Chapter 4 - The Fire and the Fury
Diego didn't hesitate. In a split second, the calm, calculating man vanished, replaced by a force of absolute destruction. He lunged forward, grabbing Marco by the collar of his tactical vest, slamming the massive man against the wall.
“What did you say?” Diego roared, his voice shaking the glass windows.
“Thomas... he knew he couldn't beat you in a straight fight, Boss,” Marco stammered, his hands raised in surrender. “He used the wedding as a distraction. While our security was focused on the cathedral and the compound, his men infiltrated the safehouse in North Providence. They took Sofia. They left a note at the burning mansion.”
Diego let go of Marco, his face twisted in a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. Sofia was his eighteen-year-old sister, the only innocent member of the Ramos family left alive after the bloody gang war. She was his absolute vulnerability.
I watched Diego breathe, his chest rising and falling violently as he tried to control the urge to go out and kill everyone in his path. This was exactly what Thomas wanted—to draw Diego out into an ambush, driven by blind rage.
“Diego,” I said, stepping into his line of sight.
“Stay out of this, Noelle,” he growled, not looking at me as he reached for a hidden panel in the wall, pulling out a heavy black Glock. “I am going to peel the skin off your brother’s face.”
“You go out there now, you die,” I said, my voice cutting through his rage like a knife. “Thomas is weak, but he isn't completely stupid. He knows you love Sofia. He has sniper nests set up around whatever location he gave you. He’s waiting for you to drive up in a blind fury.”
Diego stopped, his hand tightening around the grip of the gun. He turned his terrifying gaze onto me. “He has my sister, Noelle. Do you expect me to sit here and calculate numbers?”
“No,” I said, walking over to the discarded wedding dress. I reached into the hidden silk pocket sewn into the inner lining of the skirt—a pocket I had insisted the designer add. I pulled out a small, encrypted flash drive. “I expect you to use the weapon I brought you.”
Diego stared at the drive. “What is that?”
“It’s the real-time GPS tracking data for every single vehicle in the Martin fleet,” I said, holding it out to him. “Thomas thinks he changed the codes last week, but I copied the master key from his laptop while he was passed out drunk. He doesn't have Sofia at the mansion, and he doesn't have her at his main safehouse. He has her at the abandoned fish processing plant on Pier 4.”
Diego looked from the drive to my eyes, the rage in his expression slowly morphing into absolute awe. “How long have you been planning this, Noelle?”
“Since the day my father burned me with that iron,” I said coldly. “I knew Thomas would eventually inherit the throne. I knew he would ruin the family. I just needed the right partner to help me finish them off.”
Diego took the flash drive from my hand, his fingers brushing against mine. The anger in his eyes was still there, but it was no longer wild; it was focused, sharp, and deadly.
“Marco,” Diego ordered, not breaking eye contact with me. “Assemble the heavy squad. Full tactical gear. We’re going to Pier 4. And prepare a second vehicle.”
Marco blinked. “A second vehicle, Boss? For who?”
Diego reached out, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck, pulling me close until our foreheads touched. “For my wife. She’s going to watch her brother beg for mercy.”
Twenty minutes later, I had traded my lace slip for dark tactical clothes and a heavy bulletproof vest. Diego stood beside me in the back of an armored van, his hand resting on my thigh, a silent anchor in the dark.
As the van tore through the rainy night toward the harbor, I looked out the window at the distant red glow on the horizon. The Martin mansion was burning. My past was turning to ash.
May you like
But as we approached the dark, looming silhouette of Pier 4, the silence inside the van was shattered by the sound of gunfire.
HOOK: We came to rescue a sister, but the moment the warehouse doors blew open, we realized Thomas wasn't working alone—and the trap was already springing shut.
