Ten hours

CHAPTER 6

Italy had its own atmosphere, other people described it as serene, romantic, a place where the air itself felt like art. But to Kaia, Italy was not scenic; it was not peaceful. It was a battleground. Every street felt like a trap, every shadow a threat, and every breath she took burned with the reminder of what was at stake.

She sat on the cold, polished floor of her hotel room, her back pressed against the bed frame as if she needed something solid to keep her from collapsing. Her eyes were swollen and red, not just from crying but from thinking, overthinking, until her mind felt bruised.

For a mother, this was the worst phase of her life, a chapter she had never imagined she would be forced to face. A phase she prayed she could escape from in one piece, without losing herself completely.

Sleep and rest had become luxuries she could no longer afford. Every passing second felt like a sweep in the desert, dry, scorching, and endless. Her body begged for rest, but her soul stayed wide awake in terror.

Her phone chimed suddenly.

The sharp sound sliced through the silence and jolted her upright, her heart knocking hard against her ribs. She reached for the phone with trembling fingers, afraid of what she would read next.

“Your task with Vittorio has begun. Do what you must concerning him, as no help will be given to you.”

She stared at the message, her mind repeating each word slowly, like her life depended on absorbing them correctly. And in a way, it did.

Then another text flashed onto the screen.

“You’ve got 10 hours to get information about him. Flop, and Kai starves throughout the night. No food. No water. He’ll definitely drink his tears.”

Kaia’s breath caught. Her vision blurred for a second.

Her heart didn’t just skip, it stumbled, then kicked into frantic overdrive.

Rodriguez.

He wasn’t joking. He never joked. He was not the type to bluff or threaten without intent. His mercilessness was infamous, whispered about in the criminal underworld like a nightmare people prayed never to meet. The government wanted him, chased him for years, but he slipped past them every time, untouchable, untamed, unstoppable.

And now the same man held Kaia in the palm of his hand, tied to him like a marionette.

A puppet mother dancing to keep her child alive.

Fear slithered down her spine as her phone buzzed again, this time with a video.

With trembling hands, she pressed play.

Kai appeared on the screen, curled up on a small kiddies’ mattress. He was sleeping peacefully, hugging the stuffed wolf she bought him on his last birthday. The room he was kept in was painted blue, decorated with cartoon characters hand-drawn along the wall as if someone wanted to imitate a nursery.

It looked too peaceful. Too clean. Too gentle for the cruelty behind it.

Her heart cracked painfully.

“His well-being is tied to your performance,” the message under the video read.

Of course she knew.

Rodriguez would never kill Kai….not yet. He needed the boy alive. Kai was the only rope binding her to his orders. But punishing him? Starving him? Torturing him emotionally? Oh, that he was capable of. That, he enjoyed.

Rodriguez once tortured a man so badly the victim begged for death. Rodriguez denied him even that mercy. He would bring him back from the brink of death, let his wounds heal just enough, then start all over again. That was who he was.

And now that same man controlled Kaia’s fate.

"Coward!" she spat, rage erupting through her chest as she shoved over the small table beside her. The lamp toppled, clattering to the floor.

“He can’t capture Vittorio by himself, so he wants me to do the very thing his useless, lone dick can’t do! Coward!”

Her rage made sense.

Judging by Rodriguez’s own words, Vittorio was beyond him, way wealthier, stronger, and more shielded. If Vittorio were weaker, Rodriguez would have removed him without a second thought.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, snatching a cushion and throwing it across the room.

Her tears flowed again, hot and angry. She wiped them aggressively.

She needed to move. She needed to think.

With a deep inhale, she pushed herself to her feet and hurried into the bathroom. She twisted on the shower, letting icy water crash down her body, hoping the cold might smother the fire burning inside her chest.

When she stepped out, the ticking of the wall clock struck her like a slap.

“Ten hours,” she whispered.

It echoed in her head like a countdown to devastation.

It was 8 a.m. She had until 6 p.m.

No mistakes. No delays.

She pulled on a three-quarter flare gown, rushed to her laptop, and typed Vittorio’s name into the search bar.

The screen loaded.

“Not found.”

Her stomach dropped.

Not even a trace.

Even Rodriguez had at least a shadow of an online presence, rumors, sightings, scattered reports. But Vittorio?

Nothing.

“Shit,” she whispered, running both hands through her hair. If the internet couldn’t help her, then the streets had to. Someone, somewhere in Italy, had to know him.

“At least some people must have an idea of who he is,” she muttered to herself, grabbing her purse.

She stormed out of her hotel room and into the streets, the burning sun hitting her face like the start of a race she hadn’t agreed to join, but had no choice but to win.

★★★

“Ten hours? That’s too short for her to gather any information about Vittorio,” a female voice said calmly, seated across the spacious room.

Rodriguez smirked without looking up. He leaned back on the velvet sofa, crossing one leg over the other. His hazel eyes glimmered as sunlight streamed through his window, highlighting the cruelty resting so naturally in his expression.

“That’s why she’s up to the task,” he replied. “A mother will make the impossible possible for her child.”

The woman tilted her head, her red lips curling slightly. “True. Then reduce her chances of passing the next round. Add something… heavier. Put fear in her. Pressure creates more obedience.”

Rodriguez let out a low chuckle.

Suddenly he reached out, grabbing her by the neck, not to choke her, but to pull her sharply toward him. He kissed her with force, swallowing her breath, claiming her mouth with the same intensity he ruled his empire.

“That’s why I married you,” he murmured against her lips.

She smirked, sliding her fingers into his jacket and tugging him closer.

“Make it enticing,” she whispered. “Straight is boring.”

Rodriguez’s smile turned dark.

“Then let the game get interesting.”