The Billionaire's Mistake (Anya and Daniel)

Chapter 132 Protective wile

Chapter 132: Protective wife

The next target proved more challenging. Alessio Bianchi, the Bianchi family’s eldest son, was attending a charity gala at the Villa Borghese. Shaw men, disguised as hotel staff, managed to lure him away from the crowded ballroom with news of an “urgent family matter.” By the time the real Bianchi guards realized something was amiss, Alessio was long gone.

In the next street over, capturing Luca Vitale required a more direct approach. The 25–year- old playboy was infamous for his wild parties and penchant for extreme sports. Shaw men intercepted his Lamborghini as he left a nightclub, forcing him off the road. Before he could react, he was dragged out of his car and taken.

The final target proved to be the most elusive. Matteo Dante, the 20–year–old heir of the Dantes, was supposedly hidden away in a heavily fortified compound in Appletown. But how can a small family fight the power of the Shaw family? A team of Shaw men, ex–military specialists, executed a daring raid on the compound. Using a combination of high–tech surveillance equipment and old– fashioned brute force, they captured Matteo from where the Dante family hid him.

As reports of each successful capture came in, Anya felt a grim satisfaction settle over her. By 3 AM, all four heirs were taken to the warehouse, sedated, and secured in separate vehicles.

“Excellent work,” she told her team before giving them a cold look. “Prepare the warehouse. Our guests will be arriving soon, and we need to make sure they’re comfortable.”

The men knew what she meant and started. The abandoned warehouse had been hastily converted into a makeshift interrogation room.

Four chairs were set up in the center of the empty space, each positioned under a harsh light. As the captured heirs were brought in one by one, still dizzy from the sedatives, Anya watched from the shadows.

These boys–and they were boys, she realized–none of them older than 25–represented the

future of organized crime in Appletown. They had been raised in luxury, groomed to take over their families‘ empires. But now, stripped of their designer clothes and without their family guards, they looked painfully young and vulnerable.

They were not so far different in age from her, but maybe she was used to Daniel’s masculine and older bearing, that they looked like nothing more than boys to her.

Anya pushed aside any flicker of sympathy. These were the sons of the men who had tried to kill her husband. They would serve as leverage, nothing more.

As the last of the sedatives wore off, Anya stepped into the light. The heirs blinked up at her, confusion giving way to fear as recognition dawned in their eyes.

“Boys,” Anya said, her voice echoing in the empty space. “Welcome. This may seem shocking to you, but keep a leveled head so that you might survive the night.”

Nico Russo, the youngest of the group, was the first to find his voice. “What is this?” he demanded, struggling against his restraints. “Do you have any idea who my family is?”

Anya’s laugh was cold and mirthless. “Oh, I know exactly who all your families are, You’re the bargaining chips that are going to bring my husband home safely.”

“Your husband?” One of them asked

Nico.

“Your families have gone too far today. They have attacked my husband on his way back. As long as they are obedient, you will walk out of here alive,” Anya said.

Understanding dawned on the captives‘ faces, quickly followed by varying degrees of panic and defiance.

“You’re insane,” Luca Vitale spat. “Our families will burn this city to the ground.”

“Perhaps,” Anya conceded. “But not before I send each of them a piece of their precious heirs. Starting with you, Luca. I hear your father is particularly fond of your pretty face. Shall we test how much he values it?”

The color drained from Luca’s face, and he fell silent. Anya turned her attention to Alessio Bianchi, who was watching her with a calculating gaze.

“Wo are you?” he asked.

“It seems we have a smart one,” Anya said, looking at him. “You can call me Anya Shaw.”

Her words made them go pale. Shaw, as in the Shaw? Their family attacked Shaw?

“Signora Shaw,” he said, his tone carefully respectful. “There must be some misunderstanding. Our families would never-”

“Save your lies,” Anya cut him off. “We have proof of your involvement in the attack on my husband. The only misunderstanding was your families thinking they could strike without consequences.”

She began to pace in front of the captives, her heels clicking ominously on the concrete floor. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. In a moment, I’m going to call each of your fathers. You will confirm that you are alive and unharmed–for now. If your family is even the slightest but brave, you will lose a body part.”

Anya paused, making eye contact with each of the young men. “If Daniel Shaw is not returned to me, alive and well, within two hours of those calls… well, let’s just say that your families will be shopping for smaller coffins.”

The threat hung heavy in the air, its implications sinking into the captives like lead weights. Matteo Dante, who had been silent until now, suddenly lurched forward in his chair.

Chap 32 Protective wide

“You can’t do this!” he shouted, fear and anger warring in his voice. “We’re protected! The Commission-”

Ah, yes. Anya recalled that there was something like this. A deal with the government that kept the small families in the area safe.

“The Commission,” Anya interrupted, her tone dripping with disdain, “is a small deal for small families and will understand that these are extraordinary circumstances. And if they don’t… well, I’m sure your fathers will be happy to explain to them why they thought assassinating Daniel Shaw was a good idea.”

She turned to Marco, who had been standing silently in the background. “Start drawing blood and bring me the phone. It’s time to make some calls,”

The torture began. For some reason, Anya had no intention of letting any of them go unharmed. Soon screams could he hear throughout.

The next thirty minutes Anya spoke to each family patriarch in turn, her voice never wavering as she laid out her demands.

The captured heirs were spared enough to be able to confirm their situation to their fathers.

But Anya’s cries could still be heard by their families.

As she ended the final call, Anya checked her watch. “Two hours, gentlemen,” she announced to the room at large. “Let’s all pray your fathers make the right choice.”

The warehouse fell into another round of cries and shouts. The heirs were tortured as the minutes ticked by. Anya paced restlessly, pausing occasionally to check her phone for updates. The screams of the heirs did nothing to calm her

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“Daniel?” she asked, stepping away from the captives

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“Anya,” came the familiar voice, rough with exhaustion but, more importantly, dine “Bay, I’m alright. I am coming home.”

The wave of relief that washed over Anya was so intense she had to steady herself againn a nearby pillar. “Thank God,” she whispered. “Are you hurt? Where are you?