Chapter 65: Taken Without a Trace
In the rush of being shoved into the backseat, his hand swiped against his pocket. His phone tumbled out, hitting the pavement with a sharp crack just as the van door slammed shut.
The engines roared, and the vans sped off.
The street fell silent again.
His phone lay on the pavement, the screen flickering once... then went dark.
A few minutes later, Matteo’s car pulled up outside Adrian’s studio.
The engine hadn’t even fully stopped before his eyes scanned the entrance.
Adrian wasn’t there.
A slight frown touched his face.
He pulled out his phone and called.
It rang.
No answer.
"Maybe he’s still upstairs," Matteo muttered, already reaching for the door.
The bodyguard stepped out quickly and opened it for him.
Matteo got out, dialing again—
One of the guards glanced around, then his gaze dropped to the ground.
"Boss, look at this," the guard said, pointing at the asphalt.
Heavy tire scuffs and fresh skid marks scarred the ground, signs of a violent, rushed exit.
Matteo dialed Adrian immediately.
It rang.
No answer.
Then—
A few feet away, something glinted under the streetlights.
Harry’s gaze snapped toward it.
He walked over and picked it up.
The screen was shattered, the casing scraped.
Harry walked back and handed the phone to Matteo.
"This is Adrian’s phone," Matteo said, staring at the cracked screen as the realization settled in. "Something’s wrong. He wouldn’t just drop this."
The guards moved quickly, securing the area and scanning for anyone who might have seen something.
Matteo didn’t move.
For the first time in years, his hands trembled.
A tight pressure built in his chest.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a trembling flame.
Matteo gave a short order. "Go upstairs and check his studio. See if he’s still there."
"Yes, boss," the guards replied before moving immediately.
A few minutes later, they returned.
"He’s not there," one of them said.
Matteo didn’t react at first. He just stood there, a cigarette between his fingers as smoke curled slowly into the air. His expression didn’t change, but something about him did.
No one moved closer.
Harry and the veteran guards kept their distance.
Matteo took a slow drag, his mind already working. He ran through names, faces, and possibilities, every rival, every unfinished business, every person who could have a reason.
He had been careful since returning. He had kept things clean, avoided unnecessary trouble, and stayed out of anything that could bring attention.
So who would dare?
He waited, expecting a ransom call, a threat, anything. But the phone stayed silent. No one called.
Finally, Matteo stepped back into the car, his bodyguards following suit.
"Drive. Now."
As the engine came to life, Matteo dialed Mark.
Mark picked up almost immediately.
Matteo didn’t waste time. He told him everything, the tire marks, Adrian’s phone... and the feeling that something was very wrong.
There was a brief silence on the other end before Mark spoke.
"Matteo, listen to me," Mark said. "I haven’t seen Tony leave his room all day. I’ve been watching. Don’t do anything reckless yet. Just come back to the house so we can figure this out."
"I’m on my way," Matteo said.
When the car pulled into the estate, Matteo didn’t wait for it to fully stop. He stepped out while it was still rolling and stormed into the house, his coat trailing behind him.
Mark was already waiting for him, but Matteo walked straight past without a word, heading directly toward the wing where Tony was recovering.
"Matteo—calm down," Mark called after him.
He kicked the door open, the wood slamming against the wall with a deafening bang. Tony sat up, surprise flashing across his face.
"Where is he?" Matteo roared, stalking toward the bed. "Tell me where you sent him!"
Tony blinked, his expression shifting from shock to confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Matteo shouted. "Don’t play dumb. Tony. Adrian’s been kidnapped, so tell me, where did you take him?"
Tony’s expression hardened. "What does that have to do with me? I haven’t left this house. How could I possibly kidnap anyone?"
"Don’t lie to me!" Matteo snarled, grabbing Tony by the shoulder, ignoring the bandage.
"You didn’t have to leave the house, we both know how this works. You give the order. You hire the muscle."
His voice dropped.
"You didn’t pull the trigger yourself at the villa, and you didn’t have to be at the studio today either. If you could send someone to kill him, then you could send someone to take him."
Tony looked Matteo directly in the eye, his gaze steady despite the fury he was facing. He slowly shook his head.
"I know you hate me right now, Matteo, but I had nothing to do with this," Tony said. "I didn’t do it. I haven’t made any calls, haven’t contacted anyone. Believe it or not... I’m not part of this."
Matteo’s grip tightened on Tony’s shoulder for a final second before he shoved him back against the pillows. His eyes were cold, stripped of any trace of the brotherhood they once shared.
Matteo stared at him, "If it turns out you had anything to do with this," he said quietly, "I swear, Tony... I’ll kill you myself."
He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Mark followed close behind, struggling to keep up with his pace.
"Teo, stop—just stop for a second," Mark urged as they reached the living room. "We need to think. We have to wait for a call or a message. If it’s ransom or a move for power, they’ll reach out."
Matteo spun around, his face pale with a mix of fury and fear. "You don’t get it! He’s going to be scared, Mark. So scared. He’s not part of this world. He doesn’t know how to survive people like us."
Matteo paced the living room, his breathing uneven. Every second pressed down on him. His eyes kept returning to the shattered phone in his hand, his mind replaying the moment it dropped, the moment Adrian was taken.
Mark opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. He looked at his brother and realized Matteo wasn’t thinking like himself anymore, he was unraveling.
"Calm down, Teo," Mark said, even though he knew it was the one thing Matteo couldn’t do.
Matteo didn’t respond. He stood by the window, staring out into the darkness of the estate, waiting... for a call, for headlights at the gate, for any sign that Adrian was still alive.
Hours bled into the night, but the silence remained unbroken. Matteo made call after call, his voice growing hoarse with every dead end.
Harry and the security team worked frantically, calling every contact and digging for information, but nothing came up.
The house stayed awake with him.
No one dared to rest.
Every passing minute stretched the tension tighter, heavier, suffocating.
Still, no call.
By midnight, the tension in the living room was suffocating. Matteo turned to his men, his eyes bloodshot. "Go. Get some rest."
No one moved. The bodyguards stood still, their faces marked with concern for the man they served. Mark remained where he was, his chest tight as he watched his brother, the uncertainty around Adrian weighing heavily on him.
Down the hall, Tony stayed in his room. Whatever was happening... it wasn’t his concern.