The room plunged into darkness, the hum of whispered conversations turning into panicked murmurs. Rachel's heart raced as she clutched the edge of the table for balance.
"What's happening?" she whispered.
"Stay close," Luca's voice came from beside her, calm and authoritative.
The emergency lights flickered on moments later, casting the room in a faint red glow. Security guards were already scrambling, their radios crackling with orders. The Caravaggio was gone, leaving an empty easel behind.
Luca didn't hesitate. He grabbed Rachel's hand and led her through the chaotic crowd, weaving past guards and patrons alike. She stumbled as they turned a corner into a service hallway, his grip firm as he pulled her along.
"Wait!" she protested. "What are we doing? Isn't this your plan?"
"No," he said sharply, his eyes scanning the corridor. "This wasn't me. Someone else got to it first."
Rachel's confusion deepened. "You're telling me another thief stole the painting?"
Luca smirked, though his frustration was evident. "Welcome to my world."
They burst through a side door into the alley behind the auction house. A sleek black car screeched to a halt in front of them, and a familiar man—Luca's lieutenant, Nico—leaned out the driver's window.
"We've got a lead," Nico said. "The van they're using is heading toward the docks."
"Get in," Luca ordered Sofia.
She hesitated, looking back at the chaos inside the building. But the urgency in Luca's voice left her no choice. She climbed into the car, the door slamming shut as they sped off into the night.
The car screeched to a halt near a cluster of shipping containers. The area was eerily quiet, the only sounds the distant lapping of waves and the faint hum of machinery.
"Stay here," Luca said, opening the door.
"Like hell I will," Rachel shot back, surprising even herself with her defiance.
Luca's eyes narrowed, but he didn't argue. "Fine. Stay behind me."
They moved through the shadows, their footsteps muffled against the gravel. Nico pointed toward a van parked near the edge of the docks. Men were unloading crates, their movements hurried and tense.
Luca motioned for Nico to circle around, while he and Rachel crept closer. She could feel her pulse pounding in her ears as they approached.
"Stay quiet," Luca whispered.
But as they neared the van, a loud clang echoed nearby. One of the men turned, his hand flying to the gun at his waist.
"Who's there?"
Before Rachel could react, Luca stepped forward, his demeanor shifting into cold, calculated authority.
"Lower the weapon," he said, his voice steady. "You know who I am."
The man hesitated, recognition dawning in his eyes. "Mr. DeLuca... we didn't know this was your territory."
"It is," Luca said, his tone lethal. "And you've made a mistake. Where's the painting?"
The man gestured toward one of the crates. Luca's jaw tightened, his gaze unwavering.
"Unload it. Now."
The men scrambled to obey, prying open the crate to reveal the Caravaggio, still intact. Relief flooded Rachel's chest, though it was short-lived.
A gunshot rang out, shattering the tense silence. One of the rival thieves had fired, aiming for Luca.
Before she could think, Rachel acted. She grabbed a nearby metal rod and swung it at the attacker, knocking the gun from his hand. The man turned toward her, his expression a mix of shock and anger.
Luca moved like lightning, disarming the man and pinning him to the ground. His cold fury was terrifying, and Rachel saw a side of him that made her shiver.
"Who sent you?" Luca demanded, his voice low and menacing.
The man stammered, blood dripping from his lip. "It was—"
A sharp whistle cut through the air, and the man slumped forward, a knife embedded in his back.
Luca cursed under his breath, his gaze darting to the shadows where the whistle had come from. Whoever was behind this was still out there, watching.
"We're leaving," Luca said, grabbing Rachel's arm.
"But—"
"Now!"
Back in the car, Rachel's hands trembled as she stared at the Caravaggio, now safely in the trunk.
"What the hell just happened?" she demanded, her voice shaky.
"A rival family," Luca said, his expression unreadable. "They've been testing me for weeks. This was their latest move."
Rachel glared at him. "And I was caught in the middle of it!"
"You chose to be here," he said, his tone cold but his eyes betraying a flicker of something softer.
"I chose to save my brother," she shot back. "Not to be part of your war."
Luca leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You're in it now, Rachel. Whether you like it or not."
As the city lights blurred past the car window, Rachel couldn't help but wonder if she'd made a terrible mistake.