Untraceable

POV: Enzo.

The rhythmic, agonizing beep of the heart monitor was the first sound that pierced the heavy haze of anesthesia. Searing pain radiated from the left side of my gut, a sharp, burning reminder of the high-caliber bullet that had nearly ended my reign. I forced my eyes open, blinking against the harsh, sterile white lights of my private underground medical bay. My mouth tasted like copper and dry ash.

Damián stood rigidly at the foot of my steel-framed hospital bed. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscle twitched under his skin. His posture was stiff with pent-up, aggressive energy. "You should have let me execute her on the pavement."

I gritted my teeth and pushed myself up against the stiff pillows. The heavy surgical stitches pulled taut across my abdomen, sending a fresh wave of agony through my nerves. "She saved my life, Damián. Is this how you suggest we handle our assets? By executing the very hands that stitch me back together?"

"She is a massive, unpredictable liability. What if she turns out to be a loose end sent by a rival syndicate?" Damián stepped closer, his dark eyes flashing with unfiltered frustration. "We are dealing with enough external threats right now. We do not need some random, heavily armed woman dragging our focus down. She is dangerous."

I let his harsh words wash over me, my mind flashing back to the cold, blood-stained asphalt. I remembered the defiant, unyielding expression on her beautiful face when my heavily armed enforcers had surrounded her and her massive bodyguard. She did not scream. She did not beg. She had a sleek pistol tucked into her waistband, and she carried it like a natural extension of her arm. There was no tremor in her slender fingers, no panic in her steady breathing. She was a civilian on paper, but her ice-cold composure under the immediate threat of death screamed something else. No ordinary medical professional stared down the barrels of custom assault rifles without flinching. From the refined, clipped way she spoke to the lethal grace of her posture, I deduced that she was born into immense wealth. A wealthy family deeply entrenched in a violent underworld syndicate.

"She did not seem to know who I was. It has been a very long time since I came across someone who looked me directly in the eye without a shred of paralyzing fear." I met Damián's furious gaze, my voice raspy but coated in iron. "I requested the background file on her identity. Where is it?"

Damián crossed his muscular arms over his chest, his scowl deepening into a menacing glare. "There is no file, Enzo. I ran her through every secured database we possess. Local precincts, federal agencies, international watchlists. There is nothing. It is like she dropped straight out of the sky. She has zero digital footprint. No social media, no bank records, no medical licenses under the alias she provided."

I frowned deeply, ignoring the relentless throb in my side. "Did you run her fingerprints?"

"I did. We got zero hits across the board." Damián shook his head, running a rough hand through his dark hair. "She is a total ghost. You cannot be a trained trauma surgeon and not exist on a single grid. Judging by the high-end luggage and foreign currency we pulled from her armored car, she must have been returning from a very long trip. But we cannot track the vehicle registration or the flight logs. She is deeply embedded in a rival organization. She has to be."

"Run a much more thorough, invasive trace. Dig into the black-market clinics, the private airstrip manifests, the offshore accounts." I ordered, my tone leaving no room for debate.

"Enzo, I think we should just get rid of her right now." Damián grumbled, slamming his heavy fist on the metal footboard. "Give me the word. I will walk down to the holding cells, put a bullet in her brain, and toss her body in the incinerator. We do not have the time to play guessing games with a phantom."

"Are you out of your damn mind?" I growled, my voice dropping to a deadly, vibrating register. "She is the daughter of a powerful ally or a lethal enemy. Do you want to execute an asset of her caliber without calculating the catastrophic damage it could cause our operation?"

That sharp reprimand was enough to shut Damián up. He clamped his mouth shut, his jaw ticking in silent submission. Damián was a phenomenal, ruthless enforcer, a man who preferred to eliminate breathing problems before they sprouted. But the doctor was strictly out of bounds for him. I operated under a rigid, ironclad moral code. I had clawed my way out of the gutter, overthrown the previous Don of my outfit, and built a sprawling, terrifying mafia syndicate by adhering to strict, unbending principles. I repaid every single debt I owed, whether it was bathed in blood or mercy. If it were not for her swift hands on the street, I would be lying in a morgue right now. I was not going to sign her death warrant just because she was a dangerous enigma.

"Drop the doctor for now. Give me the updates on Arturo Navarro's daughter." I shifted my focus, pushing all lingering thoughts of my savior to the back of my mind. My pulse accelerated at the mere mention of his name. "Have the investigators located her?"

Damián sighed, his aggressive posture deflating into reluctance. "The private investigators are working tirelessly around the clock. We have our best tracking teams on it."

