Page 64 of Veil of the Past
I step forward, my gun still trained on her, my heart pounding. “On your knees,” I order, my voice harsh, resolute. “Now.”
Helen hesitates for a moment, her eyes narrowing, but then she complies, sinking to her knees, her hands raised in surrender. I feel a rush of relief, a wave of adrenaline that makes my hands shake, but I don’t lower my weapon. Not yet.
Emiliano pulls Alessia behind him, shielding her with his body, his gun still pointed at Helen. “Nice move,” he mutters to me, a small grin touching his lips. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
I nod, my eyes never leaving Helen’s face. “I had to,” I reply quietly. “For her.”
Nicolo steps closer, keeping his distance, his gun steady. “What do we do with her now?” he asks, his voice low, his eyes cold.
I take a deep breath, my mind racing. We can’t just let her go, not after everything she’s done. But we can’t kill her, either. Not yet. We need her alive. We need answers.
“We take her with us,” I say finally, my voice firm. “Lock her up somewhere safe. We’ll figure out what to do next.”
Nicolo nods, his expression grim. “Alright. But we need to move—fast. Her men could be on their way.”
I look at Emiliano, who’s already moving toward the door, his gun still drawn, his other hand wrapped around Valentina. “Let’s go,” he says. “We need to get out of here.”
I reach for Alessia, my hand closing around hers, pulling her close. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice low, urgent.
She nods, her eyes wide, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. “I’m okay,” she whispers. “But… we need to get out of here. Now.”
I nod, turning back to the others. “Alright. Let’s move.”
Nicolo hits Helen with the butt of his gun, knocking her out before throwing her over his shoulder, he offers his hand to Mara who takes it. But she doesn’t look like she’s responsive.
We leave the room quickly, moving through the shadows, our guns ready, our senses on high alert. I keep a firm grip on Alessia’s hand, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing. We’ve got Helen, but this is far from over. I know her men will come looking, and they won’t be far behind.
We make our way back to the cars, moving quickly but carefully. Tension lingers in the air, the sense of urgency, the danger lurking around every corner. I glance back at Nicolo, who’s carrying Helen. She’s not going to make this easy for us. I know that much.
But for now, we’ve won. We’ve got her. And that’s a start.
Emiliano pulls me aside as we reach the car, his expression serious. “What’s the plan?” he asks quietly. “What do we do next?”
I glance at Alessia, who’s watching us with wide eyes, her face pale but determined. I turn back to Emiliano, my jaw set, my resolve firm.
“We take her to a secure location,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady, even though my mind is racing with a thousand possibilities. “Somewhere no one knows, not even her men. We need to keep her under wraps until we figure out our next move.”
Emiliano nods, his eyes flicking to Helen, who is still glaring at us with cold fury. “I’ve got a place,” he mutters, a dark edge to his tone. “A warehouse out by the docks on the other side of the city. It’s off the grid; no one goes there unless I say so.”
“Good,” I reply, glancing over at Nicolo, who’s still keeping a careful eye on Helen, we never know when she’ll wake up. “Nico, get the cars ready. We need to move quickly.”
Nicolo nods, heading over to one of the black sedans parked nearby.
I tighten my grip on Alessia’s hand, feeling her trembling beside me. “It’s going to be okay,” I murmur, squeezing her fingers gently. “We’ve got her now. We’re going to get through this.”
She nods, but she seems to be catatonic. I can’t blame her.
Nicolo pulls the car around, and we hustle Helen into the backseat, securing her hands behind her with a handkerchief. Emiliano slides into the driver’s seat, his face grim, his jaw set. Nicolo gets into the car behind us, keeping a close watch as we pull out of the alley and onto the darkened streets. Val and Mara are both in the car with Nicolo.
The city rushes past in a blur of neon lights and shadowed corners. I keep looking back, half-expecting to see Helen’s men appear out of nowhere, guns blazing. But so far, nothing. Just the hum of the engine and the occasional distant wail of a siren.
We reach the docks, the air heavy with the smell of saltwater and oil. Emiliano pulls up to a nondescript warehouse, its windows dark, its doors heavy and reinforced. He jumps out, motioning for me to follow.
“We’ll take her inside,” he says. “There’s a room in the basement, locked down tight. She won’t be able to get out.”
I nod, before getting Helen out of the car. Inside the warehouse, the air is cool and damp, the only light coming from a flickering bulb overhead. We drag Helen to the back room, a small, windowless space with a heavy metal door. Nicolo unlocks it, and we shove her inside.
Emiliano steps forward, his face inches from Helen’s. She’s still out cold, but not for long. Emiliano nods to one of the guys, and they dump an ice-cold bucket of water over. She wakes up with a loud gasp.
