Page 34 of Vows Made in Silence
I nod once, clutching the map in my hand—an old floorplan of the gallery vault.
Luca turns back to us, voice low and lethal. “We go in quiet. But if anyone raises a weapon—shoot to kill.”
As we near the structure, a single scream slices through the air—raw, terrified, unmistakably hers. And every gun comes up.
—
Luca doesn’t wait.
He’s a shadow breaking from cover, already at the reinforced side door, hand raised in a silent signal. Two of his men peel left and right, flanking the building with grim precision.
Then Turk breaches.
The door blasts inward with a muffled crack, and chaos explodes.
Gunfire shatters the stillness. Suppressed bursts echo like whispers of death. I follow behind, breath trapped in my chest, eyes scanning every dark corner as if it might bite. Bodies move inside—Vescari’s men, too slow to react. One drops. Another fires and takes a slug to the throat.
We sweep through a hallway littered with crates marked as gallery shipments. The scent of blood and turpentine curdles the air. I glance down and see one of the boxes labeled in Giuliana’s handwriting.
“She was here,” I whisper.
Luca hears it too. His pace shifts from controlled too deadly.
We round the next corner—and there she is.
Giuliana.
Bound to a chair. Blood on her lip. Eyes wild with terror.
And standing behind her, gun to her temple—Adriano Vescari, grinning like the devil just made his move.
Vescari. The name alone carried weight in the underground—a ghost of the old empire. He had once been Vittorio Moretti’s most trusted art broker, the man who curated the family’s black collection: rare, illegal, priceless works traded in blood and secrets. But greed corrupted even the most loyal.
Exile should have ended him. But men like Vescari don’t die—they reinvent.
And now, he’s holding Giuliana like a prize piece, as if reclaiming the throne he was cast from.
"It had to be her," he sneered, eyes flicking to Luca. “She was your weakness. The perfect bait. And your father’s final mistake. He buried me. So, I decided to dig up what he loved most.”
His gaze slides to Sophia next. “You didn’t even realize you were working for me. That’s the best part. That gallery? Mine, long before she wore the curator’s badge.”
The tension in the room snaps taut. Luca’s gun hand doesn’t waver.
“You’re done, Vescari.”
10
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When Promises Break
The air in the storage compound is thick—part dust, part blood, part betrayal. The flicker of emergency lights reflects off broken glass. Giuliana’s scream still echoes in my head. Not because of the sound, but because of the silence that followed.
We moved like phantoms through the storm. No hesitations. Every room cleared, every corner owned. My men knew what was at stake. So, did I.
Turk gave the hand signal before breaching, but my gun was already drawn, breath held behind clenched teeth. I didn’t just want her back—I needed her. And I’d promised myself, long before tonight, that if I ever got a second chance, I would not let it slip away.
Now, just feet away, she’s in the hands of the man who wants to kill me and everything I love in this world.
