Gone

Bianca was gone.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

I simply stared at the empty chair.

My mind refused to process what I was seeing.

She had been sitting there seconds ago.

Seconds.

So how could she be gone?

My eyes dropped to the floor.

The bracelet.

Bianca's bracelet.

The silver one she wore every day.

The one our grandmother had given her on her sixteenth birthday.

It was stained with blood.

My stomach twisted violently.

"No."

The word barely escaped my lips.

"No, no, no."

I rushed forward and grabbed the bracelet.

It was still warm.

Fresh.

Very fresh.

Fear exploded inside me.

"Bianca!"

My voice echoed through the safe room.

No answer.

Alessio was already moving.

His expression had become terrifyingly cold.

The kind of cold that promised violence.

The kind that made grown men afraid.

"When?" he demanded.

Roman frowned.

"What?"

"When was the last perimeter check?"

One of the guards answered through Alessio's earpiece.

"Three minutes ago."

Three minutes.

Someone had taken Bianca in less than three minutes.

From a secure room.

Inside a mansion crawling with armed men.

The realization made my blood run cold.

Whoever did this was good.

Very good.

Alessio cursed.

I had never heard him curse before.

The sound shocked me.

Because it revealed something rare.

Panic.

Not visible panic.

Not weakness.

But urgency.

Real urgency.

"Lock the estate down," he barked into the earpiece.

"Nobody leaves."

A pause.

Then:

"Search every room."

Another pause.

His eyes darkened further.

"Every room."

I stepped toward him.

"You have to find her."

His gaze immediately found mine.

For a second something softened.

Only for a second.

Then it disappeared.

"I will."

The certainty in his voice should have reassured me.

Instead it terrified me.

Because Alessio sounded like a man preparing for war.

Roman folded his arms.

"This wasn't random."

Alessio shot him a murderous look.

"Obviously."

"The Russians wouldn't risk entering a secure room."

My pulse quickened.

Roman was right.

The attack downstairs was one thing.

This was different.

Much different.

Someone knew exactly where Bianca was.

Someone knew exactly when to strike.

Someone had help.

An ugly thought formed inside my mind.

Someone inside the mansion.

A traitor.

I looked between them.

"You think someone helped them."

Neither man answered.

That was answer enough.

My stomach dropped.

Someone from our own side.

Someone we trusted.

A chill crawled down my spine.

Suddenly nobody felt safe.

Not the guards.

Not the staff.

Not even family.

Anyone could be involved.

Anyone.

Alessio suddenly stepped closer.

Too close.

His hand closed around mine.

Strong.

Warm.

Certain.

"Stay beside me."

I blinked.

"What?"

His jaw tightened.

"I won't ask twice."

Normally I would have argued.

Normally I would have complained about his bossy attitude.

But Bianca was missing.

And for the first time in my life—

I was genuinely afraid.

So I nodded.

Alessio immediately led me toward the door.

Roman followed.

The hallway outside was chaos.

Armed guards ran in every direction.

Radios crackled constantly.

The atmosphere felt charged.

Dangerous.

Everyone knew something had gone terribly wrong.

"Sir!"

One guard hurried toward Alessio.

"We found blood."

My heart stopped.

"Where?" Alessio demanded.

"North corridor."

I didn't wait.

I ran.

The men cursed behind me.

But I didn't stop.

I followed the guard through winding hallways until we reached the corridor.

Blood streaked across the marble floor.

Not much.

But enough.

My knees nearly gave out.

Bianca.

It had to be Bianca.

Please.

Please let her be alive.

Alessio arrived seconds later.

His expression hardened.

He crouched beside the blood.

Studying it carefully.

Like a hunter tracking prey.

"What else?"

The guard swallowed.

"We found this."

He handed Alessio something.

A phone.

Bianca's phone.

The screen was cracked.

A fresh smear of blood covered one corner.

My chest tightened painfully.

Alessio turned it on.

The screen lit up.

And immediately froze.

His face changed.

I noticed instantly.

"What is it?"

He didn't answer.

"Alessio."

Slowly—

he handed me the phone.

A video was playing.

My breath caught.

Bianca appeared on the screen.

She looked terrified.

Bound to a chair.

A cloth tied around her mouth.

My vision blurred.

"Bianca..."

Someone stood behind her.

Hidden in shadows.

Their face concealed.

Distorted.

Impossible to identify.

Then the figure spoke.

A voice changer disguised everything.

"This is simple."

My hands started shaking.

"If you want her alive..."

The figure paused.

And then—

looked directly into the camera.

Into me.

Into Alessio.

Into all of us.

"Bring Lucia Moretti."

The world stopped.

Silence.

Pure silence.

My pulse roared in my ears.

No.

No.

No.

This wasn't about Bianca.

It was about me.

Again.

The figure continued.

"Come alone."

My throat tightened.

"Or your sister dies."

The video ended.

Nobody moved.

Nobody breathed.

The corridor felt frozen.

I stared at the black screen.

Unable to think.

Unable to process.

My sister had been kidnapped because of me.

Because someone wanted me.

Not money.

Not power.

Me.

Alessio's entire body had gone rigid.

Dangerously rigid.

Like he was seconds away from killing someone.

Roman looked grim.

The guards exchanged nervous glances.

Finally—

I spoke.

"I'm going."

The reaction was immediate.

"No."

Alessio's answer came instantly.

Sharp.

Absolute.

I looked at him.

"They'll kill her."

"No."

"They said—"

"I heard what they said."

"Then you know—"

"You're not going."

His voice left no room for argument.

Unfortunately for him—

I wasn't in the mood to obey.

"My sister is going to die."

"No."

"You can't guarantee that!"

His eyes darkened.

"No."

"Then let me go."

His expression became terrifying.

The hallway suddenly felt ten degrees colder.

"I said no."

The possessiveness in his voice shocked everyone.

Including me.

Roman studied him carefully.

The guards looked away.

Nobody wanted to be caught between us.

Unfortunately—

I didn't care.

For once.

Not even a little.

"They want me."

"They're using you."

"I know."

"You don't understand."

"No," I snapped. "You don't understand."

Silence.

The words hung between us.

Sharp.

Painful.

My eyes burned.

Fear.

Anger.

Desperation.

Everything mixed together.

"She's my sister."

Alessio stared at me.

I stared back.

Neither of us moved.

Neither of us looked away.

Then—

his phone rang.

The sound shattered the moment.

Everyone froze.

Unknown number.

Alessio answered immediately.

"Talk."

Silence.

Then his face changed.

The color drained from it.

Not fear.

Worse.

Recognition.

Pure recognition.

Whoever was on the line—

he knew them.

Very well.

I watched his expression carefully.

And suddenly realized something horrifying.

The caller wasn't Russian.

The caller wasn't a stranger.

The caller was someone from his past.

Someone dangerous.

Someone powerful.

Then Alessio spoke.

Only four words.

Four words that made Roman go pale.

Four words that made every guard in the hallway look terrified.

Four words that made my blood run cold.

Because they revealed the identity of the person who had Bianca.

Alessio tightened his grip on the phone and whispered:

"You should be dead."

The voice on the other end laughed.

And Alessio's face went completely white.