Chapter 11
In that agonizing second, as Ranzo watched Marine collapse, his world inverted. The mission, the disguise, the danger—everything vanished. His legs moved before his brain could protest, a desperate instinct to reach her, to catch her before she hit the cold marble. But just as he took his first explosive step, a hand clamped onto his arm with bruising force.
Ranzo spun around, his eyes wild with panic, only to meet the glowing, steady gaze of Sukome. She didn't say a word; she simply shook her head, her eyes boring into his, silently commanding him to stand down.
Ranzo's shoulders slumped. The fire in his eyes died down, replaced by a hollow defeat. He lowered his head as Sukome leaned into his ear, her voice a sharp, urgent whisper.
"I know it kills you to see her in pain," she breathed. "But we are in the heart of the enemy's lair. If you break cover now, Lady Cold's years of planning turn to ash. Look... look at your parents. They have her. They love her. She is safe with them. We have to move."
Ranzo forced his gaze back to the center of the hall. His mother was cradling Marine's head, and his father was already on the phone, his voice urgent as he summoned an ambulance. Ranzo took a long, trembling breath, centering himself.
"You're right," Ranzo muttered, his voice thick. "My parents... they care for her better than I ever could. Let's go. Lady Cold is waiting."
He stole one final look at Marine—a look filled with a haunting, unspoken longing—before turning his back on the light and disappearing into the night.
A short while later, the trio arrived at the safehouse. Lady Cold was standing by the window, her presence as chilling and commanding as ever. She turned to them, her eyes scanning their faces for any sign of failure.
"Is the objective secured?" she asked, her voice like cracking ice. "Did the mission encounter any... complications?"
Sukome bowed with practiced grace. "Everything went according to plan, Lady Cold. The seeds have been sown."
But Lady Cold's eyes lingered on Ranzo. "The Team Leader looks as if he's seen a ghost. What happened, Ranzo?"
Sanko and Sukome exchanged a quick look. Sanko stepped forward, giving a respectful nod. "The Vencenti family was at the party, Ma'am. Just as we were extracting, Ranzo's sister fainted. It... rattled him."
To their surprise, Lady Cold walked over and placed a weathered hand on Ranzo's shoulder. A rare, almost motherly smile touched her lips. "You are a warrior, Ranzo. But even warriors have hearts. Have faith; your sister is made of the same resilient blood as you. She will endure."
The words acted like a balm on Ranzo's frayed nerves. He took her hand briefly. "Thank you, Lady Cold. Your words bring a peace I didn't think I'd find tonight."
Lady Cold's expression sharpened back into business. "Tell me. What did you learn about Haru?"
Ranzo's aura shifted instantly from a worried brother to a lethal predator. "Haru is more than just a distributor of counterfeit meds. He's a degenerate gambler. His ego is tied to the betting table, and that, Lady Cold, is the key to sending that monster's son to hell."
"Intriguing," she mused. "Do you have a strategy?"
"A powerful one," Ranzo replied, his lips curving into a devilish smirk. He laid out the plan. When he finished, the room was silent.
Sanko whistled softly. "It's brilliant, Ranzo. High risk, but brilliant. I'd give us a sixty percent chance of survival."
"If the execution is flawless," Ranzo countered with cold confidence, "those odds jump to ninety. Sanko, I need a digital ghost. Create a fake identity—a high-stakes gambler with a history so deep even the dark web believes it. Post it by tomorrow. I'll handle the rest."
"Consider it done," Sanko grinned.
Ranzo turned to Sukome. "Are you ready for the performance of your life?"
"Master Ace," she replied, her eyes flashing with excitement, "I am always ready for you."
"Good," Ranzo said, turning back to Lady Cold. "Tomorrow, Haru falls. And his factory will become nothing but a memory of ash."
Lady Cold nodded, pride visible in her eyes. "From this moment, your compensation is doubled. Continue with this fire, and we will erase this mafia plague from our soil."
Before leaving, Ranzo hesitated. "Lady Cold, one more thing." He explained Aroon's black-market exploitation of the Vencenti brand.
She chuckled softly. "I've been wearing Vencenti collections for years, Ranzo. I know your sister's handiwork is unparalleled. I pay whatever price is asked because her art is worth it. As for Aroon... his greed will be his downfall. We will handle him in time."
"Thank you," Ranzo bowed. "I need to get home. My sister... I need to be there when she wakes up."
"Go," Lady Cold said softly. "Watch over her, Ranzo. And good luck tomorrow."
Ranzo raced through the streets, his heart a drum of anxiety. Is she okay? Did I leave her for too long? He burst through the front door of the Vencenti manor. "Grandmother! Where is Marine? Are Mom and Dad back?"
His grandmother met him in the hall, taking his face in her hands. "Hush, child. She is fine. She's resting in her room. But she's been calling for you, Ranzo. She said the world feels empty without you. Go to her."
Ranzo hurried to her room. He knocked three times—their secret signal—before opening the door. Marine didn't even give him a chance to speak; she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his chest.
"Please... don't ever leave me again," she cried, her voice muffled. "Without you, the world is a nightmare. I went to that party... I felt like everyone was a monster waiting to tear me apart. I only feel safe when you're near."
Ranzo said nothing, but he held her closer, his heart breaking for the trauma she didn't even realize was hers. "You shouldn't have gone if you weren't ready," he said softly.
"I thought I could survive without you," she sobbed, looking up at him with tear-blurred eyes. "But I can't. I can't do it, Ranzo."
He gently wiped her tears away. "You have to be strong, Marine. One day... one day you'll get married. You'll have a life of your own, a house of your own. I won't be there to hold your hand then. How will you cope?"
At the mention of marriage, Marine's crying intensified. She buried her face back into his chest, clutching his shirt. "No! Never! I will never get married! I only want to stay with you, Ranzo. Always. I don't care if I'm just your sister... I just want to stay."
"Peace, Marine," he whispered, stroking her hair. "Just peace."
To distract her, he led her to the console. "Tell you what. If you beat me in a single round of our game tonight, I promise... I will never leave you alone as long as I live."
Marine's head snapped up. A glimmer of hope touched her tearful face. "A promise? You mean it?"
"A promise," Ranzo smiled.
They played. Ranzo, the man who never lost, the man whose reflexes were honed for killing, did something he never did. He hesitated. He let his guard down. He watched her focus, her small hands moving with desperate determination. And for the first time in his life, Ranzo lost.
Marine jumped up, throwing her hands in the air with a joyous shout. "Yes! I won! I actually won! Now you can never leave me, Ranzo! You promised!"
Watching her laugh, seeing the light return to her eyes, Ranzo leaned back against the desk, resting his head on his hand. He watched her with a faint, melancholy smile.
Stay happy, Marine, he thought silently. That is all I will ever ask of this world.