Chapter 67
The explosion lit up the night sky, a fiery plume stretching high above the trees. The thunderous sound echoed through the valley, a signal of the Venettis’ success—but also of the destruction it had wrought. Marco and Carmen stood at the extraction point, catching their breath as their men regrouped. The adrenaline from the firefight still coursed through their veins, but the heavy silence that followed was unsettling.
Marco scanned the faces of their returning allies, a frown forming as he noticed the absence of one. “Where’s Montini?”
A young guard approached, blood staining the sleeve of his jacket. “He’s hurt, boss. We’re bringing him now.”
Marco’s jaw tightened as two men carried Sergio Montini into view, his body limp between them. Blood soaked his side, and his face was pale, a sheen of sweat glistening under the moonlight.
“Sergio,” Marco said, rushing to his side.
Sergio coughed weakly, his eyes fluttering open. “Guess I’m not as quick as I used to be,” he muttered, his voice strained.
“You’re going to be fine,” Marco said, his tone firm as if willing it to be true. He gestured to the medics. “Get him in the car. Now.”
The medics moved swiftly, loading Sergio into the back of a vehicle. Carmen stepped beside Marco, her expression grim.
“We need to get him back to the estate,” she said quietly.
Marco nodded, his gaze lingering on the blood-soaked ground. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“It’s war, Marco,” Carmen said, her voice tinged with both empathy and resolve. “Every victory comes with a price.”
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Back at the estate, the mood was somber as Sergio was carried to the infirmary. Carmen stayed close, overseeing the medics as they worked to stabilize him. Marco, meanwhile, paced the hallway outside, his frustration and guilt evident in every step.
When Carmen emerged, her expression was a mixture of exhaustion and reassurance.
“He’s stable,” she said. “But it’s going to be a long recovery.”
Marco exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time.
“None of this is supposed to happen,” Carmen said gently. “But it does. And we keep going.”
Marco looked at her, his eyes searching hers. “How do you do it? Stay so steady through all this?”
Carmen placed a hand on his arm, her touch grounding. “Because I have to. For you, for our son, for everyone who’s counting on us. We can’t afford to fall apart.”
Marco nodded, his resolve hardening. “You’re right. We’ll make this count.”
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The next day, Alessandra sat in the study, her fingers drumming nervously on the armrest of her chair. Carmen entered first, followed by Marco, whose expression remained unreadable.
“You did it,” Alessandra said, her voice filled with equal parts awe and fear. “The cache is gone. That’s going to hurt them.”
“It was the point,” Marco said curtly, taking a seat across from her.
Alessandra leaned forward, her voice urgent. “You don’t understand. This isn’t the end—it’s the beginning. You’ve embarrassed them, but the Consortium doesn’t take humiliation lightly. They’ll come back with everything they have.”
“And we’ll be ready,” Marco said confidently.
“Will you?” Alessandra pressed. “You saw how they operate. They don’t just fight—they dismantle. They’ll find your weak spots and exploit them until there’s nothing left.”
Carmen, sitting beside Marco, studied Alessandra carefully. “What would you suggest?”
“Disappear,” Alessandra said bluntly. “Take what you can and go underground. Build yourselves back up before they strike again.”
Marco’s laugh was harsh. “Run? That’s your solution?”
“It’s survival,” Alessandra replied. “The Consortium is bigger than you think. You’ve hit one cache, but they have others. And they’ll use them.”
“We’re not running,” Marco said firmly. “This is our territory, our family. We don’t back down.”
Alessandra sighed, leaning back in her chair. “You’re making a mistake. But it’s your mistake to make.”
Carmen, who had been quiet, finally spoke. “She’s not wrong, Marco.”
Marco turned to her, his brow furrowed. “You agree with her?”
“I’m not saying we run,” Carmen clarified. “But we need to be smart. We can’t assume this victory puts us in control. If anything, it makes us a bigger target.”
Marco’s jaw tightened, but he nodded reluctantly. “Then we prepare. Fortify our defenses, reinforce our alliances. Whatever they throw at us, we’ll throw back twice as hard.”
Carmen met his gaze, her voice steady. “And we do it together.”
As Alessandra watched their exchange, she shook her head slightly. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Marco’s expression hardened. “So do I.”
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That evening, as the estate settled into an uneasy quiet, Marco stood on the balcony overlooking the grounds. Carmen joined him, her presence a calm counterpoint to his tension.
“Do you think Alessandra’s right?” Marco asked without turning.
“I think she’s scared,” Carmen replied. “But fear isn’t always wrong. We can’t underestimate what’s coming.”
Marco nodded, his gaze distant. “Sergio almost died tonight. If the Consortium keeps pushing…”
“We’ll push back,” Carmen said firmly. She placed a hand on his arm, drawing his attention to her. “But we can’t fight recklessly. This war isn’t just about strength—it’s about strategy.”
Marco looked at her, a small smile breaking through his grim expression. “That’s why I need you.”
Carmen returned his smile, her resolve unwavering. “And I need you. We’ll get through this, Marco. Together.”
As the night stretched on, the weight of the war ahead pressed down on them. But beneath the fear and uncertainty, their unity remained unbroken—a light against the darkness of the Consortium’s growing shadow.
