“Pack Your Things,” the Mafia Boss Snarled—By Midnight, His Wife Had Vanished Without a Trace
Chapter 2
Matteo returned at 12:16 a.m.
He entered the mansion alone.
Rainwater ran from his coat onto the marble floor.
“Lucio.”
His bodyguard hurried toward him.
“Boss.”
“Where is Elena?”
Lucio hesitated.
Matteo stopped.
“What?”
“She isn’t here.”
For three seconds, Matteo said nothing.
Then he ran upstairs.
The bedroom door stood open.
Elena’s wardrobe was nearly empty.
Her jewelry was gone.
Her documents were missing.
The window was unlocked.
Matteo’s breathing became shallow.
“Search the house.”
Men scattered.
He entered the bedroom and saw the silver key still sitting on the dresser.
His hand closed around it.
“No.”
Lucio appeared behind him.
“The cameras?”
“Disabled.”
“By whom?”
“We’re checking.”
Matteo looked toward the bed.
Elena’s wedding ring lay on the pillow.
He stared at it.
She had never removed it.
Not once.
Something was terribly wrong.
“Find her.”
“We will.”
“Not tomorrow.”
Matteo turned.
“Now.”
Lucio nodded.
Within minutes, every road leaving the estate was being searched.
Cars stopped.
Hotels checked.
Train stations watched.
Ports sealed.
But Elena had disappeared as if the earth had swallowed her.
Matteo returned to the bedroom.
On the dresser, beneath the key, he found a folded piece of paper.
His heart stopped.
He opened it.
Only six words were written.
You told me to leave. I listened.
Matteo sank onto the edge of the bed.
For the first time in years, the most feared man in the city looked completely helpless.
Because Elena had misunderstood him.
He hadn’t sent her away because he no longer loved her.
He had sent her away because three hours earlier, one of his most trusted men had been found dead.
Beside the body was a photograph.
Elena.
Taken outside the mansion.
On the back, someone had written:
MIDNIGHT.
Matteo had spent years believing he could protect the people he loved by controlling everything around them.
Tonight, he had discovered the opposite.
Someone had gotten inside his walls.
Someone had been watching his wife.
And now she was gone.
Lucio rushed into the room.
“Boss.”
Matteo looked up.
“We found her car.”
“Where?”
“Two miles from the eastern road.”
“Is she inside?”
Lucio shook his head.
“No.”
“What did you find?”
Lucio’s face was grim.
“Blood.”
Matteo stood.
“Whose?”
“We don’t know.”
Then Lucio handed him a small piece of black fabric.
Matteo recognized it instantly.
It came from the coat Elena had been wearing that evening.
His expression turned murderous.
“Lock down the city.”
