Claimed by the Mafia Boss

8. The Fury and the Smoke

*VINCENZO*

The meeting room felt stifling, as if the weight of my frustrations bore down on the air itself. I glanced at the faces around the long mahogany table, their expressions a mix of anticipation and ignorance. The flickering light overhead cast shadows on their features, outlining the tension that was mounting like a summer storm. It was almost surreal, sitting there—me, Vincenzo, in the eye of chaos, while my thoughts were spiraling far away from what should have been a simple discussion about Orlando De Luca and his movements in the murky underbelly of our world.

"Vincenzo," Jesse said, leaning forward, confidence radiating from her like the subtle scent of cigar smoke. My most trusted ally, the Phantom club owner, had been gathering intel on De Luca. She had this way of making you feel like you were the only one in a crowded room, and I appreciated her enthusiasm. But at that moment, I could hardly hear her over the roaring tempest inside my mind. I nodded, feigning interest, as if I were anything but a coiled spring ready to explode.

I wanted to dive into the intricacies of De Luca's plans, dissect every small detail, and use the information to my advantage, but all I could think about was Adeline. My heart thudded in my chest as the image of her slipping out of the villa played on a loop in my mind. How could they not have noticed? I had entrusted my men with her safety, a task that felt sacred, and they failed. They were not just my subordinates; they were family. The very foundation of my power rested on our loyalty to one another, and right now, that foundation was wobbling.

"Vincenzo?" Jesse's voice pulled me back. "I believe De Luca is planning a move on the north side. We should strike first—"

"Strike first?" I interjected, my voice sharper than intended. The room fell quiet, and a few pairs of eyes widened, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. "Do you think Orlando will simply sit by and watch? He's a cunning bastard." I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to rein in the simmering anger. I wasn't angry at Jesse; I was furious at the whole damn situation. "We need more information, not just speculation. Who else is with him? What are his resources?"

Jesse nodded slowly, her gaze unwavering. "I have men keeping tabs on his associates. But Vincenzo, I understand your concern about Adeline, but we can't let personal matters cloud our judgment."

There it was—the bitter truth, dangling in the air like a knife's edge. My emotions were strangling logic. Adeline was not just a personal matter; she was the embodiment of my past, twisted like a vine around my conscience. The betrayal of Orlando and the destruction it wrought had already cost me too much. I could already see the smirk on his face—the way he loved to play with fire, knowing it would burn everything in its path.

"Nobody should be wandering the villa unguarded, Jesse!" I raised my voice, expertly masking the actual tsunami of wrath swirling within me. "That was negligence, and negligence leads to disaster."

The silence slithered through the room, my subordinates shifting uncomfortably in their seats. I was furious, and I was determined not to show it. It was a matter of pride—of control. Anger was a fire, and fire could consume. If I let it rage unchecked, I'd lose sight of my goal.

"I'll deal with it," I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to anyone else. The meeting, this exchange of information, would only take me deeper down a rabbit hole of speculation while Adeline was out there, unaware of the danger she put herself in. I could already imagine the chaos that would ensue should De Luca get a whiff of her. She was no ordinary woman; she was fierce yet vulnerable, unaware of the tidal wave of danger that trailed behind her like a shadow.

"Jesse, continue. Find out what you can about the movements in the north," I finally said, forcing my voice to steady while my brain screamed for action. I pushed the anger aside and summoned that cold focus I was known for. The room regained its composure as she launched into her observations, but I could hardly absorb the words—the pictures formed flashes of Adeline, the crisp scent of her hair mingling with the cold air as she stepped outside.

Jesse's voice reverberated in the background, and I caught snatches of words: "Dealers … whom he trusts … clandestine meetings …" My imagination painted a nightmare scenario. Orlando had always been unpredictable, and I didn't want to stack chances against my most precious alliances.

I had to get Adeline back, and get her back now.

"Chuck and Pilar," I said briskly, cutting off Jesse mid-sentence. "Gather teams and search every inch of the club. She must be here somewhere."

They looked at me, surprise, heartening confusion in their eyes. "Vincenzo, are you certain—"

"Now!" I bellowed, feeling the urgency surge through my veins. I was done playing games. Marcus was with her, but she was still in danger. De Luca would not take another person from me without consequence. The fear of loss tightened my chest as I rose from my seat, the table now a barrier I had no intention of honoring.

Even as my men sprang into action, my mind was already racing. Adeline had walked out unprotected, and I felt suffocated by a sense of betrayal I could only attribute to Orlando. Yes, he had once been a friend—back when trust meant something, back when life was uncomplicated—but now? Now he was a rival, and I wouldn't let him destroy everything I cared about.

Somehow, I needed to draw strength from this storm within. I balled my fingers into fists, the anger still seething like molten lava, but now it ignited a different fire. I would not lose this fight, not to him, and certainly not when I had so much to protect.

"Go!"

Soon, the room emptied, and I was left alone with my thoughts, the silence swallowing the echoes of their hurried footsteps. I needed to devise a plan not only to protect Adeline but to settle the score with Orlando—and when I found him, I would make him understand that crossing me would cost him everything.

And therein lay the path forward—swift, relentless, and unwavering—because losing was not an option. The only way out was through, and I would be damned if I let anyone stand in my way.