"That is exactly why I pay them millions of dollars. I want results, Damián. Why has she not been found till now?" I cut in with a curt, unforgiving tone.

"We have absolutely no concrete information to work with. We do not even know her first name. Arturo has kept her heavily shielded from the world since she was a toddler. There are no photographs, no school records, no known associates. They asked for a little more time to breach Navarro's offline archives. I expect to get verified feedback from them before the end of today."

I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, fighting the surge of dark, venomous rage that always clawed at my chest. Fifteen years ago, on a freezing, rain-slicked night, Arturo Navarro had orchestrated the grotesque, merciless slaughter of my parents. I had been a weak, terrified teenager, forced to watch my family get butchered in our own home. I had built my entire empire from those bloody ashes. I had ruthlessly eradicated my rivals, conquered entire territories, and transformed 'Enzo Mancini' into a household name that commanded absolute, paralyzing terror in the mafia world.

Every life I took, every dollar I bled from my enemies, was dedicated to one exclusive, consuming purpose. I was going to destroy Arturo Navarro. Putting a bullet in his head was a fleeting mercy he did not deserve. I had to make him understand what it felt like to lose his entire world. That singular goal had been my driving force for ten grueling years. The only way I could shatter him was by ripping away the possession that meant the most to him. His hidden daughter.

For over a decade, I had watched him from the shadows, meticulously plotting my vengeance. He did not remember the weak boy he had orphaned. He only knew me as the untouchable mafia lord who ruled the city. And things would remain that way until I had his precious daughter locked in my chains.

"I have given them enough time. If they cannot do the job and deliver her name by tomorrow, they should get ready to be replaced permanently." I stated coldly.

"What should we do with the doctor and her sidekick in the meantime?" Damián’s deep voice broke through my dark, vengeful thoughts.

"Nothing, for now. We will figure out her utility once we confirm her true identity. Her name is Clara. Start tearing that alias apart."

With that final command, Damián bobbed his head in acknowledgement and walked out of the sterile room. I leaned back against the pillows, pressing my large hand against my bandaged injury. Recruiting the mysterious doctor wouldn't be a terrible idea. A mafia organization could never have too many skilled trauma surgeons on the payroll. She was highly proficient with firearms, which was a massive tactical advantage. She was a stubborn, fiery woman who would need severe taming if she were to join the outfit, but she possessed undeniable value.

The heavy oak door suddenly burst open, shattering the quiet room. Damián walked back in, followed closely by a woman trailing fiercely behind him. Vanessa Cruz. She was a core, lethal member of my outfit. Ever since I had rescued her from a brutal human trafficking ring when she was a child, she had stuck to me like glue. She was a ruthless killer, but if there was anyone I harbored a sliver of a soft spot for, it was Vanessa.

"I heard you brought a strange woman into the compound." Vanessa whined, a dark scowl marring her striking features as she marched straight to my bed. She dropped into the armchair beside me, her eyes flashing with deep-seated, possessive jealousy. She leaned dangerously close into my space and started to trace her manicured fingers lightly along my bare arm. "Should I go down to the cells and kill her for you? I can make it very painful."

I firmly swatted her hand away, glaring at her with a chilling warning. "No one is touching the doctor, Vanessa. I am setting an absolute boundary right now. Not even you. Do you understand?"

Vanessa rolled her dark eyes, huffing in dramatic annoyance at my strict reply. She liked to act aggressively possessive at times, and I had to constantly remind her that she did not own me. Scanning the heavy bandages wrapped tightly around my torso, she asked, "How was your surgery?"

"It kept me breathing." Distractedly, I shifted my gaze back to Damián, who was standing in the doorway. He was staring down at his encrypted tablet, and a sudden, electrified gleam sparked in his eyes. Did he have good news for me? Damián wouldn't seem so intensely enthusiastic if that wasn't the case.

"We just received urgent word from our deep-cover spies inside Navarro’s territory. Arturo is frantically planning a massive party for his daughter." Damián announced, stepping fully into the room.

My eyes narrowed sharply. I had lethal spies planted everywhere. Infiltrating Navarro’s inner circle wasn’t easy because the bastard was the most observant, calculative paranoiac in the underworld, but I had achieved it. "What is the party for?" I questioned. Was Arturo finally ready to reveal his daughter’s identity to the public? He never did anything that could compromise her safety.

"Apparently, she is returning to the country today after a seven-year absence."

She was out of the country? The realization hit me like a freight train. That was why my investigators had hit constant brick walls. Kidnapping her would have been a thousand times easier if I had known she was isolated abroad.

