The battered survivor staggered into Emiliano Vega’s hideout just before dawn, blood streaking down his face. The room fell silent as he collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath.
Vega’s men rushed forward, helping him up, but his eyes were wild—filled with fear.
“She—she set us up,” he stammered. “Matilda… she knew we were coming.”
Vega clenched his jaw, pacing. “And DeLuca? Did you get word to him?”
The man nodded weakly. “I told him. He said… he said he’s ready.”
Vega exhaled sharply, pulling out his phone. He dialed a number, his fingers tapping against the table as he waited.
DeLuca answered on the second ring.
“We need to move—now,” Vega said.
But DeLuca’s voice was eerily calm. “No, we don’t.”
Vega frowned. “What the hell do you mean? She just wiped out my men.”
“She wanted you to send tha……
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