Page 42 of Surprise Baby for the Don

We reach a door, and I glance back, hoping to catch a final glimpse of Mateo, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I have the sinking feeling in my chest that I’m not going to see him again.

As we step outside, the cool night air hits me, a stark contrast to the stifling heat inside the warehouse. I take a deep breath, steadying myself as I glance around, searching for any sign of Bats or Red. The darkness presses in around us, but I feel a strange sense of relief, a faint glimmer of hope.

We’re almost there. Almost free.

“Hold on, Rocco,” I murmur, tightening my grip on him as we move forward, each step a victory, each breath a promise that we’re not done fighting. Not yet.

Finally, we round a corner outside and see Red, Bats, and two more of Mateo’s men I’ve seen around. Red runs to us, helping me support Rocco’s weight.

“Where’s your car?” I ask Red, who looks at me with quite a bit of concern. It’s the most emotion I’ve seen from him since we met.

“We parked down the block,” he tells me, eyeing Rocco, who looks like he’s about to collapse.

“He’s not going to make it that far,” I whisper, voicing what he’s already thinking.

Reds just nods and looks around the lot, full of cars that belong to the Savinis. “Ever hot-wired a car before?” he asks, a smirk lighting up his face.

28

Mateo

The warehouse is silent now, bodies strewn across the floor, my footsteps echoing in the otherwise empty hallways. I make my way back to the office. This isn’t over yet.

I step into Carlo’s office, my senses sharp, every muscle on edge, but the room is empty. The fluorescent light buzzes eerily above as I move around the desk, gun cocked, just in case he’s hiding underneath. He isn’t behind the desk, though.

I accidentally knock over a half-empty water bottle, and when I bend down to get it, I realize the floor is uneven. I kneel down, running my hands along the floor to feel for a catch. My fingers graze against a slightly raised edge, and I dig my fingernails into it, pulling it up to reveal a trap door. There’s nothing but darkness, but I can hear running water deep below. This must go all the way down to the sewer.

So he ran.

I grit my teeth, my frustration mounting. Of course he ran, Carlo wouldn’t have the guts to face me without leverage. He’s a snake, a coward. Running is in his nature. He set up this whole trap for me only to slip away when the violence broke out. He would never survive at the top.

I crouch down, gripping the edge of the hatch and pulling it open the rest of the way. I grab the phone from the desk, swiping up to open the flashlight. There’s a ladder a few feet below, leading down into what looks like a sewer system. Reluctantly, I begin my descent, the air thick with the scent of damp concrete and rust. I climb down into the darkness.

The hatch clatters shut above me. Apart from the phone flashlight, I’m in total darkness. I take a deep breath, letting my eyes adjust as I strain to listen for any unusual noises. I walk further into the sewer system, knowing Carlo couldn’t have gotten far. As my ears get used to the normal sounds of the sewer, I try to pick out anything that sounds like it doesn’t belong. Finally, I hear it. There’s a echoing through the tunnels. It sounds like heavy breathing, labored, desperate. I follow it, my footsteps silent, my movements controlled as I close in on my prey.

The tunnel twists and turns, a labyrinth of concrete and shadows, but I keep going, the sound growing louder with each step, until finally, I see him.

Carlo is slumped against the wall, his face pale, blood seeping through his shirt from a wound on his side. His breathing is shallow, ragged, each gasp of air punctuated by a soft whimper of pain. He looks up as I approach, his eyes widening in terror as he realizes he’s cornered, trapped.

“Mateo,” he croaks, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Please don’t do this. Let me live and I swear to God I’ll never bother you again.”

I stand over him, my gaze cold, unfeeling. This is the man who tried to destroy me, who used every dirty trick in the book to undermine my family, to take away everything I’ve worked for. And now he’s begging for his life, his eyes filled with desperation, with fear.

I don’t move. I don’t speak. I just stare down at him, letting him feel the weight of my presence, the inevitability of his fate.

“Please,” he begs, his voice trembling. “I’ll do anything. I’ll leave, I swear. You’ll never see me again. I’m done. My brother is dead, my men are dead, there’s nothing left for me here. I’ll disappear, I’ll change my name and live a quiet life in the country somewhere. Please.”

He’s nearly weeping now, the emotion in his voice thick despite how labored his breathing has become. Each word comes out as a pained wheeze. Part of me wants to shoot him just to put him out of his misery.

For a moment, I consider letting him live. I consider leaving him here, in the darkness, to rot in his own fear and misery. Maybe that would be punishment enough, to let him crawl out of this place, broken, defeated, knowing that he’s lost, that he’ll never be a threat to me or my family again.

I take a step back, my gaze steady, my voice cold. “Fine,” I say, my tone clipped, dismissive. “I’ll send someone to get you out. But you’re done, Carlo. Do you hear me? This is over.”

He nods frantically, relief flooding his face as he realizes he’s been spared. “Yes, yes, I swear. Thank you, Mateo. Thank you.”

I turn sharply on him, disgusted to be in the presence of such a weak, small man. My mind is already shifting to the next task, to getting Ginny and Rocco out of here safely. But then, just as I’m about to step around the corner, I hear it. A soft click, the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

I spin around, my instincts taking over, my hand reaching for my weapon as I catch sight of Carlo, his hand shaking as he aims a gun at my back, his eyes wild with desperation.

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