"Travel records. Find out what secure route she is supposed to take and track her down. I do not care if you have to deploy kill squads to every commercial and private airstrip in the country. Lock down the borders and find her." I thought aloud, throwing the hospital blanket off my legs and swinging my feet to the cold floor. I ignored the sharp spike of pain in my gut.

"Enzo, I was not done briefing you." Damián held up his hand.

I was getting worked up. The adrenaline pumped through my veins, dulling the pain. There was finally a tangible way to drag Arturo to his knees right in front of me. I took a deep, steadying breath and let Damián continue.

"She didn’t make it home. Her father is trying his absolute best to hide the truth with this fake gala, but he is going crazy behind closed doors because he thinks she has been abducted by rivals." Damián stated, his voice buzzing with tension.

I had to act fast. Arturo had massive, bloody scores to settle with dozens of syndicates. Very soon, the news of his heir’s disappearance would leak, and a massive city-wide witch hunt would begin. I was not the only mafia lord interested in using his daughter as leverage. I had to beat everyone else to the punch.

Damián’s secure phone suddenly chimed with a loud notification. He checked the screen, his dark brows furrowing in deep concentration with every passing second. I watched him curiously as his expression shifted. Was there another piece of intelligence leading us to the missing heir?

"Enzo. We have her with us." Damián drawled, a slow, dark, triumphant smirk overtaking his rugged features. He looked up, his eyes shining with lethal excitement.

"Who? Arturo’s daughter?" I demanded.

"The doctor. I am certain she is the woman you have been hunting for. We ran a rapid facial recognition check on the bruised man locked in the cell with her, just to be safe. His name is Rocco. He is one of Arturo’s most trusted, elite lieutenants. There are classified surveillance pictures of them together."

The colossal realization slammed into my chest with bone-rattling force. My earlier hunch was right on the money. The missing fingerprints. The lack of a digital footprint. The travel gear. The fearless, icy composure. Arturo had hidden her from the world, erasing her existence to protect her. For fifteen years, I had turned the earth upside down hunting for her, and fate had gift-wrapped the ultimate prize and delivered her straight into my heavily fortified stronghold.

"What do we do to her now?" Damián asked, pocketing his phone.

"Bring her to me. Right now. I will confirm her identity myself."

"Will you kill her?"

The question hung heavily in the sterile air as deep irritation rose in my chest. If only I did not owe her my life. If only I did not care about my strict code of repaying good and bad deeds. I could not put a bullet in her brain, not anymore. But my life debt gave me the ultimate, devastating weapon to subject her father to a living, agonizing hell.

"No."

A few minutes later, the heavy metal door swung open. Two armed guards shoved the doctor into the room.

She stumbled forward but caught her balance instantly, standing tall in the center of the room. A fiery, murderous glint burned in her dark eyes. Her clothes were stained with my dried blood. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest as she glared at me, unflinching under my predatory gaze. Vanessa shifted on the chair behind me, tucking her legs into a cross-legged position. I could feel Vanessa's murderous glare burning into the back of the doctor's head, but I kept my focus locked on my captive.

I stood up straight, ignoring the burning stitches in my abdomen, and took slow, measured, predatory steps towards her. My sharp eyes locked onto the faint outline of a silver chain tucked beneath the collar of her shirt. She had purposely hidden it earlier to conceal her identity.

"I made a massive mistake. I should never have stopped to treat you on that street. Is this how you repay the people who save your miserable life? By locking them in a dungeon?" She bit out the words, her jaw set in stubborn fury. Her eyes were narrowed in sheer anger as she shot venomous daggers at me.

I did not bother answering her useless questions. I closed the distance between us, reached out, and violently yanked the hidden silver chain right off her neck.

The heavy metal snapped. As expected, the pendant dropped into my palm, proudly bearing the undeniable, intricate insignia of the Navarro clan. The roaring lion wrapped in thorns. That was all the confirmation I needed.

As I held the damning crest in my open palm, the doctor’s tough facade cracked. Genuine shock dilated her pupils.

"What is your true name?" I demanded, keeping my voice terrifyingly flat and authoritative.

She glanced down at the silver necklace in my hand, then snapped her gaze back to my face. If looks could kill, the sheer, burning hatred in her eyes would have sent me six feet under the concrete.

"Cora Navarro. Why do you ask?" She cocked her head slightly to the side, a look of unadulterated disgust twisting her beautiful features as she gave me a slow, insulting once-over.

A smug, dark, vindictive smile curved my lips as I crushed the pendant in my fist.

Jackpot.