Chapter 8 - The Last Hunt
The photograph had been taken from across the street.
It showed Isabella standing outside our new house.
She had been there less than ten minutes.
That meant Thomas was close.
We evacuated immediately.
Security teams secured the property.
Police joined the investigation.
But I refused to turn Isabella into a prisoner.
She insisted on helping.
“I know how he thinks.”
She was right.
Thomas wanted control.
He wanted fear.
He wanted me to make one reckless move.
So we gave him exactly the opposite.
We staged a false departure.
Three vehicles left the mansion.
One contained a decoy.
Another carried security.
Isabella and I left through a hidden route.
We drove to the old Rossi warehouse.
It was the one place Thomas would expect me to avoid.
Inside, we waited.
At midnight, a gunshot echoed.
Then another.
The building's lights failed.
I grabbed Isabella.
“Stay behind me.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“I know you want to protect me.”
“I want to protect myself.”
She was right.
I handed her a flashlight.
We moved through the darkness.
Thomas appeared on the upper walkway.
He was holding a weapon.
“Luca.”
I stepped forward.
“This ends tonight.”
“No.”
He laughed.
“This ends when you admit you caused this.”
I stared.
“Caused what?”
“She wouldn't have been taken if you'd driven her home.”
That sentence hurt because it was true.
But I wouldn't allow him to use truth as a weapon.
“You're right.”
Thomas looked surprised.
“I should have driven her home.”
I continued.
“I should have listened.”
“I should have chosen my wife over my pride.”
“And I live with that.”
Thomas's smile faded.
“But none of that gives you the right to hurt her.”
The warehouse fell silent.
Thomas looked toward Isabella.
“You really love him?”
She answered:
“Yes.”
“After everything?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head.
“You're making a mistake.”
Isabella took my hand.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“My mistake was believing I had no choice.”
Police sirens approached.
Thomas turned.
“You called them.”
“Of course.”
He raised the weapon.
I moved.
The shot went wide.
Thomas ran.
We chased him toward the river.
He reached the edge.
Police surrounded him.
There was nowhere to go.
He looked at me.
“You could have been great.”
I answered:
“I'd rather be good enough.”
He laughed bitterly.
Then he dropped the weapon.
He was arrested.
The Circle finally collapsed.
The investigations lasted months.
People were prosecuted.
Companies were dismantled.
Families learned truths they'd never expected to hear.
The Rossi name survived.
But it became something different.
Legitimate.
Open.
Ordinary.
And for the first time, I wanted ordinary.
Months later, Isabella and I returned to our house.
The front door was repaired.
The garden had been replanted.
She stood in the foyer.
“Does it feel different?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because you're here.”
She smiled.
We celebrated quietly that night.
No bodyguards at the dinner table.
No secret meetings.
No weapons.
Just food, music, and laughter.
Then Isabella handed me a small envelope.
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
Inside was a photograph.
An ultrasound.
I stared.
Then looked at her.
“Is this…”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
I sat down.
She laughed.
“You look terrified.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I've never been responsible for anything this important.”
She smiled.
“You've been responsible for me.”
“No.”
I stood and took her hand.
“You were never mine to be responsible for.”
She looked at me.
“You finally learned.”
“I did.”
She placed my hand against her stomach.
“We're going to be parents.”
May you like
For once, the future didn't scare me.
It felt like a promise.
