His Villain

56

The realization of her worst fear, the deprivation of her motherhood, had come true. A seething fury coursed through her senses, leaving her pale and weak. The drug injected by Venezio had rendered her body and mind numb. Shuddering breaths escaped her lips as her droopy eyes struggled to stay open, evidence of her lack of control over her own system.

Ten agonizing hours had passed, but it felt like an eternity. Her heart twisted with pain and apprehension, consumed by thoughts of her child. Inizio, what would happen to him? Would he suffer because of her actions? No, he couldn't. Inizio was Venezio's own blood, just like Dalia and Delrico. Yet Venezio's dominance had controlled their lives, his rules unchallenged and unbroken, whether it was his siblings or not.

Venezio knew that Celia feared nothing except when it came to her child. Inizio was her weak point, and he knew it well.

Her vision remained blurred, her mind hazy. No one had entered her cell during those long hours, not even Venezio himself. Locked away, she could barely stand on her feet for more than a few seconds before her knees buckled, sending her crashing to the cold concrete floor.

It was not a mistake; it was a sin. The first and greatest sin she had committed since becoming an agent. She had failed to erase the existence of Venezio D'Amico Cassano, to destroy his empire when she had the chance. An intentional mistake that could destroy the lives of millions, and she couldn't find a way to make it right, yet.

What was the mistake she deliberately made? Planning a war against Venezio on her own, excluding the other agents from her plan. She had known that Venezio was aware of her identity as an agent, but he had no idea she was the leader. She had managed to track down a few of his newly established bases within twenty-two days, just to make them believe that she still isn't aware of their alliance and business like others and wants to destroy Venezio Just like them.

Now she not only had to face Venezio's wrath but also the government's. She has to remain precluded from unmasking any involved party until such time as she confronts the opposing pawn on the chessboard, a task she reserved for herself, to unveil his vulnerability.

According to her prior plan Venezio was supposed to be arrested, his mansion was meant to burn down that day and the annihilation of his illicit business. The bomb had been planted, but it had failed to detonate. And she was acutely aware of the reason behind this failure.

This entire endeavor, driven by the imperative to safeguard a solitary life, stemmed from her identification of a flaw in the existence and stratagem of the individual who had sanctioned her the authority to dismantle and expose Venezio's criminal syndicate. Yet, this very endeavor had inadvertently sundered the serenity of countless others amidst the throes of a perilous conflict. "Oh God, what did I do?" she rasped under her breath, her exasperation palpable as her fingers clenched her hair. Waves of contrition and disgrace surged through her emotional core.

It was not difficult for her to guess where Dante and Warren had been all these years-in Venezio's captivity. And she rued her failure to extend assistance, an omission orchestrated as a spectacle aimed at the adversary's pawn arrayed against her.

Slow footsteps echoed in the corridor, and Celia tensed, her apprehension on high alert. But the footsteps receded, leaving her puzzled about Venezio's next move.

Suddenly, the metal door of her cell swung open, revealing a guard. No one entered for the first minute, but then the scent of Venezio's earthy cologne filled the air as he stepped in. His calm grey eyes never left her intense black gaze. In his left hand, he held a file, his suit jacket removed, and his black shirt meticulously tucked into his pants. Three buttons on his shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of his structured tattooed chest, while the rolled-up sleeves showcased his tattooed arm.