Chapter 157
"Send me the exact location. Now," Vincenzo ordered into the phone, his voice firm and icy, as if he were back in command of a troop.
He hung up without waiting for an answer and turned to the van driver who had barely left the airport.
"Go back. Now. Follow this route." He nodded, as if the simple order were enough.
"Wait," I said, trying to sound calm, even as my heart hammered in my chest, "we need to rest, Vincenzo. You more than anyone here. We just got back from a sixteen-hour trip. You're not going to make it like this."
He looked at me, his eyes so dark and tense they almost made me swallow my words.
"I won't rest while my son is in the hands of those bastards."
I took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in my throat. I understood. And that hurt even more.
The driver didn't hesitate. He made a U-turn at the first opportunity and accelerated, as if he knew exactly where to go.
Vincenzo leaned back in his seat, his cell phone in hand. His fingers trembled a little, but he didn't show it. I knew his body was screaming for a break, but his mind… had already crossed the line into the impossible.
The phone vibrated again. It was the same agent who had called on the jet. Vincenzo answered immediately.
"How far are you from the location?" asked the man on the other end.
"Heading in the right direction, but it'll still take a while," Vincenzo replied. "What else did you see?"
"Nothing major. But maybe when you get here, you'll recognize someone. You can try to make a deal." The agent spoke in a tense tone, as if he knew there was no room for error.
"I didn't make deals with the East. That was Veronica's job," he said coldly. "I've never met any of the people involved. So, no. I won't recognize anyone."
From the backseat, Nancy leaned forward slightly, her voice low but firm.
"Vincenzo?"
He turned his head, still holding the phone to his ear.
"I have a bad feeling," she said slowly. "We're going straight to where Rafael is, right?"
He nodded, frowning.
"That means the Yakuza already know we're going to him."
"Makes sense," I murmured, feeling a shiver run down my spine.
But then Nancy looked at the driver and spoke again. And what she said knocked the breath from my lungs:
"What doesn't make sense... is how the driver knows exactly where we're going... if you haven't shown the location to anyone."
The silence that filled the van was suffocating. I could even hear Nancy's quickening breathing beside me. Vincenzo, still holding the phone to his ear, turned slowly, facing the driver through the rearview mirror. His gaze was the kind of gaze that stopped time.
"I asked you something, Vincenzo," Nancy insisted, her voice firmer now. "Did you show anyone the location?"
He shook his head slowly.
"No. I just asked him to turn around."
That's when it hit me. I looked at the driver. He continued driving with a strange calm, as if he didn't have a van full of panicked people about to explode on top of him.
Vincenzo hung up the phone. Slowly, he reached for his seatbelt and unbuckled it. His shoulders tensed, his jaw clenched.
"Stop the car. Now."
The driver pretended not to hear.
"I said stop this damn car!" Vincenzo yelled, completely losing control for the first time.
One of the security guards next to us was already drawing his gun, but before anything could happen, the driver slammed on the brakes. The van jolted so hard I was nearly thrown back into the front seat.
"Everyone out!" Vincenzo ordered, yanking the door open.
Security officers surrounded the van in seconds, drawing their guns and aiming directly at the driver, who now looked nervous for the first time.
I got out of the van trembling, my heart hammering in my chest.
"Who gave you the location?" Vincenzo asked, approaching slowly, like a predator about to pounce.
The driver raised his hands, his voice cracking.
"I… I just got the automatic route from the system. I don't know anything, I swear. I just got the route from the van's dashboard and followed it."
"That's bullshit." Nancy crossed her arms. "The van's system only gets the route when someone manually inputs it. The van is armored and monitored. No one sends an 'automatic' route like that."
"Are you working with them?" I asked, feeling my throat close.
The driver's eyes widened, but before he could respond, one of the security guards shouted:
"Vincenzo! Back of the van, now!"
We all ran to the back, where the trunk was still open. A small device was stuck to the inside of the truck. It was some kind of tracker, but with a flashing light that indicated something worse.
Nancy was the first to notice.
"This isn't just a tracker... it's a signal transmitter. They know exactly where we are. In real time."
Vincenzo angrily yanked the device away and He threw it to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his shoe. The sharp crack of metal breaking echoed loudly in the silent Japanese early morning air.
"We've fallen into a trap," he murmured, and the tension spread like wildfire.
Before anyone could react, gunshots rang out in the distance. Three. Four. Then silence.
And then, screams.
Someone was coming.
And I wasn't supposed to talk.
I was scared. The kind of fear that catches your breath and makes your heart beat like a racing drum. But unlike before, I didn't freeze. I didn't cry. I didn't hide behind anyone. Life with Vincenzo taught me that the world can turn upside down in the blink of an eye... and that we have two options: run or resist. And in that moment, even with adrenaline burning inside, I knew exactly what to do. I would resist. For him. For Rafael. And for myself too. Because I wasn't the same anymore.
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