Seventy Nine

Chapter 79

The dim light in the warehouse flickered, casting long shadows across the cold cement floor. Antonio stood near a stack of crates, his fingers brushing the edge of his jacket. He motioned for Ben to approach. Ben stepped forward cautiously, sensing the weight of the conversation that was about to take place.

“Ben,” Antonio began, his voice low but firm. “I need your honest opinion. What do you think about today’s situation?”

Ben’s brow furrowed. He had always been loyal to Antonio, not just as a secretary but as someone who deeply understood the complexities of Antonio’s world. “Sir, with all due respect, it’s not the situation itself that worries me.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “It’s you.”

Antonio raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not offended. “Go on.”

Ben took a deep breath. “You’ve changed, Antonio. Ever since Cassandra came into your life, your priorities have shifted. It’s understandable, but it’s also dangerous. You’re putting her above everything else, even the business. If you’re not careful, it could cost us dearly.”

Antonio’s expression hardened momentarily but then softened. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek silver cigarette case. Taking out a cigarette, he lit it with a smooth motion, the flicker of the flame illuminating his face.

“Ben,” he said after exhaling a plume of smoke, “Cassandra is carrying my child. That changes everything.”

Ben’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I understand that, but it’s also clouding your judgment. This isn’t like you. You’ve always been sharp, focused. Now…” He trailed off, his concern evident.

Antonio leaned against the crate, the cigarette dangling between his fingers. “Do you remember Claire?” he asked, his tone almost nostalgic.

Ben hesitated. “Yes. She was… complicated.”

Antonio’s lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. “Claire and I had our moments, but it was never real. Not like this. Cassandra is different. She’s strong, resilient. And she’s carrying my child. That’s not something I can ignore.”

“But Cassandra,” Ben began cautiously, “approached you with a purpose. You know that. She wanted revenge for her parents’ deaths. Are you certain she’s changed? That her motives aren’t the same?”

Antonio’s eyes narrowed slightly, his voice dropping. “I’m not a fool, Ben. I know why she came to me. But people change. Circumstances change. She’s under my protection now, and she’s carrying my child. Whatever her intentions were before, they’ve shifted.”

Ben’s skepticism was evident, but he refrained from pressing further. “I hope you’re right, Antonio. For all our sakes.”

Antonio extinguished his cigarette, crushing it under his polished shoe. He straightened, his commanding presence returning. “Trust me, Ben. I know what I’m doing. Focus on the tasks at hand. Thomas needs to be dealt with, and I won’t let anything jeopardize what we’ve built.”

Ben nodded, though doubt lingered in his eyes. “As you wish, sir.”

The conversation weighed heavily on Ben as he returned to his duties. Antonio, on the other hand, felt a sense of clarity. Cassandra’s presence in his life was both a blessing and a complication, but he was determined to protect her and their unborn child.

At the estate, Cassandra sat by the window in her room, her hands cradling a steaming cup of tea. Alexander’s message replayed in her mind. She had agreed to meet him, but the thought of betraying Antonio’s trust gnawed at her. Was she doing the right thing? Or was she walking into a trap of her own making?

The quiet hum of the estate’s surroundings did little to ease her turmoil. She glanced down at her phone, tempted to send a message to Alexander to cancel the meeting. Yet something compelled her to face him. Perhaps answers. Or closure.

At the warehouse, the tension was palpable. Antonio’s men moved with purpose, each action precise and deliberate. Marcus approached Antonio with the latest report.

“Sir, we’ve received intel that Thomas was spotted near the old docks. Our team is en route.”

Antonio nodded, his mind already calculating the next steps. “Good. Keep me updated. If he’s there, I want him brought in alive.”

Marcus hesitated. “What if he resists?”

Antonio’s gaze turned cold. “Make sure he can still talk when you’re done.”

The men dispersed, leaving Antonio momentarily alone. He reached into his pocket for another cigarette, the motion almost mechanical. Lighting it, he allowed himself a rare moment of reflection. Cassandra’s face appeared in his mind, a mix of strength and vulnerability. She was his Achilles’ heel, and he knew it.

The phone in his pocket buzzed, pulling him back to reality. He glanced at the screen. It was a message from one of his men at the docks:

“Target spotted. Awaiting your orders.”

Antonio’s eyes darkened. He crushed the half-smoked cigarette and slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Time to end this,” he muttered to himself, striding toward the exit.

The old docks were shrouded in mist, the air thick with the scent of salt and decay. Antonio’s convoy arrived silently, the vehicles blending into the shadows. He stepped out, his eyes scanning the desolate area. Marcus approached him, his hand resting on the weapon at his side.

“He’s inside the warehouse at the far end,” Marcus reported.

Antonio nodded. “Surround the perimeter. No one gets in or out without my permission.”

As his men moved into position, Antonio advanced toward the warehouse, his steps deliberate and unyielding. Inside, faint sounds of movement could be heard. Thomas was cornered, and he knew it.

Inside the dark, cold warehouse, Antonio’s footsteps echoed. Thomas stood in a corner, his face tense. A rickety wooden table sat in front of him, seemingly the only barrier between him and Antonio.

“Antonio,” Thomas’s voice trembled, but he tried to remain composed. “We can talk. There’s no need for violence.”

Antonio didn’t reply immediately. He stepped closer, his eyes sharp as knives. “Violence? You crossed that line, Thomas. You tried to kill me.”

Thomas swallowed hard, his hands trembling. “I had no choice. They forced me. I had to protect myself.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Antonio asked coldly, closing the distance until only a few steps separated him from Thomas.

Thomas hesitated, his eyes darting toward the door as if searching for an escape. But Antonio caught the movement and immediately recognized his intent. “Don’t even try,” Antonio said in a low, menacing voice.

Thomas finally crumbled, his shoulders slumping. “They’re people you know, Antonio. They want to bring you down. I’m just a pawn.”

Antonio’s eyes narrowed. “Who are they? Give me names.”

Thomas trembled. “I only know a few. They work behind the scenes. But I have notes…”

Antonio motioned to Marcus, who stepped forward and searched Thomas. From Thomas’s jacket pocket, Marcus retrieved a small notebook.

“Here it is, sir,” Marcus said, handing the notebook to Antonio.

Antonio opened it, his eyes scanning the pages filled with names and brief notes. His face grew darker as he read. “You’ve made a grave mistake, Thomas,” he said finally, closing the notebook.

Thomas pleaded. “Antonio, please. Give me a chance. I had no choice.”

“You always have a choice,” Antonio replied coldly. “And you made the wrong one.”

He motioned to his men. “Take him away. Make sure he can’t speak to anyone except me.”

Thomas struggled, but Antonio’s men quickly subdued him. His voice echoed in the warehouse as he was dragged out, begging for forgiveness that would never come.

As Antonio stepped out of the warehouse, the cold dock air hit his face. He stood for a moment, contemplating his next move. The notebook in his hand felt heavy, not because of its size but because of the information it contained.

Marcus approached. “What’s our next step, sir?”

Antonio exhaled, his eyes gazing into the darkness. “We’ll deal with them one by one. But first, we make sure everyone knows that no one can touch me without consequences.”

Marcus nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. “As you wish, sir.”

With measured steps, Antonio returned to his vehicle, his mind filled with plans to protect what was his—including Cassandra and their unborn child.