Chapter 3 His Wrath

LORENZO He stood imposingly in front of his mirror, his expression aloof. But only his men knew the truth-he was mad as hell. Like the ocean, he appeared calm, but a storm was brewing inside him, one that would bring ruin and take many lives. Turning to Aldo, his most trusted man, he noted his nervousness and said, "Don't worry, man. He's safe. That coward won't touch him-otherwise, I'll deal with him myself." Aldo hesitated before replying, "But you know your uncle Marco isn't as hard as you are." Lorenzo smiled coldly.

"I'll be waiting to see you refute your words, my uncle might be soft but Matteo isn't as strong as I am." Aldo wisely remained silent to avoid Lorenzo's wrath. Lorenzo then turned to him and asked, "You said you saw him walk out of the club with a woman? Can I get a description, or do you think she's innocent?" "I know she's dark-skinned and built like a she's friends with the gym,She has a face no one can forget. She didn't seem ordinary-she was very strikingly beautiful and mysterious . I'd recognize her anytime I see her," Aldo reported. Lorenzo waved his hand, signaling him to stop talking. "I don't care about her physique or attractiveness. I just want you to track her down and bring her to me. I want to know who had the audacity to kidnap a member of the most feared family in Italy," he said menacingly. "Okay, boss," Aldo answered hurriedly, praying to be dismissed before he bore the brunt of Lorenzo's anger. "You can leave and handle what I entrusted you with," Lorenzo ordered. Aldo wasted no time, rushing off to relay the message to the others. ADANNA That morning, after tossing and turning all night, Adanna finally rose from bed. She walked to her vanity and sighed at her reflection in the mirror. Her swollen eyes and overtly alert stare made her cringe. This wasn't her first operation, and it wouldn't be her last, but for some reason, she felt uneasy-guilty, even. Even in her first years on the job, she had never felt this way about a target, or "work," as she preferred to call them. Yet this man's name kept ringing in her head. There was something about him-something almost childlike, innocent. He was affiliated with the deadliest drug baron in Western Europe, yet he seemed weak and simple. She couldn't make sense of it. When she had been led into the plan of drugging him, she had expected to meet a terrifying man. Instead, she had been thrown off balance by the calm, seemingly timid figure before her. And he was Lorenzo Eduardo's uncle. A man so feared that her boss had arranged for her to disappear for a while. The thought made her shiver inwardly. She stood up, determined to shake off the unease, and headed for a shower. Maybe a visit to the hotel spa and a tour of the town she was staying in would help clear her mind. While in the shower, her phone rang. She let it ring and only picked it up a few minutes later after drying her hair and body. Seeing the caller ID, she smiled. It was Jen, her friend-also African but from Uganda. She quickly dialed back. The bubbly voice on the other end made her chuckle. "Heyyy, Juliet! You just went AWOL! Haven't heard from you in ages, pretty one." "Oh, my goodness, please stop being a drama queen," Adanna teased. "It hasn't even been two days. Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Jen laughed. "But you know your work doesn't give you any notice before you travel for 'business.'" Someone called her in the background "Alright, babe, I'll call you back. I have a meeting to get to." "Alright, talk later, girl. Love you!" Adanna sighed sadly as she ended the call, staring at her reflection in the mirror once more. She still hadn't been completely truthful with her only friend in Italy. Jendyose-Jen, as she called her-was the closest thing to a sister she had. Jen had borne her soul to her, yet Adanna couldn't bring herself to do the same. She was just being careful. After all, the mystery she wielded was her greatest shield-no one truly knew her. Not even her real name. Except for her boss, she, Adanna, couldn't risk ruining the life she had spent years building. A Nigerian girl who grew up in an orphanage, she had always dreamt of a better life. But in a country where opportunities were scarce, she leaped at the first chance to leave-only to become a victim of human trafficking and child prostitution at a tender age. Her escape from that nightmare came in the form of her boss, who introduced her to her current job. Though dangerous and risky, it offered her anonymity, financial security, and protection. She had no real friends, except for Jen, who wasn't entirely her friend yet. Her life outside of work was nonexistent, revolving solely around con activities and night operations. Yet, something inside her-the Nigerian girl she once was-kept pushing her toward a legal life. But leaving the organization wasn't an option. Her boss would never let her go, except through death. She had taken an oath, and for the longest time, she hadn't questioned it. But recently, doubts have crept in. I don't know who my parents are, but I know I've always wanted to save lives, get married, and have children. She let out a bitter laugh before tears welled up. Reality had hit hard. She collapsed onto the bed, seeking comfort in the lush sheets and pillows. She called hotel service for food, then drifted back into an uneasy sleep .Her first day in Florence had gone terribly wrong. MARCO- Marco stood by the ocean, watching the waves crash against the shore. He needed a distraction from what Matteo had said to him. His mind drifted to the beautiful dark-skinned woman he had encountered last night. He wanted to hate her-but he couldn't. His thoughts were a mess. He had enough to deal with. His nephew, Lorenzo, was on a reckless path, stepping on Matteo's toes. Marco wanted a quiet life, but Lorenzo was dragging the family into unnecessary drama. Ever since he arrived in Italy to handle the business his elder sister had refused to manage alone because of his almost un involvement with the business everything had spiraled out of control. Now, drugs were involved. As Marco pondered his next move, he realized his clothes were drenched in sweat and his hands were trembling. Fear gripped him-not just for his family's fate, but for Lorenzo's life. God help him see sense before it's too late. As they reached the dock, Matteo's man turned to him with a smirk. "We have to get you back, Mr. Marco," he said, amusement