Page 4 of Crimson Reign

"We need to move," I tell her, already planning a plan. "My men are outside. Can you walk?"

She nods, eyes fixed on Roberto's body.

"Good. Stay close to me."

We make it outside without incident. My team has already started cleaning up, working efficiently in the darkness. I guide Elena to one of the waiting SUVs, helping her into the backseat with her still-sleeping daughter.

I'm about to give orders when Valentino runs up, phone extended.

"Boss, you need to see this."

The screen displays a message sent to every major player in our world.

$20 million for the woman and child, dead or alive.

With Elena and her daughter’s picture right below.

Someone must have tipped Massimo off about our operation before we arrived.

Massimo’s allies now know Elena Martinez is with the Bellanti—and they know she's talking.

I look back at the woman in the car, clutching her daughter, waiting for me to decide their fate.

"Change of plans," I tell him. "We're taking them to my private safe house. No one else knows about it."

"Not even the family?"

"No one," I repeat. "Not until I verify what she knows."

I slide into the backseat beside Elena, nodding to the driver to move. She looks at me with a mixture of fear and hope that makes something uncomfortable twist in my chest.

"What happens now?" she asks quietly.

"Now I take you somewhere safe and you tell me everything," I reply. "And we see if your information is worth as much as the price on your head."

The drive to the safe house is silent except for Elena's occasional sighs and the quiet hum of the engine. Her daughter remains asleep, oblivious to the chaos that just changed the course of her life.

We finally get to the safe house. It’s small, practical, and easy to defend.

This is where we’re staying?” she asks, her voice quieter now that we’re alone.

“Yes.” I shrug off my jacket, setting my gun on the kitchen counter within easy reach. “It’s safe. No one knows about this place.”

She exhales, tension still clear in her shoulders. “Thank you.”

I don’t acknowledge the gratitude. Instead, I pull out my phone and dial Nico. He picks up on the second ring.

“This better be important,” he mutters.

“It is.”

A pause. Then, “Where are you?”

“My safe house. There is a situation. "

There’s a brief pause before he responds. “That’s funny. You call me when you need something, but when I asked for your help to move a couch last week, you suddenly disappeared.”

I rub a hand over my face. “I was busy.”

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