The Mighty Marco Alessandro

Where's she?

Third person POV

"They took her away," she said, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. "They took her out of here immediately after I called you. I don't know where they took her, please... you have to help me find my mother. She's in danger," she begged, her eyes welling up with tears.

As she finished speaking, she released her grip on Marco's arm and fell to her knees, overwhelmed with emotions. Tears streamed down her face as she buried her hands in her face, her body shaking tremendously with sobs.

Marco quickly moved to help her, gently lifting her to her feet as he wrapped a supportive and comforting arm around her shoulders.

Marco's smile was warm and reassuring as he asked, "What's your name?"

Chloe sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand before replying, "Chloe."

Marco's expression turned serious, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, Chloe. I will find your mother, but first, you have to be safe." He glanced around, his eyes scanning the area before spotting Alex. "Alex!" he called out.

Alex quickly rushed over, his eyes fixed on Marco. Marco handed Chloe over to him, saying, "Take her to my house. Make sure she's safe."

Alex nodded swiftly, his face set in a serious expression. He saluted Marco before turning to Chloe. "Let's go," he said gently, guiding her away.

As they walked away, Chloe turned back to Marco, her eyes pleading. "Please find my mother," she said, her voice trembling even more. "Make sure you find her."

Marco's face darkened with rage as he clenched his fist angrily, the muscles in his arm tensing like a coiled spring. He strode out of the room, his long strides eating up the distance as he made his way towards Reginald and his guards.

As he approached, his eyes locked onto Reginald, blazing with fury. Reginald, sensing his anger, took a step back, but Marco was too quick. With a swift, powerful motion, Marco kicked Reginald in the gut, sending him crashing to his knees.

Reginald gasped for breath, his face pale and sweaty. Marco moved closer, his eyes blazing with anger, and grabbed Reginald's collar, twisting it tightly in his fist. Reginald's eyes widened in fear as Marco's face loomed over him, his voice low and menacing.

"Where the hell did you put my wife?" Marco yelled, his voice thundering through the air like a crack of lightning. His face was red with rage, his eyes blazing with fury.

Reginald cowered, his eyes and mouth wide open in fear. "I don't know where your wife is," he managed to stutter out.

Marco let out a dry laugh, a harsh, mocking sound that sent bad chills down Reginald's spine. "You want to play stubborn?" He sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "You think you can hide the truth from me?"

Reginald shook his head, his eyes pleading for mercy. "I swear, I'm telling the truth, I really don't know where your wife is," he repeated, his voice growing more desperate. "Let me go, please. Trust me, I don't know."

"Trust you?" Marco scoffed. "Firstly, I don't trust you. Secondly, I don't plan on keeping you either," he growled, his voice cold and calculating. "But I will let you go on one condition: tell me where my wife is, and I will let you go." He paused, his eyes boring into Reginald's. "But if you refuse... let's just say you won't be alive to see your families."

Reginald scoffed, a look of defiance suddenly crossed his face. "You can't force information out of my mouth," he spat. "I don't know where she is, and that's final." He crossed his arms, his eyes flashing with anger.

Marco nodded his head, a cold smile spreading across his face. He took a step closer to Reginald, his eyes glinting with a fierce light. And then, in a swift, sudden motion, he reached out and grabbed Reginald's leg, dragging him across the ground.

Reginald let out a cry of pain and surprise as Marco dragged him out of the compound, the guards staring on in shock and awe. None of them dared to intervene, however, as Marco's fierce determination and anger were evident.

Marco dragged Reginald to his car, parked nearby, and flung open the trunk. He tossed Reginald inside, slamming the trunk shut behind him. Then, he slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, peeling out of the compound with a screech of tires.

Marco drove straight to his house, the tires crunching on the gravel driveway. As he pulled up, he noticed a group of soldiers standing at attention, their faces stern and alert. He parked the car in the garage and stepped out, his eyes scanning the area before focusing on the soldiers.

"Take him," Marco ordered, nodding towards the trunk of the car. "Lock him up in the torture room. I'll deal with him later."

The soldiers sprang into action, opening the trunk and dragging Reginald out. Marco watched for a moment, his eyes cold and unyielding, before turning and walking towards the living room.

