His greatest love.

Chapter 22.

The bodies of the soldiers lay in a row before Gio, their lifeless faces catching the harsh glare of the floodlights. The stench of blood clung to the night air, mingling with diesel and smoke from the loading trucks. Gio's jaw flexed, a storm simmering behind his cold stare.

He didn't raise his voice—he didn't need to. His men leaned in when he spoke.

"Strip them of anything traceable—phones, wallets, weapons. Burn what needs burning, bury what needs burying. No graves, no markers. I don't want a shred of their existence tied back to me."

The crew nodded quickly, but he wasn't finished.

"Separate them. Different sites, different crews. No patterns, no trail. When I ask about them tomorrow, I want silence—like they never breathed."

"Yes, boss," one of the men answered, already signaling to the others.

Gio's eyes lingered on the bodies a moment longer, cold and unblinking. "And if one of you gets sloppy..." His gaze cut through them like a blade. "I'll make sure you join them."

The men stiffened, the weight of his words sinking in. Orders from Gio weren't suggestions—they were law.

"That fucking Santos is really pushing it," he muttered, almost to himself, as Matteo stepped up beside him.

"He's getting too close, Gio," Matteo answered in a low voice.

"I know."

Matteo's eyes flicked to the bodies, then back to Gio. "How much did that two-faced bitch even give him?"

Gio's gaze snapped to him, sharp as a blade. "You tell me. She was your weak link."

Matteo's nostrils flared. "How was I supposed to know she was a spy?"

"You've been in this business long enough to know you don't trust anyone!"

"Oh, so it's my fault now?"

"How many people have been compromised?" Gio's voice cut through the night like gunfire.

"I checked. She was alone."

"Double check."

"I did."

"Then triple check! If we hadn't caught on to this plan, we'd both be rotting with them right now!" Gio's tone rose, fire flashing in his eyes.

"But we're not!" Matteo shot back.

"And I'm not willing to take that risk again. Triple check with the team, replace them if you have to—I don't care how you do it. Just fix this!"

Matteo smirked, scrolling through his phone with deliberate nonchalance. "Are you mad at me, or at the fact that your doctor still hasn't texted you back?"

The comment earned him a glance so cold it could freeze bone. Matteo only grinned wider. He wasn't wrong. Gio's temper tonight wasn't just Santos—it was her silence, gnawing at him, pushing his thoughts into dark corners. She was safe, he knew that. But why wasn't she talking to him? The possibility of Santos trying to creep back into her life was enough to fuel a bloodbath.

"Are you fuckers done," Gio barked suddenly, turning to the men by the trucks, "or are you still whining like little bitches?"

"We're done, boss!" one of them stammered.

"Then move. Get the shipment out of here!" Gio snapped, his coat flaring as he strode to his SUV. "Make sure it gets to the destination."

Matteo followed with a smirk. "Going to see your doctor?"