Every Mafia's Favorite Girl

Chapter 76: "Standard Package"

The bloodstained box sat open atop the conference table at the center of the room.

A ring of mafia soldiers and capos surrounded it, every face drawn into a grim frown.

These were men who had opened duffel bags containing severed heads, witnessed executions from only a few feet away, and disposed of bodies without losing a moment’s sleep. Yet something about this single cardboard box had chilled even them.

Inside the box rested only three items: a mobile phone, a neatly folded note, and beneath them both, a cream-colored women’s cardigan.

Everyone present recognized it instantly for what it was: a standard kidnapping announcement package.

Caio reached into the box and lifted the cardigan first. His eyes lingered over the familiar wool knit, fingertips brushing across the soft fabric.

He knew that cream color.

He had seen Aren wear it often enough.

Only the flecks of drying blood scattering across the fabric were never there before.

Carefully, he searched the pockets, feeling every seam in case something had been concealed inside. Finding nothing, he folded it and placed it back on the table with deceptive calm.

Next came the note.

This one required little processing time. A message had been printed in block letters across the center of the page:

CALL THE NUMBER IN THE PHONE IF YOU WANT THE GIRL ALIVE.

The paper crackled violently.

Caio’s fist closed around it so tightly the page collapsed into a wrinkled ball before he hurled it across the room.

Lastly, Caio picked up the phone.

It was an encrypted handset, heavily modified with relay-routing software specifically designed to conceal the origins of incoming and outgoing transmissions.

When he unlocked the screen, he found only a single unlabeled number stored in its contacts.

Without wasting another second, he hit the dial button.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

The ringtone echoed through the conference room via speakerphone.

Each heavy ring seemed to steal another breath from the room.

At last, the call connected.

The voice that answered emerged through a voice changer, distorted enough that it sounded less like a human being and more like some demonic creature from a cheaply produced horror film.

"Caio Sartori?"

There was no way to determine whether the speaker was male or female.

"In the fucking flesh," Caio replied, each syllable carved from solid ice. "Now tell me which motherfucker you are."

A burst of jagged laughter exploded through the speakers — loud, twisted, and entirely delighted by the situation.

"HA HA HA HA HA!"

"Finally! There’s actually a day where you’re the one bowing to me!"

Caio was absolutely in no mood for laughter, taunts, or villainous monologues.

"Where’s Ariana Lombardi?" he demanded, knuckles locking. "What the fuck do you want? Stop hiding behind this bullshit and say it to my face instead of playing games like some lowlife street criminal."

"Lowlife criminal?" the distorted voice mocked. "The only lowlife criminal in this conversation is you, Caio Sartori."

Another chuckle crackled through the speaker.

"So I’d recommend adjusting that attitude... unless you’d like your precious Lombardi girl returned in several separate pieces."

Fury detonated through Caio at once.

"YOU MOTHERFU—"

The words died abruptly in Caio’s throat.

Reality struck him right after his rage did.

He had no idea who they were. No idea where Aren was. No idea what they had already done to her. Threatening them now was practically begging them to put a bullet through her forehead.

With agonizing restraint, Caio swallowed every curse until his chest burned. When he spoke again, his voice had become painfully civilized.

"...What do you want?"

Another round of laughter rolled through the speakers. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

"HA HA HA! Now that’s the obedience I wanted to hear."

The voice lingered over every word, savoring his restraint.

"Now sit like a good dog and listen carefully. You are going to bring your pathetic self to a location of my choosing. Alone. If even one of my scouts spots one of your obedient little dogs following you..."

A brief pause.

"...I’m going to start carving pieces off Miss Lombardi."

The voice chuckled again.

"Let’s set the rules. One guard spotted earns you a tiny pinky finger. Two guards gets you an added thumb. Three..."

Another burst of laughter.

"We’ll improvise."

Caio’s hand clenched so tightly his veins threatened to burst through his skin. Still, he kept his voice low and steady, burying every ounce of fury beneath it.

"Put Ariana on the phone," he demanded. "Let me hear her voice."

A disappointed sigh drifted through the speaker.

"Oh, Caio, Caio..."

Another sigh.

"...you’re still just a stubborn little bastard who refuses to understand where his place is."

Caio’s eyes narrowed.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You still haven’t realized who’s holding the leash, have you?" The voice almost purred. "Allow me to remind you."

Clack.

The call ended.

For several long seconds, Caio stared at the black screen, fighting the overwhelming urge to hurl the phone against the far wall.

Instead, he slammed it onto the table and kicked a chair over so suddenly and violently that several nearby men flinched.

THUD!

"Fucking bastards!"

Another chair flew.

THUD!

"Fucking cowards!"

A third crash echoed through the room.

"They don’t even give me the goddamn address, then tell me to come alone?!"

Around him, nobody dared move.

Every soul in the room wisely stepped backward until they found themselves pressed against the walls, not wanting to become collateral damage for the Don’s fury.

At last, Leo stepped forward, assuming the role of the necessary shield.

"Boss," he said carefully, trying to sound calm, "I recommend sending men to the Lombardi District immediately. We should notify Don Gian and ask whether his internal security saw any trace of Lady Ariana’s route, or where she was heading before the extraction occurred. We’d have double the manpower and more leads to work with."

"No."

Caio held up a hand.

"Wait."

Drawing a deep breath, he forced himself to steady his thoughts before continuing in a more controlled tone.

"Whoever did this might have eyes inside the Lombardi district. If they see us mobilizing a search, they could panic."

His jaw tightened.

"They could do something to her that can’t be undone."

Leo considered the possibility and quickly accepted it as the safer course.

"...Understood, Boss. Then what do you wish to do?"

"They’re after me," Caio said with cold certainty. "They never mentioned money. No ransom. No territory. Nothing."

His gaze shifted toward the phone.

"I’d bet my life these are the same sons of bitches who’ve been trying to kill me for the past year. They’ll call back in an hour or so with some fucking address they want me to come to alone."

The prediction didn’t even last an hour.

The instant the final word left his mouth, the phone suddenly vibrated against the tabletop. freёwebnoѵel.com

Ring. Ring.

Caio snatched it up so quickly that several shoulders around the room jumped. The moment he saw the screen, his chest tightened painfully.

This wasn’t another voice call.

It was a video call.

Every instinct in his body warned him that whatever waited after he pressed the green button was something he was not prepared to see. Slowly, agonizingly, he forced his thumb toward the button before pressing it.

The instant the connection established, his heart nearly stopped.

The screen displayed a dimly lit space resembling an abandoned industrial warehouse. The lighting was poor, but more than sufficient for Caio to immediately spot the figure positioned at the exact center of the frame.

Aren.

Sat slumped in a crude wooden chair.

Thick industrial ropes bound her torso, waist, and legs securely against the wooden slats, the restraints biting into her clothing.

Her head hung heavily to one side, short platinum hair spilling forward across part of her face, but it wasn’t enough to conceal the blood smearing across her cheekbones, trailing down the side of her face in drying streaks.

Both her eyes remained closed.

She looked almost asleep.

Caio felt every drop of blood drain from his body.

The room seemed to tilt around him.

’...No.’

Before he could force another thought into existence, the distorted voice returned.

"Well... well... well."

The camera shifted, moving closer to Aren’s bruised face before slowly pulling back again, as though casually displaying a prized possession.

"Since you insisted on hearing from her yourself, Caio Sartori... ha ha ha—"

Delighted laughter echoed through the speakers once more.

"...get ready for the show."