The dimly lit conference room buzzed with low voices and the occasional clink of glasses. The air was thick with cigar smoke, and the scent mingled with the aroma of aged whiskey.
The meeting was crucial—negotiations with a potential ally that could strengthen our position in the city. I was focused, intent on sealing the deal, when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
Glancing at the screen, I saw a message from an unknown number.
Frowning, I opened it, and the blood drained from my face.
Unknown: We have Isabella.
Unknown: She's kind of cute, I think that we might use her as our own pleasure as well.
Attached was a photo of Isabella, tied to a chair in a dark basement, her face bruised and bloodied.
Rage and fear surged through me.
My vision blurred as I stared at the image of my little one, so broken and vulnerable.
“Lorenzo, are you alright?” one of the men at the table asked, noticing my sudden change in demeanor.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I quickly composed a message to Giovani.
Me: We need to track down one number. Wait me in the hallway, I'm gonna end this meeting.
I stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “This meeting is over. We’ll reconvene another time.”
Confused murmurs followed me as I strode out of the room.
Giovani met me in the hallway, his face a mask of concern.
“What’s going on, boss?” he asked.
“They’ve got Isabella,” I said, my voice tight with barely controlled fury. “Track that number and get me the location. Now.”
Giovani nodded and pulled out his phone, rapidly typing commands. My mind raced, every second feeling like an eternity.
I couldn’t lose her. Not Isabella. She was my anchor, the only person who saw beyond the monster I’d become.
A few agonizing minutes later, Giovani’s phone pinged. “Got it. They’re at an old warehouse on the outskirts of town.”
“Get the men and the cars. We’re leaving immediately,” I ordered, already moving towards the exit.
[---]
The drive to the warehouse felt like a nightmare.
My thoughts were consumed with images of Isabella hurt, scared, calling out for me.
Giovani drove in tense silence, understanding the gravity of the situation.
[---]
We arrived at the location, an abandoned building that had seen better days. My men fanned out, securing the perimeter as Giovani and I made our way inside.
The warehouse was eerily quiet, each step echoing off the walls.
“Basement,” Giovani whispered, pointing to a stairwell.
We descended quickly, the darkness closing in around us. At the bottom, a heavy door stood slightly ajar.
I pushed it open, my heart pounding in my chest.
Inside, the scene was worse than I could have imagined.
Isabella was slumped in the middle of the room, tied to a chair, her clothes torn and bloodied, exposing her to the cold and the cruelty of her captors. Her face was a mess of cuts and bruises, and her body was covered in fresh scars.
I rushed to her side, my hands trembling as I untied her bonds.
“Isabella,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m here. You’re safe now.”
She's the first person who could make my voice break by seeing her hurt.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me, barely conscious.
“Lorenzo,” she murmured, her voice weak and pained.
Giovani stood guard as I lifted her into my arms, cradling her gently.
That might be trap, because I can't see the idiot who took her and did that to her.
“Let’s get her out of here,” I said, my voice hardening with determination. “And find the bastards who did this.”
We hurried back to the cars, where the men were already waiting.
Giovani drove as I held Isabella close, trying to offer her what little comfort I could.
[---]
We reached the doctor’s clinic, a discreet location we often used for situations like this.
The doctor, an older man with a stern face, took one look at Isabella and immediately sprang into action. He ushered us into a treatment room, where he began examining her injuries.
[---]
I paced the hallway outside, my mind racing with a mix of anger and fear.
Giovani stayed close, his presence of silent support.
[---]
After what felt like hours, the doctor emerged, his expression grim. “Lorenzo, she’s stable for now, but her injuries are severe. She’s lost a lot of blood and there are signs of internal trauma. The physical wounds will heal, but the psychological scars… those will take much longer. And there’s more. She might not be able to have children after this.”
I felt the ground shift beneath me, the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. My fierce, resilient Isabella, broken and scarred, her future forever altered.
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
“Thank you, doctor,” I managed somehow to say, my voice was rough with emotion.
He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “She’s strong, Lorenzo. She’ll need you more than ever now. Be there for her.”
The only doctor who I like, that's why I hired him as my personal doctor.
I walked back into the room where Isabella lay, her breathing shallow but steady.
I sat beside her, taking her hand in mine, vowing silently to never let anything like this happen again.
"Lorenzo" she managed to say weakly.
Tears filled my eyes as I leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Rest now, little one."
As she drifted off to sleep, I stayed by her side, my mind already planning the retribution I’d unleash on those who had dared to hurt her.
No one harmed Isabella and walked away unscathed. They had awakened the monster, and they would soon regret it.
__________________________________________________________________________________
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