𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 86: 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞.

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°

Antonio’s boots pounded the earth of the north woods, his breath fogging in sharp bursts under the moonlit sky.

The mansion was miles behind him now, yet he utilized every second to push farther.

His phone vibrated in his pocket—insistent, frantic. He yanked it out mid-stride, thumb smearing blood from a cut across the screen.

One new text from Grinch.

He ducked behind a fallen pine, chest heaving, and hit callback on Nevena’s number instead of opening the message thread.

“Come on, come on…” he muttered with each ring as the call went straight to voicemail.

He stared at the screen until it dimmed, then he killed the backlight.

There's no point in calling again. Her abductors had surely triangulated her phone by now.

He glanced at his compass watch and hastily broke from the treeline, scanning the dark for headlights— police or otherwise. Only a thinning forest lay ahead.

“I need to get to Nevena.”

He veered left, following a faint path until the silhouette of an abandoned hunting cabin emerged from the shadows— thirty miles south, far from the city.

He’d kept it off the books for nights exactly like this. As he moved toward it, a figure crashed into him.

He exhaled once, lunged, and unleashed a reflexive defensive strike.

“Please don’t kill me,” the figure whimpered, curling on the ground in pain.

Antonio’s stomach turned to ice. He dropped to his knees immediately and pulled her into his arms.

“Nevena,” he choked, jaw flexing so hard it ached.

Realizing she was safe, she broke into high-pitched sobs, clutching her stomach where he’d struck her.qq

“Forgive me.” His voice and hands trembled, unsure of the perfect way to ease the pain he’d caused. “I didn’t know it was you—you should have said something.”

“Let’s go,” Nevena replied through clenched teeth, suppressing the urge to cry more. “They’re almost here.”

“How many?” he asked, rage already burning in his eyes.

“No need, we're already here” Rico brawled, unbeknownst to them that it was Blade knuckles. “Hand her over and get lost”

“Mr. Hunt!” Nevena rasped, pushing up against his body. “Let’s sneak away, they have a gun.”

“And you have me.” He tipped her chin gently.

He lifted his gaze to the men and switched to their local dialect. “Tell me the bastard who sent you, and I’ll let you live.”

“You’re determined to die,” Slime snorted. “Our boss’s name alone will make you wet your pants.”

“I insist.” Antonio rose with cold authority, shielding Nevena behind him. “What’s his name?”

Rico tugged Slime’s sleeve. The two whispered a few words in the dark.

“Vincenzo,” Rico finally said, loud enough for Antonio to hear. “The undisputed Don of the city wants his pound of flesh from the man she’s acquitted to.”

Antonio’s answering smile was small—a sound that belonged in a slaughterhouse.

“Vincenzo,” he repeated, tasting the syllables. “If I’m not mistaken, he’s the one behind the Blade Knuckle household massacre?.”

Both men shifted uneasily and Antonio picked the body response he needed.

“Who are you, and how do you know that much?” Slime’s torch beam jittered across his face.

“Unfortunately, I'm the man she has an acquaintance for,” he echoed, tilting his head humorlessly. “Vincenzo’s grace is long overdue. Run. I’ll give you a thirty-minute head start.”

Slime snorted and raised his piece— a cheap 9mm with the serial filed off. “Big words for a business mogul. Talks of your kind are for topping boardroom charts, not conquering Vincenzo.”

“Hand her over,” Rico cut in, hand twitching toward the pistol at his hip. “Walk away, or we’ll take her from your corpse.”

Nevena’s fingers dug into the back of Antonio’s coat, trembling. “Please don’t fight them. Let’s just run.”

Antonio felt every tremor in her voice and it fed the rage coiling in his gut.

Despite trembling and hurt, she was still on her feet behind him, trusting the wall of his body to keep the terror out. He didn’t want her to see what he truly was—but Vincenzo’s men weren’t giving him a choice.

He shifted his weight, angling himself so she was fully shielded, her face pressed to his shoulder blade.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured in English, soft enough only for her. “Trust me. Just for a minute. Don’t open them until I say.”

She obeyed without question, burying her cheek in the groove of her palms.

Antonio hit the distance in a dead sprint, lungs burning as he kicked Slime's torch from his hand. Rico saw the unexpected blur movement and swung his pistol for counter defence — but Vincenzo's cheap commodity disappointed him.

Antonio’s left hand snapped out, catching Rico's wrist and twisting until bone ground on bone. The gun clattered into the pine needles.

Before he could scream, the brass ridges of Antonio's knuckles flashed across the meat of his throat.

A tracheal nick, deep enough to drop him instantly, shallow enough to behold in the night.

Slime retrieved his torch and folded forward with a menacing exhale— torch’s beam whipping wildly. But Antonio was already inside the light.

He ducked low in a blink and drove upward with the knuckled fist in a short, vicious arc. The blades caught Slime just below the ribs once, and then the throat in a controlled slash that opened flesh without shattering bone or a sound.

His torch tumbled for the second time, its beam spinning across the forest floor before dying against a root.

Antonio stepped back, breathing steady as he surveyed his handiwork. He slid the blood-slick knuckles off, into his coat pocket and then turned to Nevena.

She still had her eyes squeezed shut, face hidden against her palm. His Adam apple ticked and he switched back to the man he wanted her to continue knowing, a demeanor deceptively neutral.

Getting to her, he brushed a thumb gently across her cheek. “You can open them now. It’s over.”

Only then did she open her eyes, blinking into the near-darkness. She saw the two shapes crumpled on the ground—silent.

“What happened? Are they…?”

“Knocked out,” He lied smoothly, voice calm as deep water. “They’ll wake up with headaches and a long walk home.”