Luca's POV
Tension was high in the warehouse, an unsaid storm building between Isabella and her father. The location seems sinister with the lengthy shadows the low light creates over the concrete floor. But I knew places like this—cold, hostile, full of secrets. The look on Isabella's face was one I was not used to. Fury, treachery, and something more I cannot quite identify.
I watched her; every muscle in my body coiled under stress. She stayed still, gazing her father down with a ferocity I had not seen before. This was another Isabella—the lady who had been my pawn, once terrified but now stood resolutely. And I struggled to determine if I respected her will or worried more about maybe killing her.
Marco Russo, her father, stood sloppily, his hands still in his pockets, but he had a menacing shine in his eyes. This was not the dad who had just offered his daughter for sale. This man carried more cards than anyone could have imagined.
"I will ask you once more.," Isabella spoke with a calm, frigid evenness. "What are you going to do?"
Marco smiled slowly, one that made my hands want to pound into his arrogant face. Isabella, you were always too inquisitive for your own benefit. By now you should have understood that asking the incorrect questions may land you in hot water.
She held no flinching. I had to hand it to her. "I have no fear of you."
Is that like that? Marco grinned broadly, but his eyes stayed icy. "Then maybe you should be terrified of what's coming."
There was that. Enough of this game has been played.
Stepping forward, my voice low and stern, "Whatever you think you have planned, Marco, ends here," I whispered. You have run out of moves.
Marco looked at me; the smile never left his face. Out of moves? Oh, Enzo, you truly do not get it. This never concerned only you and me. Whereas I have been playing chess, you are playing checkers.
I narrowed my eyes and gave him great attention. More than I cared to admit, there was something he was hiding close to the vest that disturbed me. "What are you speaking about?"
Marco laughed, shook his head as though he were sorry for me. "Ren is only the tip of the iceberg, Enzo. You believe demolishing him will help you to address your problems? Not one. Someone else, someone who has been lurking in the shadows, waiting their turn.
I flexed . "Who?,"
Marco had a faint smile and satisfied glistening eyes. Soon enough you will find out. But by then, you could find it too late.
I moved forward, my tolerance running thin. "You're wrong if you believe I'm going to let you leave this little performance."
His eyes darted to Isabella, a nasty glitter in them. "I wouldn't be really confident about that, Enzo. After all, would you want anything to happen to your small gift?
Though I kept my demeanor calm, a chilly wrath flooded over me at his remarks. "If you contact her—"
Marco neatly interjected, saying, "I won't have to." "Because I know you, Enzo. Though deep down you have a vulnerability, you may be the merciless mafia king. You give her importance. And for just this reason I have already won.
Though I looked away, I could see Isabella staring at me. My whole attention was on Marco, on determining his next action and how to counter it. But the reality of his comments bit me, probing into the areas I wanted not to face. She was my weakness. The one thing that may bring all I had created down.
Tell me who you are working with, I said, my voice like ice.
Marco groaned; his smile vanished as he examined me. "It's interesting how things come full circle—isn't it? Enzo, the crimes of the past always catch us back-off. Though in the end you are exactly like your father, you felt you could transcend his faults.
That resonated. Though I tightened my jaw, I managed my wrath. "My father has nothing to do with this."
But he does, Marco remarked, his voice softening. "You never paused to consider who supported you along the road; you have been rather busy creating your empire. Who let you climb so effortlessly and quickly?
I wrinkled, my head whirling. What was he referring to? I had battled every inch of my territory, every contract, every triumph. Nobody was tugging the threads behind the scenes. none who—
It suddenly dawned on me. Like a goods train, the awareness came over me and left me dead.
My ascent to leadership. The simplicity with which I had seized over several areas of the city. All felt too planned, too polished. I had written it down at the moment as my own brutality and tactic. Right now, though.
My voice low and menacing, I turned to Marco. "Who left the money for you? Whose work this is?
Though he didn't respond immediately, the sparkle in his eyes revealed everything I needed to know. Soon enough you will find out. For now, though, I will leave you with this—more is at play than you would think. And when the moment arrives you will have to decide. Her—he turned to face Isabella—or your kingdom.
The words hung around like a rope, strangling my neck. I stayed still, silent as Marco turned and headed for the entrance, his footsteps resounding throughout the vacant warehouse. Though my head was whirling too quickly to respond, I should have stopped him and insisted on additional questions.
Stepping forward, Isabella had confused and terrified eyes. "Enzo, what's happening??"
I turned to confront her, a tough look on me. "You ought to go. Not now.
Her brow contracted. "What?" I am not going to go. I—"'
"This isn't up for discussion," I said, sounding more sharply than I wanted. "Return to the mansion." I will designate someone to ensure your safe arrival.
Her eyelids closed and I sensed her growing resentment. "Why would you be excluding me? I have the right to know what is occurring. Whether you like it or not, I am right now part of this.
I lowered my voice and stepped forward. "Because staying puts you in much more risk. You heard what Marco said. There's someone else out there, someone tugging the strings. And until I figure out who it is, you need to keep out of it."
She gazed at me, her mouth clinched, but after a time, she nodded hesitantly. Excellent. But don't expect me to just sit back and wait.
I watched her go, a knot of anxiety and resentment squeezing in my chest. She wouldn't keep out of it, I knew. She was too opinionated and obstinate to let this go. And that simply increased our risk—for both of us.
But for now there was no time to linger on that. I had more significant issues. Should what Marco stated be accurate, should someone else be behind all of this, then I had to find out who they were. And I had to work quickly.
Marco was correct in one regard: I had to make decisions. Isabella, also known as my empire.
The worst aspect was not knowing which one I could afford to give up.
My mind was still racing with what Marco had said, the trip back to my office was a haze. I couldn't get rid of the impression that I had overlooked something really vital, some small detail that would have straightened this mess. Nevertheless, no matter how hard I tried to put everything together, it all felt like a twisted web with no obvious path out.
Sofia was waiting for me when I got there; she leaned against the wall with folded arms. Her tone was laid back, but she remarked, "You look like hell," and there was a flutter of worry in her eyes.
I mumbled, passing her, "I've had better nights."
Her piercing eyes followed me inside the office. "What went on in the warehouse? You seem like you saw a ghost.
I ran a hand through my hair and settled down at my desk. Marco is working with someone else. something strong.
Sofia arched her eyebrow. "Ren??"
I gave my head a shake. Not sure. It exceeds Ren's scale. Marco has long-standing assistance from someone; perhaps even from me without my awareness.
Frowning, Sofia crossed her arms and leaned against the desk. "That defies logic." Who would gain from Marco and you both acquiring authority?
"That's what I have to investigate," I answered, my voice strained. "And quick."
Sofia observed me for a bit before responding once again; her voice was gentler. And regarding Isabella? She fits where among all of this?
I stopped, the weight of the choice weighing down on me. "She is... complicated."
Sofia's lips drew into a little grin. "Isn't it always her?"
I ignored her; my thoughts too focused on the approaching danger. Still out there, still waiting for their next action was whomever was dragging the threads. And I knew, without a question, that their strike would be with lethal accuracy the following time.
But I wouldn't allow them.