𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 93 : 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞.

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°°

Antonio parked by the side of the road and approached slowly, stopping a few feet away.

"Why drown in grief when you had every tendency to stop it?”

Liza looked at him, no words at first. Then, quietly straightened to full length. “That night, blood, bullet... it was all chaos. My fault. Not yours. I choose to be a mother”

“I never knew he was your son,” Antonio choked, overwhelmed by Liza's sorrow.

She studied him for a long moment. “Same way you'd swear about Maya”

“Maya?” Antonio repeated, confused.

“Don't waste her the way you did with Willow.” Liza said simply. “I already have you released.”

“What are you saying?”

Liza turned and walked away, disappearing into the throng. But Antonio's eyes lingered in her direction until she boarded a bus.

Though no elaboration, the silent stare and attitude told Antonio all he needed to know. He went back to the car and retrieved his phone and dialed Grinch.

“Where's Maya and Nevena?”

“Tourist is in safe hands” Grinch rumbled in response.

“Maya?” Antonio's infuriated voice rose.

“Convincing Liza was hard.” Grinch whispered. “Don got involved, and handled it his w—.”

Antonio didn't wait for him, he tossed the phone away and started the engine, steering the car to the one place he would find Lucas.

–––––

𝐒𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

Sophia opened her door at the first ding, like she had been waiting for it.

“You found my block” she threw the door ajar, approaching Nevena, whose caregiver had eased her wheelchair at the bottom of the stairs.

“Mr Grinch said —” Nevena began softly, but Sophia cut her off.

“He already told me” Sophia rasped, offering Nevena support. The caregiver folded the wheelchair and followed them inside.

“Thanks for accepting me,” Nevena acknowledged, as Sophia shut the door after the caregiver left. “I will leave immediately when I heal.”

“It's nothing” Sophia whizzes, “I couldn't turn down Grinch's request. Moreover I'm on suspension.”

“Thank you”

Sophia brushed a smile and carried Nevena's belongings into the guest room she already cleaned. “I'll be making vegetable sauce for dinner.”

“That's kind of you,” Nevena answered, scrutinizing the living room, which was too feminine for a lady who handles guns and criminals.

–––––

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐬’ 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩…..

The lower cargo hold reeked of diesel, rust, and despair.

Antonio shouldered the watertight door open, it groaned and the metal slab slammed inward, banging against the bulkhead.

Dim emergency bulbs swung overhead, throwing long shadows across stacked crates and coiled chains.

Lucas lounged in a rusted folding chair that looked stolen from the 80s, cigarette hanging from his lips. Four of his men stood in a loose semicircle around the center of the concrete floor.

Antonio’s eyes narrowed to the loose ring, and Maya was there, strapped to a metal chair bolted-down in the center.

The men's laughs were low as they passed a bottle, taking turns watching like it was pay-per-view, Lucas was 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 watching like it was theater.

Knowing their hood, he was fully aware of what was going on with Maya surrounded, he didn’t speak. He crossed the hold in six fast strides to see for himself.

Under a harsh hanging bulb — Maya sat zip-tied to a metal chair, blindfolded with black duct tape wrapped twice around her head, another strip sealed her mouth, the edges already wet from tears and saliva.

Her blouse hung in shreds, buttons gone, boobs exposed. Bruises were already blooming along her collarbone and ribs.

To make matters worse, Carlos, big and tattooed, was crouched in front of her, grinning as his thick fingers worked between her thighs like he owned the territory.

“How dare you bastard” Antonio gritted,

The air shifted instantly and Carlos straightened slowly, meeting Antonio’s gaze locked on him.

There was no physical confrontation yet, no dramatic rebuke.

Just that look.

He scoffed, trying to recover his bravado. “Relax. We were just—”

He never finished, because Antonio seized his hair, jerked the head back, and drove a fist through the nose. Bone exploded and blood fountained.

Carlos collapsed wheezing, gurgling, the other three rushed forward instinctively but Lucas lifted one finger and they froze.

They couldn’t restrain Blade Knuckle without permission, and Lucas wasn’t giving it.

Antonio grabbed him by his shirt and planted his boot square in Carlos’s lower abdomen countlessly. The big man coughed, choking on blood.

But Antonio didn’t stop, until Lucas finally spoke, calm as ever. “That’s enough.”

He stopped, but only solely because he chose to. He dropped Carlos like trash.

Then he turned and walked to Maya. Her shoulders were shaking violently now. He removed his jacket first and covered her.

Lucas exhaled smoke. “You always liked dramatic entrances.”

Antonio ignored him, and dropped to one knee. Fingers—still dripping red— he peeled the tape from her mouth as gently as he could. She coughed, gasped, tears cutting tracks beneath the blindfold.

“You’re safe,” he said quietly, using a thumb to wipe off the sweat on her chin.

Next he cut the zip-ties anyway—quick, careful slices with the switchblade he’d taken off the floor.

The moment her wrists and ankles fell free, she grabbed fistfuls of her saviour’s shirt, buried her face against his chest, and broke—shaking, heaving sobs, clinging like he was the only solid thing left in the world, though her eyes were still blindfolded.

Seeing the level of her trauma, Antonio turned to Lucas. “What did you do?” he asked.

Lucas tilted his head and shrugged one shoulder. “I solved a problem. Business, fratello. You know how it works. Leverage”

“She’s seventeen,” Antonio growled.

“Old enough to bargain with.” Lucas smiled thinly, before taking a slow sip of his drink. “You forget who handled Liza's testimony for you.”

The statement made Antonio finally turn, he eased a sigh and slid an arm under Maya's knees, another behind her back and lifted her into his arms.

She buried her face in his neck, still crying, silent now except for hitched breaths.

He looked back at Lucas over her shoulder. “From today onward… let me handle the women in my life” He said quietly, “You don’t interfere. Not one.”

“You always did have a temper, my boy.” Lucas flicked ash onto the deck.

“You ever use any of them again,” Antonio maintained, “I won’t care about rules. Not yours. Not mine.”

“You're growing quite rebellious” Lucas studied him with a thinned smile. Then finally— “Take her.”

Antonio turned toward the companionway without another word. Behind him, the hatch clanged shut.