The rain poured down in sheets, hammering against the windows of Salvatore's office. Outside, the city seemed to blur under the deluge, its streets gleaming wet and deserted. But inside, the air was tense, charged with the weight of what was to come.
Salvatore stood by the large window, his hands behind his back, watching the storm. He had made his decision. The Grecos were making their move, and Naples was becoming a pressure point. It was time to show strength, but not in person. He wasn't going to risk himself—not yet. This meeting required a different approach, one that would make a statement without putting him directly in the line of fire.
Behind him, Marco stood silently, waiting for Salvatore's instructions. He had been briefed about the situation but hadn't yet heard the plan.
Salvatore turned from the window, his eyes settling on Marco. "I'm not going to Naples."
Marco, standing at attention, gave a small nod of understanding. "Who do you want to send, Boss?"
Salvatore took a moment, weighing his options. He needed someone capable, someone who could handle a delicate situation without escalating it unnecessarily. The Grecos would be watching closely, testing them, and the person he sent needed to represent his strength without appearing too eager for violence.
"Luca," Salvatore said after a brief pause. "He's smart, knows how to read a room. He'll handle it."
Marco raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Luca wasn't the first name that came to mind for a mission like this, but he trusted Salvatore's judgment. Luca was young, but that youth came with sharp instincts, something Salvatore valued. He wasn't the typical soldier, not the muscle most people associated with the family. But that was the point. This was about sending a message, not creating a spectacle.
"I'll bring him in," Marco said, already reaching for his phone.
Salvatore nodded, returning his gaze to the storm outside. "Tell him the rules: observe, listen, don't make any promises. If the Grecos try anything, he's to walk away. This meeting is for us to see how far they're willing to go, not to start a war."
Marco left the room, leaving Salvatore once again with his thoughts. As the rain continued to batter the windows, Salvatore lit another cigar, the flickering flame briefly illuminating the hardened lines of his face. He didn't trust the Grecos. They were old, bitter, and desperate. But desperation made men unpredictable, and that was what concerned him the most. A desperate enemy was a dangerous one.
Later that night, Luca arrived at the estate, his leather jacket soaked from the rain. He was ushered into Salvatore's office by Marco, his usual cocky demeanor slightly dampened by the tension in the air. He knew this wasn't a simple errand.
"Boss," Luca greeted, standing just inside the door, water dripping from his clothes.
Salvatore turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "You're going to Naples."
Luca's brow furrowed, but he kept his posture straight, waiting for more. He wasn't a stranger to handling family business, but this was a significant move. The Grecos weren't just any rival family. They were a legacy, like Salvatore's, and any misstep could have far-reaching consequences.
"I want you to meet with the Grecos," Salvatore said, his voice even. "Feel them out. See what they're really after. But remember, Luca, you're there to observe, not to negotiate. You're my eyes and ears—nothing more."
Luca nodded, the seriousness of the task settling in. "Understood."
Salvatore stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto Luca's. "You're representing me. If they try to test you, you walk. No promises, no deals. You keep your distance. They make a move, you let them show their hand first."
Luca nodded again, a hint of a smirk appearing. "I'll make sure they remember who they're dealing with."
Salvatore's lips curved slightly, appreciating the confidence but knowing Luca would need more than just swagger in Naples. "This isn't about showing strength. It's about control. Don't forget that."
With that, Luca turned and left, Marco walking him out of the estate. The rain had eased, but the clouds above still threatened more to come. As Luca climbed into the sleek black sedan waiting for him, he knew this wasn't just another assignment. Naples was a chessboard, and every move he made would echo back to Salvatore.
******************************************
The drive to Naples was long and silent, with only the rhythmic thrum of the tires on the wet asphalt breaking the quiet. Luca's mind was racing, running through the details of the mission. The Grecos were a known force, but their sudden quietness was unnerving. Salvatore had given him clear instructions, but that didn't stop the uneasy feeling in his gut. This wasn't a meeting. It was a test—one that could tip the balance of power if mishandled.
When Luca arrived in Naples, the streets were slick with rain, the city cloaked in a late-night stillness. He was greeted by one of the Greco's men—a wiry figure with sharp eyes who led him to a nondescript building on the outskirts of town. It was an old structure, crumbling at the edges, its brick facade weathered by years of neglect.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of damp stone and mildew. The meeting room was dimly lit, with a long, narrow table at its center. At the head of it sat Carlo Greco, the aging patriarch of the Greco family. His face was gaunt, the lines etched deep into his skin like cracks in stone. His eyes, though dulled by age, were still sharp, calculating.
"Ah, Salvatore sends his boy," Carlo greeted, his voice raspy but dripping with disdain. "I thought he might have the decency to come himself."
Luca didn't flinch. He had expected this. "Salvatore is busy. He trusts me to handle this."
Carlo's eyes flicked up and down, sizing him up. "Trust. A rare commodity in these times." He leaned forward slightly. "But trust is fragile, especially when it's given too freely."
Luca smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Salvatore doesn't give anything freely. You know that better than anyone."
Carlo chuckled, a dry, hollow sound. "Touché. So, let's get to it. You're here because your boss wants to know if the Grecos are still a threat. And I'm here to tell you, Luca... we're always a threat."
Luca's expression didn't change, but inside, he noted the edge in Carlo's voice. There was more here than just posturing. The Grecos were playing a dangerous game, and Luca wasn't going to bite the bait.
"I'm here to listen," Luca said smoothly. "And to take back whatever message you want delivered."
Carlo's gaze sharpened. "The message is simple: Salvatore's time is running out. We've been quiet, yes, but quiet isn't weak. Tell him that if he wants to maintain his empire, he'll have to deal with us sooner or later."
Luca stood, unphased by the not-so-subtle threat. "I'll make sure he gets the message."
As Luca turned to leave, Carlo's voice stopped him. "One more thing, boy. Don't mistake our patience for surrender. When we strike, it won't be a whisper—it'll be a roar."
Luca gave a curt nod, not bothering to look back as he exited the room. The Grecos had laid their cards on the table, and now it was up to Salvatore to decide how to play his hand.
***********************************************
Back in New York, Salvatore sat in his office, the storm finally passed, but the weight of what was coming still hung heavy in the air. Marco entered, phone in hand. "Luca's on his way back. He says the Grecos are ready to make their move."
Salvatore leaned back in his chair, his mind already working through the possibilities. The Grecos had made it clear they were still a threat. Now it was up to him to decide how to respond.
"They always were," Salvatore said quietly, the calm before the storm returning. "Let them come."