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“I have the footage of the attack,” Dario says. “Well, part of it. They wiped out some of the surveillance cameras as they entered.”
I stalk to where Dario’s sitting and stop behind him. My eyes latch onto the screens, and I watch as the four helicopters approach.
“Those are black hawks,” Renzo mutters from next to me.
“No fucking shit,” I grumble.
I watch as the attack begins, and it makes my rage burn a million times hotter.
My men didn’t stand a chance.
“Pause!” I snap when a man stalks out onto the veranda with Gabriella draped over his shoulder.
My fucking heart breaks seeing her in the enemy’s clutches, but I forcefully shove the emotion down and focus on his face.
“Find out who that fucker is. I want a name!”
“On it,” Dario says, immediately getting to work.
Within seconds he has the information for me.
“Filippo Vero. He’s a mercenary for hire,” Dario murmurs. “Fuck, Damiano. He has the best team out there. Why the hell would he attack you?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Renzo hisses. When our eyes flick to him, he shakes his head as he takes a step backward. “That’s the big arms deal I completed last week. He’s the buyer I told you about.”
Fuck.
“I remember you mentioned it at the poker game,” Franco says.
Renzo’s eyes lock with mine. “I didn’t know it would be used against you.”
“Someone hired him,” Angelo says. “Someone who knew where to hit so it would hurt you most.”
Stefano.
Fuck. It can only be Stefano.
Is he really that fucking insane to come for me?
I look at Carlo. “Does Stefano have enough money to hire mercenaries?”
Carlo’s features are drawn tight with grief, and I can see he’s struggling to think before he replies, “I have no fucking idea.”
“Give me Stefano’s full name, and I’ll find out,” Dario says.
“Stefano Falco Ferraro,” I mutter.
“Seriously?” Dario asks. “Falco is his second name?”
“Yes. It’s the way his mother wanted it,” I reply.
Just as Dario starts to type, Carlo says, “There’s a message from Stefano on your phone.”
As I walk to Carlo, I tell Dario, “Trace the following number.” I ramble the number to him before grabbing my phone from Carlo.
Opening the message, there’s a video. I press play.
Intense pain shudders through me when I see Gabriella hanging from a ceiling. She’s straining against the ropes around her wrists, then I hear Stefano say, “Filippo, take off her dress.”
