Chapter 9 - The Cell
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The rusted metal grate groaned in protest as Marco heaved it open, revealing a narrow, steep staircase descending into pitch blackness. A wave of freezing, damp air hit Aleandro’s face, smelling strongly of mildew and copper.
Aleandro clicked on his tactical flashlight, aiming the beam down into the dark.
"I take the lead," Aleandro whispered, his voice a low, lethal hum.
He descended the stairs silently, his weapon tracking every shadow. At the bottom of the steps lay a heavy iron door, bolted from the outside with a thick padlock.
Aleandro didn't bother picking the lock. He gestured to Marco, who pulled a pair of heavy bolt cutters from his tactical rig. With a sharp, metallic snap, the padlock broke. Aleandro kicked the heavy iron door open, flooding the small boiler room with the blinding light of his flashlight.
"Elena," Aleandro called out, his voice cracking slightly against the cold air.
The beam of light swept across the room and stopped on a chair in the center of the damp concrete floor.
Elena was tied to the metal chair with heavy zip-ties around her wrists and ankles. Her clothes were torn, dirty, and soaked through from the freezing dampness of the room. Her dark hair hung in matted, messy clumps over her face. She was shivering violently, her lips a pale, dangerous shade of blue.
When the light hit her face, she squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away, expecting another round of interrogation or worse.
"Please," Elena rasped, her voice completely broken. "I told you, I don't know anything. Just let me see my daughter. Please don't hurt her."
The sound of her broken, desperate pleading tore a hole straight through the center of Aleandro’s chest. The man who had ruthlessly built an empire on fear felt his heart shatter into a thousand jagged pieces.
He rushed forward, dropping his weapon and his flashlight onto the concrete floor.
"Elena," Aleandro whispered, dropping to his knees right in front of her. "It's me. You're safe."
Elena slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the harsh light reflecting off the floor. When she saw the towering, scarred face of the mafia boss kneeling in front of her, the shock completely paralyzed her.
"Don Aleandro?" she gasped, disbelief fighting with the exhaustion in her eyes. "How..."
"Mia told me," Aleandro said softly, pulling a knife from his belt. He reached behind her chair, cutting the thick plastic zip-ties with expert precision. "Your daughter is a very brave girl."
The moment her hands were free, Elena collapsed forward. Her frozen, exhausted muscles completely gave out.
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Aleandro didn't let her hit the floor. He caught her, wrapping his massive arms around her, pulling her fragile, freezing body flush against his chest. He held her tight, ignoring the dirt and the damp, burying his face in her dark hair.
"I've got you," Aleandro murmured fiercely. "I've got you."
