Silence.
A long, slow exhale from someone behind me.
"They’re not just holding the villa," I murmur, the weight of it pressing down hard now, suffocating. "They’re planning to bury it."
It’s a trap.
One that had already been set, waiting for Marco to walk straight into it.
I’m moving before the thought fully forms, shoving back from the desk, grabbing for my phone. My breath is uneven, my fingers cold as they punch in his number.
It rings once.
Twice.
Then nothing.
The call drops.
I dial again, my chest tightening, panic clawing its way up my throat.
Still nothing.
Valentina is already flipping through the radio channels, urgency sharpening her voice. "Command, this is Salvatore Base. Do you copy?"
Only static answers.
I clutch my phone so hard my knuckles ache.
We’re too late. They’re already inside.
I shoot up from my chair so fast the screen flickers in my vision. "They’re going to blow up the villa."
Valentina’s face pales. "What?"
"The Lombardis ordered a massive shipment of explosives right before Marco’s attack. They’re setting a trap—when Marco and his men are deep enough inside, they’re going todetonatethe whole damn place."
Her lips part, horror flashing across her features before she reaches for the radio. "We need to warn them.Now."
I grab my phone, my fingers trembling as I dial Marco’s number.
It rings.
And rings.
No answer.
I try again. Nothing.
My stomach plummets.
I whip toward Valentina as she tries the radio, her voice urgent. "Command, this is Salvatore Base, do you copy?" Static. She tries again. "This is Valentina Salvatore, we need immediate confirmation on the status of the assault. Do you copy?"
More static.
My breath shudders. The comms are a mess—between the firefight and the sheer size of the estate, they probably aren’t even receiving half the messages being sent.
I can’t just sit here.
