Page 62 of Stolen By the Enemy

We didn’t talk too much, but I can tell her heart is broken, which is understandable.

I never saw the Baldinis as people who could leave their family members behind without any protection.

Luca is lucky that he’s not a member of my family, because even if they did think Grazia was working with me, leaving her in Mexico would have cost him his life.

Putting on my running shoes, I start a slow jog away from the beach house, picking up speed as I go.

The property runs along a road looking over the sea, and it’s a great place to run. I don’t do this nearly enough anymore.

The horizon begins to blush with hues of pink and orange, signaling the arrival of a new day.

The seagulls above me catch the early light, their cries blending with the whisper of the breeze.

As I run, the tranquility of the morning starts to seep into my bones, and the weight on my shoulders begins to lift.

With each step, I feel a renewed sense of energy.

The cool breeze carries the scent of the ocean, and for a moment, I let myself be immersed in the simplicity of the scene.

The morning sun, rising slowly from the water, paints the sky in warm pastels.

While my feet hit the pavement, I go over everything that happened last night and what the next steps are from here.

I don’t plan on giving up, and I’m glad that I didn’t have the Baldinis meet us at the beach house, because now I can still use this location privately.

The other problem is Grazia. Her brothers were supposed to take her home, but she’s still here.

I know she was hurt by Luca’s words, but I don’t know how she feels about being stuck in Mexico. With me.

Grazia's face flashes in my mind—the vulnerability in her eyes as tears streaked down her cheeks.

The weight of her sadness gnaws at me, a constant ache that even the calming beauty of the morning can't dispel.

I replay the events in my mind, the unraveling of the deal, Luca's incompetence, and Grazia caught in the crossfire.

She didn't sign up for this life, for the chaos that surrounds me.

As I run, I grapple with the realization that she's become an unwitting casualty in a war she never chose.

The sound of her soft sobs echoes in my ears, and for a moment, the crashing waves seem to mimic the turmoil within me.

I never intended for her to be dragged into the darker corners of my world, yet here we are, entangled in a web of complications.

As the sun climbs higher, I find myself questioning the choices that led me here. The allure of power, the intricacies of deals and alliances—they all pale in comparison to the raw emotion reflected in Grazia's tear-stained eyes.

I run faster, as if trying to outrun the guilt that nips at my heels.

Luca's screw-up sets my blood boiling. The deal was meant to be smooth, a strategic move to lock in my control.

Instead, it's a train wreck. I'm pissed, beyond frustrated that things went south.

I’m back at square one, Grazia's presence lingering like an unwelcome guest.

I've got to rethink my plan, figure out how to get what I want without dragging Grazia into the mess any further. She's become an unexpected complication in this game, and I can't afford any more slip-ups.

I run scenarios in my head, trying to find the weak spots in the Baldinis' setup. My contacts are waiting for my next move, but I can't let them see the inner turmoil Grazia's stirred up.

The question nags at me—can I salvage my plans without messing things up for her and without getting her hurt in the process?

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