laced in his tone, as if the name "Marco" was some kind of joke. Marco didn't respond. He simply followed him onto the boat, the sound of the waves filling the silence as they sailed to another location. From there, they got into a waiting car, driving off without exchanging a single word. What Marco didn't notice, however, was the slight tremor in the guard's hands as he gripped the wheel. The man was already shaking, knowing full well what awaited them at the Lopez estate. He feared what Lorenzo would do to him-but he knew better than to show weakness. As they approached the grand estate, the tension in the car thickened. The air seemed to grow colder. Matteo's man finally broke the silence, his voice laced with barely concealed trepidation. " I think you'll have to get out here. I need to rush back and pick up some things for my boss , and I'm in a hurry." Marco understood. The man didn't want to linger, and frankly, neither did he. The last thing he wanted was to run into Lorenzo or any of his men. He was certain that kind of encounter would not end well. Just as Marco reached for the door handle, a dark silhouette suddenly loomed over him, blocking his view. His heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted to the driver just in time to catch the flicker of fear in his expression, the way he struggled to maintain a brave front-but failed miserably. Taking a deep breath, Marco stepped out of the car, his gaze locking onto the figure in front of him. It was Lorenzo standing in his full glory His nephew's expression was unreadable, but Marco took a moment to observe him before a slow smile spread across his face. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and embraced him. Lorenzo returned the gesture, though his face remained composed, his smile cool and controlled. For Marco, however, it was a deeply emotional moment. He ruffled his nephew's hair-a small, familiar gesture from years past. It had been a long time. And no matter how much had changed, some bonds refused to break. Marco ruffled Lorenzo's hair, just as he had done since his nephew's boyhood. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, a tension that neither was willing to acknowledge outright. After a long moment, Lorenzo finally turned to his men. "Take him inside. Let him rest," he ordered. Marco hesitated, unwilling to move just yet. "Lorenzo, please," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Just let him go. They brought me back safely. I wasn't manhandled or mistreated in any way. We just had a few drinks and talked. That's all." Lorenzo's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the only sound was the faint rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. as his hands rounded up into fists and his veins pulsated in his wrists, he said, "Uncle Marco, please go and get your rest." His words were calm, but the chilling effect they carried made Marco glance at the young man who had brought him, offering an apologetic smile before leaving, trying hard not to imagine how many of his bones would be broken because of him. ADANNA Another morning, another nightmare. She jolted awake, her breath ragged, her body drenched in sweat. The same dangerous man, the same wicked eyes-always haunting her dreams. A panic attack gripped her, her heart pounding against her ribs, her head throbbing. She knew she was wasting her time hiding, but what else could she do? She had only carried out a job assigned to her by her boss, a man she owed her entire life to. She shivered as his face resurfaced in her mind, those cruel lips curling into a smirk, as if he already knew where to find her, taunting her for her foolishness and ignorance, she knew she had been trapped in the leopard's snare, and there was no way out. Two possibilities lay before her: either she killed the leopard, or she would meet a violent death. And she knew-without a doubt-that this particular leopard was untouchable. His sheer power was terrifying. She was certain she would die the moment she faced him again. She didn't even realize she had started crying until the pounding headache forced her back to reality. Fear consumed her. Misery clung to her like a second skin. She thought of home-the life she once had-and wondered if this would ever come to an end. LORENZO- Lorenzo stared at the weakling trembling before him. He deliberately held his gaze, watching with amusement as the man's legs quivered-until the inevitable happened. A dark stain spread across the bum's pants, and the sharp stench of urine filled the air. Lorenzo smirked. "Hello, young man," he said coolly. "I'm Lorenzo. Who are you?" The man was frozen in fear and couldn't make coherent sentences, Lorenzo tuts and says "That bad?, very bad of you man, now I'm asking for the last time Who are you?" Lorenzo asked, his tone laced with amusement. "Erhm... I'm nobody sir" Lorenzo extended his hand for a handshake. The young man hesitantly tried to reciprocate but found himself unable to speak. Instead, his legs buckled, and he collapsed to his knees. "Sir... I-I'm just a poor orphan," the man stammered, his voice breaking. "Please, have mercy on me. I can work for you if you want!" The moment he finished speaking, thunderous laughter erupted throughout the compound. But when he glanced up at Lorenzo, there was no trace of amusement on his face. His expression remained as cold and unreadable as ever. "What did you just say, young man?" Lorenzo's voice cut through the laughter, its chilling depth reminiscent of the devil himself. The young man froze, speechless. A suffocating silence engulfed the area, and the temperature seemed to drop. No one dared to speak for what felt like an eternity. Then, Lorenzo finally broke the silence. "Go back to your scoundrel of a boss, I don't take weaklings or disloyal idiots so you'll drop my message with Matteo ," he said, his voice calm yet laced with an unspoken threat. "Tell him I have a gift for him. I won't touch you... but I will touch you all soon." The man attempted to rise but stumbled repeatedly, his legs refusing to cooperate. By the time he reached his car, he was sobbing uncontrollably, like a frightened child. His hands trembled as he struggled to grip the steering wheel. Lorenzo had done more than just threaten him-he had shattered him. As he drove away, his vision blurred by tears, he made a silent vow: never again would he allow himself-or even his corpse-to end up in this godlike man's bad books.