Chapter 4 - The Bodyguard Who Was Paid to Betray Him
Carlo DeLuca had known Damian for eighteen years.
They had survived wars together.
They had buried friends together.
They had broken rivals together.
Carlo was the only man Damian had ever trusted with his life without hesitation.
That was why Damian never suspected him.
Until Friday morning.
At 5:17 a.m., Lena woke Damian.
“There’s movement downstairs.”
He stood beside the bed.
“How many?”
“Three.”
He put on a jacket.
“Where?”
“Garage.”
They moved silently through the corridor.
Damian crouched behind a pillar.
Lena stayed beside him.
Three men entered the garage.
One was Carlo.
The other two were strangers.
Damian felt a cold weight in his chest.
Carlo handed them a folder.
“Everything is ready.”
One man asked, “And Russo?”
“Still believes he’s safe.”
Damian closed his eyes.
For a second, he wanted to step out.
Confront him.
Kill him.
Instead Lena touched his arm.
“Wait.”
Carlo continued.
“He’ll be transported to the clinic at eight.”
“Good.”
“And Vivian?”
“She wants him alive until the trust transfers.”
The words hit Damian harder than any bullet.
Lena looked at him.
Damian's jaw tightened.
The strangers left.
Carlo remained.
He pulled out his phone.
“Damian knows.”
Damian stepped into the light.
Carlo turned white.
“You should have told me yourself.”
Carlo lowered the phone.
“Damian—”
“Why?”
“It wasn't supposed to happen like this.”
“You sold my route.”
Carlo looked at the floor.
“Yes.”
The silence was unbearable.
“Why?”
“My daughter.”
Damian said nothing.
“Vivian has her.”
Damian's eyes hardened.
“What?”
“She kidnapped her three weeks ago.”
Carlo’s voice broke.
“She said if I didn't cooperate, my daughter would disappear.”
Damian slowly walked toward him.
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Who has her?”
“Vivian.”
Damian stared at him.
“Bring me proof.”
Carlo nodded.
“I will.”
Then a gunshot echoed.
Carlo collapsed.
Lena screamed.
A sniper bullet had entered through the garage window.
Damian pulled Lena behind cover.
“Stay down!”
He reached for the fallen weapon.
Another bullet shattered glass.
Then silence.
Damian rushed to Carlo.
Blood covered his chest.
Carlo grabbed his sleeve.
“She knows about the girl.”
“Where?”
“Old textile mill.”
“Which one?”
“Westbrook.”
His hand fell.
Damian looked at Lena.
“We’re going.”
“No.”
He turned.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not going alone.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“So is leaving me here.”
He stared at her.
“You are a maid.”
Lena's eyes sharpened.
“And you're a fake cripple.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Damian laughed.
It was the first real laugh she had heard from him.
“Fine.”
They left together.
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What Damian did not know was that Vivian had already anticipated this.
And at Westbrook Mill, someone was waiting.
