back, both of us were breathing heavily, our foreheads resting together.
“Wait for me in the vault,” Luca whispered against my lips. “When I return, this city is ours.”
