The call barely rang twice before a deep voice answered, smooth and amused.
“Didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again, Marco.”
Marco’s grip on the phone tightened, his jaw clenching at the sound of that voice.
It had been years since he had last spoken to this man.
And for good reason.
“I wouldn’t be calling if I had another choice,” Marco said, his tone sharp.
A low chuckle came through the line.
“Desperation doesn’t suit you, old friend,” the man mused.
“This isn’t desperation,” Marco bit out. “It’s war.”
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken history.
Then—
“Alright,” the man finally said. “Tell me everything.”
Marco took a breath, his fingers tapping against his knee.
“Ella Moreau took my son,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “She’s been planning it for years. She brainwashed him, made him think she’s his mother.”
A pause.
Then the man sighed, almost bored.
“Ah, Moreau. Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” he said. “And she’s still up to her old tricks, I see.”
Marco didn’t have time for games.
“I need her gone,” he stated.
The man chuckled again.
“And here I thought you called because you missed me.”
Marco’s patience snapped.
“Can you help me or not?”
Another pause.
Then, the voice dropped lower, more serious.
“I can,” the man admitted. “But it won’t be cheap.”
Marco expected that.
“Name your price.”
“Oh, Marco, you know how I work,” the man purred. “I don’t want money. I want something… valuable.”
Marco’s fingers curled into a fist.
“What do you want?”
The man was quiet for a moment before finally speaking.
“A name,” he said. “Someone you’ve been protecting for years. Give me that, and I’ll make sure Ella Moreau is wiped off this earth before she takes another breath.”
Marco’s pulse pounded in his ears.
This was dangerous.
Too dangerous.
But Matteo’s voice haunted him.
“I don’t know you.”
Marco exhaled sharply.
“Give me an hour.”
“You have thirty minutes,” the man corrected.
And then, the call ended.
Marco let out a sharp breath, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
He had a choice to make.
And he didn’t have much time.
Ella’s New Game
Carmen sat in the living room, staring at her phone, her hands trembling with rage.
Another message. Another f**king message. She didn’t want to open it.
Didn’t want to see what Ella had done this time.
But her finger moved on its own, tapping the screen.
The video began to play.
And what she saw made her entire body go cold.
Matteo was sitting on a plush couch, dressed in the same expensive clothes from before.
But this time?
This time, there was no hesitation. No flicker of doubt in his little eyes.
Ella sat beside him, smiling warmly, brushing her fingers through his curls.
“Tell them, sweetheart,” she cooed.
Matteo looked straight at the camera.
And with no hesitation, no uncertainty—
He smiled and said,
“Mama.”
Carmen’s heart shattered.
Her hands shook violently, her entire body trembling as she stared at the screen.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, no, no—”
Tears blurred her vision, but she still saw the way Ella pressed a kiss to Matteo’s forehead.
Still heard the way Matteo giggled as if everything was perfect.
“See?” Ella whispered to the camera, her cold blue eyes gleaming. “He doesn’t need you anymore.”
The video cut off.
And then—
Something inside Carmen snapped.
She let out a scream of pure rage, her phone flying across the room, crashing against the wall.
Marco and Luca rushed in just as Carmen grabbed the nearest glass vase and smashed it onto the floor.
Her breath was ragged, her vision blurring with fury.
“I want her dead!” she screamed.
Marco stilled.
Carmen’s hands curled into tight, shaking fists.
Her entire body was burning with pure, raw hatred.
“I don’t care how, I don’t care what it takes,” she growled. “I want that woman dead!”