Chapter 4 – THE WATCH THAT STOPPED TICKING

The ticking of the silver pocket watch sounded like a hammer in Maria’s ears.

“You’re lying,” Bianca cried, shaking her head frantically. “Dante has fifty men guarding him at all times! You couldn’t have taken him!”

Salvatore stood up, slipping the watch back into his own pocket. “He didn’t have fifty men today. He had panic. When a man’s wife and grandmother are threatened, he stops thinking like a boss and starts thinking like a desperate husband.”

He looked at Maria. “He came alone. He thought he was meeting a contact for information. My nephew Leo arranged the location.”

Maria stared at the charcoal coat on the floor.

Dante had come alone. He had rushed blindly into danger the moment he realized she was gone. The man who had meticulously planned their relationship to clean his reputation had just broken every rule of survival to find her.

“Where is he?” Maria demanded, her voice surprising her with its strength.

“In the basement,” Salvatore smiled. “Suspended by his wrists. My men are currently explaining to him exactly what happens when you steal shipping routes from the Greco family.”

Salvatore turned to his guards. “Keep them here. When Dante breaks, bring the wife down. I want him to watch me put a bullet in her.”

He turned and walked toward a heavy steel door at the back of the warehouse, disappearing into the shadows.

The two remaining guards stood near the entrance, lighting cigarettes and talking in low, bored tones.

Bianca pulled her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. “We’re going to die here. We’re going to die in this filthy place.”

“Stop crying,” Maria whispered sharply.

Bianca looked up, shocked by the harshness in Maria’s tone. “How can you be so calm? He’s going to kill us!”

“I’m not calm,” Maria said, shifting her weight until she was sitting cross-legged on the floor. “But crying won’t open these zip-ties.”

Maria looked at the charcoal coat resting on the concrete.

Dante never went anywhere without a backup plan. Even in a panic. He was too methodical.

She shimmied closer to the coat.

“What are you doing?” Bianca hissed.

“Distract them,” Maria ordered.

“How?”

“I don’t care! Faint. Scream. Do something useful for once in your life.”

Bianca stared at her. For a moment, the mistress looked like she was going to argue. But the sheer authority in Maria’s eyes—the kind of authority Nonna Lucia carried—silenced her.

Bianca took a deep breath, threw her head back, and let out a blood-curdling scream.

“My chest! Oh God, I can’t breathe!” Bianca wailed, collapsing onto her side and kicking her legs.

The two guards immediately dropped their cigarettes and rushed over, cursing loudly.

While their backs were turned, Maria twisted her bound hands behind her, reaching frantically into the inner lining of Dante’s wool coat.

Her fingers brushed against something hard and metallic sewn into the seam.

She ripped the fabric.

A small, razor-sharp switchblade dropped onto the concrete.

Maria grasped it with her bound hands. She didn’t have time to be careful. She flicked the blade open and sawed desperately at the thick plastic binding her wrists.

The plastic snapped.

Her hands were free.

One of the guards turned around just as Maria pushed herself to her feet.

“Hey!” the guard shouted, reaching for his weapon.

Maria didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the heavy wool coat from the floor and threw it directly into the guard’s face, blinding him for a crucial second. She lunged forward, driving her shoulder into his chest and knocking him backward into a stack of wooden pallets.

The second guard raised his gun.

Before he could fire, a massive, deafening explosion rocked the warehouse, shattering the high windows and plunging the entire building into absolute darkness.

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