Chapter 54: Tossed out
There was a flurry of activity. Police officers were everywhere—moving briskly, taking statements, speaking into radios—while the hotel’s management looked utterly overwhelmed. The manager was forced to call in his superiors, stammering through explanations about how such a breach of security could have happened in what was supposed to be one of the city’s most exclusive establishments.
Dante’s security detail was equally busy, moving with quiet precision, their faces hard and unreadable as they coordinated with the authorities. Through it all, Dora stood silently beside Elisa, her eyes heavy and unfocused. Elisa hadn’t spoken for a long time—her face pale, expression dark, almost lifeless. Dora didn’t dare say a comforting word; the silence between them said enough.
I don’t like Maria... but I would never wish anything bad on her, Dora thought, her heart aching despite herself. She stood still, watching the flurry of motion around her, hoping—desperately—for even the smallest good news. But the hours dragged on, and nothing came.
By the time the police finally began packing up their equipment, fatigue and frustration had settled thick in the air. They left with solemn expressions and vague assurances that they would "do everything possible" to find Maria and identify her kidnappers.
Even Dante’s private security seemed to have hit a dead end. Their updates became less frequent, their tones more subdued. Every lead they chased seemed to crumble into nothing.
It was almost midnight when Dante finally spoke, his voice low but final. "We’re done here. We’ll continue from the estate."
It made sense—staying at the hotel would achieve nothing. Still, the unspoken tension between everyone made the decision feel like surrender.
The cars were waiting in the parking lot, lined up in a neat row under the yellow glow of the streetlights. Dora moved beside Elisa, pushing her wheelchair slowly toward their car. Elisa’s silence hadn’t broken. Her face—still delicate, still young—looked older somehow, the weight of all she’d endured pressing visibly into her features.
"I promise I’ll do all I can to find her," Dora whispered as she bent close, but Elisa didn’t respond. She simply stared ahead, her hands limp in her lap. Dora’s chest tightened.
Elisa’s personal bodyguard stepped forward to help, moving with practiced care to lift her out of the chair and into the back seat. Her toes yet to heal enough for her to stand without pain coursing through her body.
Dora stepped aside, smoothing the folds of Elisa’s dress absently—until a sudden, sharp sound split the air.
A screech. Tires skidding violently across the pavement.
Heads turned instantly. The sound was too familiar, too distinct, and for Dora, the memory it pulled up made her blood run cold.
Her breath hitched. No... not again.
A black car sped into view, its headlights flashing harshly across the lot. For a split second, everything seemed to move in slow motion. The vehicle skidded to a stop just a few meters away—then, without warning, its back door flew open.
Someone was thrown out.
A body.
It hit the ground hard, rolling across the pavement before coming to a halt.
Then, as if it hadn’t happened at all, the car accelerated, tires screeching once more before disappearing into the night.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then Dante’s men sprang into action, several of them shouting orders as they dove into their cars to pursue. Dora didn’t even hear them properly—her ears were ringing, her eyes locked on the figure lying motionless on the ground.
She knew.
She knew who it was before Luca even shouted her name.
"Maria!"
His voice cracked, filled with a raw, desperate mixture of hope and terror. He ran, nearly tripping as he fell to his knees beside her, hands trembling as he tried to lift her head.
"Help me! Somebody help me!" he yelled.
Elisa’s voice broke through next—sharp, commanding. "Hurry!" She was already half out of her chair, ignoring the pain that lanced through her legs as she tried to move forward. Dora rushed to stop her, helping her balance as they both hurried toward the scene.
Her heart pounded violently in her chest. Please be alive. Please...
They reached her just as Luca managed to turn Maria over. Dora froze mid-step. Her breath caught in her throat, and a strangled gasp escaped her lips.
There was blood. So much blood. It stained Luca’s white shirt, his hands, the pavement beneath them. Even his black suit had turned a darker shade where it had absorbed the red.
Maria’s body was bare, her skin pale and glistening with sweat and blood. But what drew Dora’s gaze—and held it—were the words carved across her body. Small but deliberate, each letter burned at the edges to stop the bleeding, then wiped clean so they could be clearly read.
{You know what we want. This is just the beginning.}
Dora’s stomach twisted violently. Her vision blurred for a moment.
Elisa’s gasp was sharp and high-pitched as her hands gripped the sides of her wheelchair so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Time seemed to slow around them.
Luca was sobbing now, holding Maria close, his shoulders shaking violently. "Maria, wake up... please..." His voice cracked again and again, breaking into incoherent sounds of anguish.
Elisa sat frozen, eyes wide and unblinking, tears spilling freely down her face. Dora couldn’t move. She could barely breathe as her gaze traced the dark words on Maria’s flesh.
But the horror didn’t stop there.
When Dora’s eyes fell lower, she felt her knees weaken. One of Maria’s legs was gone—cleanly severed. The wound had been treated, bandaged crudely but effectively, as though someone had wanted her alive... just barely.
The sound of sirens cut through the air moments later. Blue and red lights flickered against the marble pillars and luxury cars, painting the night in chaos.
Paramedics rushed forward, prying Luca away from Maria’s body as gently as they could. He resisted, shouting, crying, refusing to let go until two men pulled him back by the shoulders.
They worked quickly, lifting her onto a stretcher, hooking up tubes, shouting medical terms that Dora didn’t understand. Then, with the wail of an ambulance, they were gone—Luca climbing in beside her, refusing to be left behind.
Elisa tried to follow, her voice trembling as she barked at her guards. "Get the car! Now!" She looked to Dora, eyes wild with panic. "Put me in. We’re going to the hospital."
Dora obeyed without argument, helping her into the car. Elisa didn’t look at her once, didn’t speak a word as she gave quick orders to her bodyguard and waved her hand impatiently for them to drive.
The convoy of cars sped off, leaving Dora standing alone under the harsh white lights of the parking lot.
For a long moment, she didn’t move. The air smelled of smoke and gasoline. She could still see the streak of blood on the pavement where Maria had fallen.
She took a deep breath.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go to the hospital. But she knew what awaited them there—cold waiting rooms, long hours, doctors giving vague updates while everyone sat in silence.
"If they wanted to kill her, she’d already be dead," she murmured under her breath, not sure if it was comfort or cruelty. I don’t wish her harm... but that doesn’t mean I love her either.
A gentle tap on her shoulder startled her.
She turned and saw Llara standing behind her. She’d been silent the whole time—her usually bright demeanor replaced by a subdued calm.
"You don’t have to go tonight," Llara said softly. "You can go tomorrow morning."
Dora shook her head immediately, exhaustion etched across her face. "They’re my family," she said quietly. "Even if I don’t think she’d do the same for me... I’ll do it for Father."
Llara’s expression softened. She stepped forward and pulled Dora into a gentle hug. "Then go," she whispered.
Dora hugged her back briefly, then pulled away. "I’ll see you later."
"Yeah," Llara replied, her voice faint but kind. "Take care."
As Llara walked away, Dora turned back toward the faint red stains on the ground—the last trace of Maria’s torment—and took one final deep breath ’some wedding’ she muttered under her breath before heading toward her car.
