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ROMIRO

H elen’s smile is a razor, cutting through the air between us, sharp and cold. My pulse quickens, my grip tightening on the gun as I step into the room. Every muscle in my body is taut, coiled, and ready to spring. I have to stay calm. I glance around quickly, assessing. It's a small space that’s cluttered with boxes and old shipping crates. There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

"Drop your guns," she orders, her voice a venomous whisper. She steps to the side, revealing Alessia, Val, and Mara. They all have their wrists bound,a strip of duct tape across their mouth—their eyes wide and terrified. Helen’s arm is wrapped around Alessia’s throat, the barrel of her gun pressing into her temple.

"Drop them," she repeats, her eyes flicking between me, Emiliano, and Nicolo, a sly smile spreading across her lips. "And kick them over here."

I meet Alessia’s gaze. Her eyes are pleading, filled with a fear that makes my chest tighten painfully. I can feel the sweat on my palms, the tremor in my hand. I know Helen is watching me closely, looking for any sign of resistance. But there’s no way I’m giving her that satisfaction.

Nicolo gives me a small nod from the corner of my eye, a silent signal. We have backup weapons hidden in our jackets, but she doesn’t know that. This could be our chance if we play it right.

“Alright,” I say slowly, lowering my gun to the ground. “We’re putting them down. Just… don’t hurt her.”

Helen’s smile widens, her eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. “No promises.”

I grit my teeth, carefully placing my gun on the floor and nudging it toward her with my foot. Emiliano follows suit, his face hard and unreadable, his movements slow and deliberate. Nicolo hesitates a beat longer, just enough to draw Helen’s attention. Her eyes dart to him, suspicious, and I see her hand twitch.

“Now,” she snaps. “Kick them all the way over. And don’t try anything stupid, or I’ll blow their brains out.”

I nudge the gun harder, sliding it across the cold concrete floor. It scrapes loudly, echoing in the small space. Emiliano does the same, and our weapons come to a stop near Helen’s feet. Her smile broadens, triumphant.

“Good boys,” she purrs. “Now, step back. All of you. Hands where I can see them.”

We obey, moving back slowly, our hands raised. My mind is racing, calculating, searching for any opening, any chance to turn the tables. Nicolo shifts slightly, his hand brushing against his jacket. I see the glint in his eye, the barely perceptible nod.

I know the plan. I know what he’s thinking. The backup weapons, hidden at our backs, ready to be drawn in an instant. But we have to be careful. One wrong move, and Helen could pull the trigger.

Helen’s grip on Alessia tightens, and I see Alessia wince. My heart lurches in my chest, a mix of fear and fury boiling up inside me. I have to do something. I have to act, but I can’t risk Alessia’s life. Not anymore than I already have.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “What do you want, Helen?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm, steady. “Why are you doing this?”

She laughs—a high, cold sound that sends a shiver down my spine. “What do I want ?” she repeats, mockingly. “Oh, Romiro… I want so many things. But mostly, I want to watch you suffer.”

Her words hit me like a blow to the gut, but I don’t flinch. I can’t. I keep my eyes on her, watching her every move, every twitch. She’s playing with us, enjoying the power she holds, the fear she’s instilling. But she’s distracted. I can see it in her eyes, in the way she keeps glancing between us, uncertain, nervous. She knows we’re up to something. She just doesn’t know what.

Nicolo moves slightly to the side, drawing her attention again. I take the opportunity, sliding my hand slowly toward my back, feeling the cool metal of the hidden gun beneath my jacket. I keep my movements slow, controlled, careful not to draw her eye.

Emiliano speaks up, his voice calm, steady. “Helen, this doesn’t have to end like this,” he says. “You’ve got what you wanted. You’ve made your point. Just let them go.”

Helen’s eyes narrow, suspicion flickering across her face. “Oh, no,” she says, her voice low and dangerous. “I’m not done yet. Not by a long shot. You see, I suffered for far too long because of their father.” She tilts her head in Nicolo’s and my direction. “And now, in my old age, they’re making me suffer again. Well, it’s time for some payback.” This bitch loves her I’m the victim speeches.

My fingers close around the grip of the gun, and I feel a surge of adrenaline, my heart racing in my chest. I know the moment is coming, the split second where we have to act. Nicolo is ready, his hand hovering just above his waistband, his eyes fixed on Helen. Emiliano shifts his weight, preparing for whatever comes next.

And then, it happens.

Helen’s attention wavers for just a second, her gaze flicking to the side. It’s all the opening we need. In one fluid motion, I draw the gun from my waistband and fire, aiming just over her shoulder, a warning shot that ricochets off the metal wall behind her. She jumps, startled, her grip loosening on Alessia.

Emiliano lunges forward, grabbing Alessia’s arm and pulling her to the side, out of Helen’s grasp. And then he moves to the other girls, untying them. Helen snarls, turning the gun toward him, but Nicolo is already moving, his backup gun drawn, aimed straight at Helen’s chest.

“Drop it!” Nicolo shouts, his voice a thunderous command.

Helen hesitates, her eyes wide, darting between us, calculating. Panic flares in her eyes, the realization that she’s outnumbered, outgunned. Her hand wavers, her finger on the trigger, but she doesn’t pull it. She knows she won’t make it out if she tries.

“Drop it, Helen,” I repeat, my voice low, deadly. “Or I swear to God, I will put you down myself.”

She sneers, her eyes flashing with rage, but slowly, reluctantly, she lowers the gun, letting it fall to the floor with a dull clatter. Nicolo moves quickly, kicking it away from her reach.

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.

“You’ve got a lot to answer for,” Emiliano says, his voice full of barely contained rage. “And trust me, we’ll get every damn answer out of you.”

Helen’s smile is tight, almost amused. “I wouldn’t count on it,” she replies, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

I step in front of her, blocking her view of Emiliano. “You’re going to talk,” I say, my voice low and firm. “And if you don’t… well, let’s just say we have other ways to make you.”

She sneers, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. I know she’s weighing her options, trying to decide if she can outlast us, if she can hold onto whatever twisted plan she’s cooked up. But I won’t give her that satisfaction.

“We’re done here, for now,” I say, stepping back and motioning to the door. “Lock her up.”

The guard slams the door shut with a heavy clang , turning the key in the lock.I let out a long sigh, my shoulders relaxing slightly. This is far from over.

I turn to Emiliano and Nicolo. “We need to regroup,” I say. “Figure out what our next move is. We’ve got her, but there’s still so much we don’t know.”

Nicolo nods, his face set in a grim expression. “Yeah. We need to find out who else is involved and where her men are hiding. She’s not working alone.”

“And the girls,” Emiliano adds, his voice tight with worry. “We need to find out what she did to them while they were held.”

I nod, feeling the weight of his words settle over me like a heavy blanket. “I know,” I say quietly.

“You did good,” Nicolo says quietly. “Back there, with Helen. You kept your cool.”

I nod, my throat tight. “Had to,” I reply. “For Alessia.”

He claps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “We got her,” he says, “and we’ll get through this. Together.”

I nod again, swallowing hard, my heart aching with the weight of everything that’s happened, everything that’s still to come, but I can’t let it show. I can’t let the fear, the doubt, the guilt consume me. I have to stay focused, stay sharp. For Alessia. For all of us.

I glance over at Helen, locked away in the small, dark room, her face shadowed by the dim light. She’s not done fighting, I can see it in her eyes, but neither are we.

“Let’s get to work,” I say, my voice firm, resolute. “We’ve got a lot to do.”