Chapter 4 WHISPERS OF WAR

Arkness,that was the last thing Bella remembered before everything went black. The cold, hard ground against her cheek. The muffled shouts. The fear. She blinked, her head throbbing. The air was thick with the smell of gasoline and something else, something metallic and sickeningly familiar. Blood. She was in a warehouse, dimly lit by a single flickering bulb. Her hands were tied behind her back, and her ankles were bound. She tried to move, but pain shot through her body. Across the room, she saw him. Sal Moretti, his face twisted into a cruel smile. "Welcome, Dr.

Rossi," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "I trust you're comfortable?" Bella glared at him, her heart pounding. "What do you want?" Moretti chuckled. "What do I want? I want what's rightfully mine. I want Vince Romano to suffer." He gestured to one of his men, who stepped forward with a wicked-looking knife. Bella's breath caught in her throat. "You see, Doctor," Moretti continued, "Romano has something I want. Something irreplaceable. And I'm going to use you to get it." Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Vince was a man possessed. The sight of Bella being dragged away had ignited a rage within him that he hadn't felt since Palermo. He barked orders at Marco, his voice raw with fury. "Find her. Find Moretti. Burn this city to the ground if you have to, but bring her back to me." Marco nodded, his face grim. He had never seen Vince like this, so consumed by emotion. It was dangerous, reckless. But he understood. Bella Rossi had become Vince's weakness, and Moretti had exploited it. Vince knew he was playing right into Moretti's hands, but he didn't care. He would tear through hell itself to get to Bella. He grabbed his gun, the cold steel a familiar comfort. "I'm going with you," he said to Marco. "Don Romano, that's not wise," Marco protested. "You need to stay here, coordinate the search." "I'm not staying here," Vince snapped. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch myself." As Vince and his men sped through the city streets, the whispers of war grew louder. The Romano and Moretti families were on a collision course, and the city was about to become their battlefield. Back in the warehouse, Moretti circled Bella, his eyes filled with a predatory gleam. "You know, Doctor," he said, his voice low and menacing, "Romano is a fool. He thinks he can have it all. The power, the respect, and now... you." He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw. Bella flinched, her stomach churning. "But he's wrong," Moretti whispered. "He can't have you. Because you belong to me now." Suddenly, the warehouse doors burst open, and a figure emerged from the shadows. A figure Bella recognized instantly. It wasn't Vince. It was Detective Chang. But something was wrong. He wasn't there to rescue her. He was smiling. And in his hand, he held a gun. Pointed directly at her. "Sorry, Doctor," he said, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. "But you