Page 198 of Malicious Claim

In the back, the prisoner sat in silence, arms locked behind his back with reinforced cuffs that could snap a lesser man's wrists. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead as he worked meticulously with a pin on the cuff. Every second mattered as the van rumbled toward its destination.

"Come on, almost there," he muttered under his breath. "You can't let them imprison you again."

They finally arrived at the facility and the van came to a stop with a jolt. Gavino stepped out, moving to unlock the heavy latch on the back door.

"Alright, let's get this bastard inside—"

He never finished.

The prisoner, having freed himself from the cuffs, struck quickly, slamming the metal cuff into Gavino's temple with brutal precision. The sharp crack of the blow echoed accompanied with a yelp of pain. As Gavino staggered back, the prisoner twisted the cuff around, using its sharp edge to slice open the man's throat in one swift motion. Gavino's eyes went wide, frozen in shock, as blood poured from the wound. As theman crumpled to the ground, the prisoner's hand moved swiftly to the holster on Gavino's waist, yanking the gun free before the body hit the floor.

Alessio barely had time to react. His eyes flickered toward the fallen Gavino just as the back doors of the van swung open violently. Before Alessio could raise his weapon, the prisoner shot him precisely in his heart.

Blood pooled along the gravel as the prisoner calmly took Alessio's phone from his lifeless body, and began typing. A moment later he got a response.

The prisoner smirked.

Then he vanished into the trees.

Rain hit the windshield, the water cascading down in slow uneven drops. The black car glided through the narrow streets of Rome like a boat across the nile. Inside, a woman sat comfortably in the back seat, her sharp features carved with perfection and she bore an older, colder resemblance to Leila. She was wrapped in a grey coat as if it were armor.

Her fingers rested on her knee, one hand wearing a silver ring inscribed with the initials: E.B.

The phone buzzed in the cupholder. She picked it up, read the message without flinching, and placed it back with an audible sigh.

Moments later, the car pulled up to a lavish hotel in the city's quieter district. She stepped out, heels clicking against marble, and walked through the entrance like royalty returning home.

Inside, the suite was already occupied.

Vincenzo stood with his usual smugness, drink in hand, leaning against a leather armchair like he owned the air in the room. Across from him sat three men, colder than him, more ruthless, disciplined, and dangerous. The Orel Bratva brothers.

They didn't rise when Eva entered, but their bodies tensed imperceptibly. She was used to men responding to her presence with that subtle shift. It never bothered her anymore, not the way it used to.

Eva took off her gloves, tossing them on the table. Her gaze moved over Vincenzo briefly before settling on the Bratva leader.

"I appreciate your presence," she said, voice thick and almost masculine. "We have much to discuss."

Vincenzo gestured for a seat, but Eva remained standing.

"Makros' position is weakened," she continued. "But his decision to take my daughter has made bringing him down for good more complex."

"And yet," Fyodorovich, the eldest Bratva brother said, "you allow your daughter to remain with him."

"My daughter could be the one who brings Makros down for us," Eva replied evenly. "She claimed she wanted revenge. I gave her a test to kill Dario Conti. A dangerous obstacle in Vincenzo's path to becoming Prince of Italy. She handled it ruthlessly."

"But?" Vincenzo prompted impatiently.

Leila was not ruthless enough, Vincenzo thought to himself. She wasn't playing her revenge card with enough bitterness.

"But," she said, turning her eyes on him, "according to Nicolai's most recent reports, Leila's focus is shifting. Her hatred seems to grow thin. She's clouded with emotions. That makes her dangerous to my plans."

Gavriil, the Bratva brother to the right, younger and more impulsive, leaned forward. "We want Makros dead. That's all. Whether your daughter burns in the fire or not is none of our concern."

Eva's eyes flicked to him, just a side glance, but it was enough to make the room still.

"She is still mine," she said coolly. "I won't let her die for something she unknowingly stepped into. And you won't either.I'll make what happened to the Volkov brothers feel like a child's play if anybody else touches my daughter."

Eva felt the guilt wash over her. She wasn't there for Leila as a child. She couldn't be there for her now as a mother. She would never be accepted.