Ella’s voice was calm, steady, and ice-cold.
“You have already lost, Marco.”
Marco’s fingers curled into fists, his entire body shaking with rage. The video call was still playing on his phone, the image of Matteo sitting beside Ella burning itself into his mind.
Matteo wasn’t crying. He wasn’t trying to get away.
He just sat there, his small fingers gripping his stuffed bear, his big brown eyes filled with hesitation.
Marco’s heart pounded violently against his ribs.
“Matteo,” he tried again, desperation leaking into his voice. “Buddy, listen to me—”
But before he could say anything else, Matteo turned to Ella, his voice small but clear.
“Mama?”
Marco froze. His blood turned to ice. His breathing stopped.
“Mama?” Matteo said again, looking up at Ella like he was waiting for her approval.
Ella smiled softly, stroking his cheek.
“Yes, sweetheart,” she murmured. “Mama is here.”
Marco’s vision blurred with pure, uncontrollable fury. His mind snapped.
With a roar of rage, he threw his phone across the room. It smashed against the wall, shattering into pieces.
Then—
He lost control. His desk went flying, knocking over the lamp.
Papers, files, and glass scattered across the floor as he grabbed the nearest chair and threw it against the bookshelf.
The sound of wood splintering and glass shattering filled the room, but Marco didn’t care.
He grabbed another chair, slamming it against the wall so hard it cracked.
He needed to destroy something. Needed to tear the entire world apart with his bare hands. Because his son?
His son had just called that woman “Mama.”
The same woman who had stolen him.
Carmen’s shaky sobs pulled him back to reality.
He turned, his chest heaving, his hands trembling with unspent rage. Carmen had collapsed onto the couch, her face buried in her hands, her entire body wracked with silent, broken cries.
Her shoulders shook violently, her breath coming in short, painful gasps.
“We lost him,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Marco’s heart twisted painfully in his chest.
“No,” he said sharply.
Carmen lifted her tear-streaked face, her eyes red and hollow.
“You saw it, Marco,” she choked out. “He called her Mama. He’s slipping away. We may never—”
She stopped, unable to say the words. Unable to voice her greatest fear. That Matteo was already too far gone.
That he might never come back.
Marco took a shaky step forward, his own rage momentarily swallowed by pain.
He had hurt Carmen before. Had made her doubt herself, doubt her instincts, doubt everything.
Now she was breaking right in front of him. Luca, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke.
“There’s only one way to get Matteo back.”
Marco and Carmen both looked at him.
Luca’s expression was dead serious, his voice calm but filled with lethal intent.
“We destroy her.”
Carmen wiped at her tear-streaked cheeks, her lips trembling.
“How?” she whispered.
Luca exhaled slowly.
“She’s smart. She’s been planning this for years. We need to be smarter. We need to hit her where it hurts.”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
“And where is that?”
Luca’s eyes darkened.
“Her past. Her connections. Her identity.”
He leaned forward, his expression cold, merciless.
“We make her existence a f**king nightmare. We tear down every part of the life she’s built. We leave her with nothing. We take away her resources, her protection, her escape routes—until she has nowhere left to run.”
Carmen’s breath hitched, her fingers clenching into fists.
“And Matteo?” she asked desperately.
Luca’s gaze softened—just slightly.
“We get him back,” he said. “Before she turns him into something he’s not.”
Marco’s hands shook with rage. His mind raced with every horrible thing he wanted to do to Ella.
Everything he wanted to make her suffer for. She thought she could erase his son. She thought she could replace him. She thought she could steal from him and walk away untouched.
She was so fucking wrong.
Marco straightened, his breathing still ragged, but his voice?
His voice was lethal. Cold. Absolute.
“If I don’t find my son, I will burn the world to the ground.”