As he entered the living room, he saw Chloe sitting in a chair, her body shaking with soft sobs. Her eyes were red and puffy, like embers glowing with a fierce inner fire. Marco's heart went out to her, and he felt a surge of anger towards Reginald for putting her through this.

"Chloe," Marco called softly, his voice gentle and reassuring.

Chloe raised her head, her eyes locking onto Marco's. For a moment, they just stared at each other.

Marco knelt down beside Chloe, his eyes locking onto hers as he spoke in a soft, reassuring tone. "Daddy is here, sweetie," he said, his voice gentle and soothing. "I promised you that I would find your mother, no matter what. Don't worry, baby, your mother will be fine. I'll do everything in my power to bring her home safely."

Chloe looked up at Marco, her eyes wide with worry and uncertainty. "Are you sure you can find her?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Marco's face set in a determined expression, his jaw clenched in resolve. "Yes, baby, you have to trust me," he said, his voice firm and confident. "I am a general, and there's no one I can't find. I have the resources, the skills, and the experience to track down anyone, no matter where they are. Your mother will be found, Chloe, and she will be brought home safely. I promise you that."

"I trust you," Chloe said, her voice filled with conviction. "That's why I called you." She looked up at Marco, her eyes shining with faith and trust.

Marco nodded his head, a warm smile spreading across his face. "If you trust me, then you need to take care of yourself," he said, his voice gentle and soothing. "You need to have a bath and eat something. You must be exhausted and hungry."

As if on cue, two maids rushed into the room, their faces concerned and attentive. "Make sure she's fine," Marco instructed them, his eyes never leaving Chloe's face. "Give her anything she needs. Food, drink, clothes - whatever it is, just make sure she has it."

The maids nodded hastily, their eyes wide with understanding.

"Yes, General," the maids replied in unison, their voices crisp and respectful.

Marco turned to Chloe, his eyes filled with a deep concern. "I'll be right back," he said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Please be fine until I come back." He wrapped his arms around Chloe, pulling her into a warm, comforting hug.

For a moment, they stood there, locked in a tender embrace. Then, Marco disengaged from the hug, his face set in a determined expression. He turned and walked away, his strides long and purposeful as he made his way to the torture room.

Marco's hand reached out, flipping the switch that illuminated the torture room. The sudden burst of light was like a slap in the face, making Reginald's eyes water as he squinted against the glare. He quickly scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting wildly around the room as he took in his surroundings.

The torture room was a stark, utilitarian space, the walls lined with cold, grey stone and the air thick with the scent of sweat and fear. The only furniture was a single, metal chair, bolted to the floor in the center of the room. Reginald's eyes fixed on the chair, his mind racing with terrible possibilities.

Marco's voice cut through the silence, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Welcome to my home," he said, his smile glinting like a knife in the bright light.

Reginald's eyes snapped back to Marco, his face pale and sweaty. "General, please," he begged, his voice shaking with fear. "Let me go. I promised to help you find your wife."

Marco's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. And then, without warning, he burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls like a mockery.

Marco's laughter finally subsided, and he regarded Reginald with a cold, calculating gaze. "Help me find my wife?" he repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism. "I don't think you can do that, Reginald. You told me yourself that you don't know where she is."

Reginald's eyes darted wildly around the room, taking in the array of sinister-looking instruments and devices that adorned the walls. His knees buckled in fear as he stumbled backwards, his hands grasping for something, anything, to cling to.

But then, in a desperate bid to save himself, Reginald's face contorted into a twisted grimace. "I know where she is," he stammered, his voice trembling with fear. "I'll give you the address of the place they took her to. Just please, General, don't hurt me."

"That's easy to say," Marco said, his voice laced with skepticism. "How am I sure you're telling the truth?" He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing as he waited for Reginald's response.

Reginald's face contorted in a desperate plea. "I swear on my life," he stammered, his voice trembling with fear.

As he spoke, Reginald's shaking hands fumbled for his phone, which he quickly retrieved from his pocket. He navigated to a specific image, his eyes darting up to Marco's face before he held out the phone.

Marco's eyes widened as he took in the image on the screen. His face darkened, his jaw clenched in anger. His fist tightened, the knuckles whitening as he struggled to contain his rage.