Chapter 4 Change In Plans

• ENRICO
• Fifteen years.
• That’s how long I’d waited. Fifteen years tracking down every single one of them, every name, every face. I made sure they paid for what they stole from me.
• Tonight was supposed to be the last job. I pictured it a hundred times: standing in that quiet house, watching Euan’s family beg for mercy, seeing his eyes fill with horror as I ended them one by one by burning holes into their heads.
• It would have been perfect revenge.
• But when I got there, the bodies were already on the floor, riddled with bullets. Cold, empty shells. Someone else beat me to it. I stood in the doorway, rage twisting in my gut. They’d taken my moment away.
• Then I saw her.
• She was small and pale under the hallway light, frozen in shock.
• Nadia, Euan Wallace’s daughter. I’d memorized her face from old photos: soft eyes, a worried frown. I felt a rush of triumph and fury. She survived? Fine. I’d make her suffer.
• I closed the distance fast. She tried to pull away, eyes wide, but her feet stuck in place. She fought, kicking and pulling, but I was stronger. Every tug of her hair, every gasp she made, pushed my anger higher.
• I grabbed my pistol and fired at the car window beside her. The glass exploded, and she yelped. She went silent after that, trembling like a scared animal. Perfect.
• Outside, the night air hit my face as I shoved her into the back seat of my car. She fell to the floor, hands bound behind her, nose bleeding from the glass shards. She didn’t scream. She didn’t beg. She just stared at me with that scared look. I liked that.
• I needed time to think, still.
• I texted Rio immediately, while still thinking of what my next action would be, that was why I locked her in the barn.
• Moments later, I went in there to drag her out and then toss her back into my car. We were going to my place.
• By the time we pulled into my driveway, Rio was waiting. My right-hand man, always sharp in a suit and steel-eyed. He glanced at Nadia, then back at me. No questions. He knew better than to ask.
• “Get Richie on the phone,” I ordered.
• Rio pulled out his phone and tapped hard on the screen. I hauled her into the house and down the hall. She tried to peek back at me, pleading silently. I shoved her into the panic room at the end of the basement hall and locked the door behind us.
• The panic room was small and bare, just metal walls and a heavy door. She fell against the far wall, back sliding down until she sat in a heap. Her hair stuck to her sweaty face. Fear radiated off her in waves. I closed the door and leaned my shoulder against the steel.
• Moments later, Rio knocked and slid the speakerphone under the crack.
• “Richie,” I growled into the line as I left the room and began pacing the narrow hallway. “Explain how they were already dead.”
• There was a long pause. Richie was calm under pressure, always thorough. Finally he spoke. “I don’t know, boss. The intel was clear: Euan would be home tonight with Raffiel Bianchi. It was the perfect window to hit them.”
• “Then someone else got there first,” I snapped.
• “Looks like it,” Richie admitted. “Another group must’ve wanted them gone.”
• I ran a hand through my hair. “Great. So now I’ve got nothing but a kid to work with.”
• “She’s alive?” Luci sounded surprised.
• “Yeah,” I said. “Unharmed. Hid upstairs, probably heard the shots and froze.”
• There was silence on the line. I heard Richie breathe.
• “Unfortunate for her,” he finally said. “Prepare her for interrogation?”
• “No,” I said flatly. “Not yet. I want to break her first. Slowly.”
• Richie hesitated. I could tell he wanted to argue. But I hung up before he could. Rio pocketed the phone without a word.
• I went straight to my office. Getting there, I quickly lit a cigarette and walked to the window, the smoke curling into the night.
• I watched the courtyard beyond the glass.
• Dark rows of grasses fading into moonlit shadows.
• Nadia was in my basement, alone and terrified. And I was ready to make her pay.
• Why her?
• Because she was the last piece. The only living Wallace. Euan’s son was younger, barely out of his teens when all this started. Innocent. I did my research and I might’ve spared him.
• But Nadia… She was born when Euan crossed me. She belonged to them. And she’d live long enough to be aware of what I lost.
• I stubbed out the cigarette and headed downstairs. The basement light was low, a single bulb swinging gently. Nadia sat on the cold floor, knees drawn to her chest, eyes red. When I stepped in, she didn’t raise her head. She couldn’t.
• I knelt down in front of her, close enough to see the flecks of dirt on her cheeks. “You know why you’re here,” I said.
• She shook her head, hair falling over her eyes. A small sob escaped her lips.
• I reached out and brushed the hair away, leaving my fingers against her temple. She flinched. “You might not have watched your family die, but you did see their dead bodies,” I reminded her. “And tonight you die too, you will join them. Just not yet.”
• Terror shuddered through her. Her eyes met mine, wide and pleading. I felt a twist of power, a satisfaction so sweet it burned.
• I stood and backed away. “Rest now,” I said. “Tomorrow, we start.”
• Then I turned and walked up the stairs. The door clanged shut behind me. I leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm the storm in my chest.
• I thought of the years I spent chasing ghosts. The long nights of planning, the endless waiting. Everything had led to this moment, to her. I wasn’t sure how I’d hurt her yet, what games I’d play to break her spirit. But I’d find a way.
• Because this time, I had to feel the rage. I had to make her feel it too.
• And when I was done, when she’d begged me to end it all, I’d pull the trigger myself.
• Because after fifteen years, I deserved that.