The night smelled like wet road and gasoline. Rain left small streams of water on the sidewalk as Valeria stood under the roof of an old café. A street lamp give off a dim light, making long shadows on the empty road. Now and then, a far-off taxi honked, reminding her that even though it was quiet, the city was still awake.
She pulled her coat tighter around herself, checking the time on her phone. 10:45 PM.
He was late.
The logical part of her knew she should leave. Staying out in the open, especially when she had made the first move, was a dangerous gamble. But if she left now, she'd lose the one person who could help her bring Matteo DeLuca to his knees.
So she waited.
Patience was something she had learned over the years—how to bite her tongue, how to bide her time. She had spent too long in Matteo's world, watching, calculating. Now, she was using everything he had taught her against him.
A gust of wind carried the scent of strong coffee from inside the café, but Valeria barely noticed. Her focus was on the sleek black car that had just pulled up across the street.
The door opened.
A man stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his dark suit as he scanned the area.
Dominic Russo.
Even in the dim light, he carried an air of effortless confidence. He had the look of a man who had seen things most people never would—and had survived them.
She recognized that look because she wore it herself.
He spotted her immediately.
His lips curved slightly, not quite a smile, but an acknowledgment. He took his time crossing the street, each step deliberate, as if reminding her that he didn't need to rush for anyone.
By the time he reached her, the rain had picked up, droplets sliding down the sharp angles of his face.
"You're either brave or foolish, Valeria," he said smoothly, his voice barely rising above the rain.
She moved her head, her fingers holding the knife hidden beneath her coat. "I could say the same about you. Meeting me here, in DeLuca territory? Not very smart."
His lips twitched in amusement. "I stopped playing it safe a long time ago."
Without another word, he stepped past her and into the café.
She hesitated for a second before following.
A Dangerous Proposition
The café was nearly empty at this hour, save for a tired-looking waitress who barely looked at them. The scent of old books and espresso filled the space, and the hum of a vintage ceiling fan provided a soft, rhythmic background noise.
Dominic moved into a booth in the back, and Valeria took the seat across from him. He leaned back, putting an arm over the booth as he studied her with sharp blue eyes.
"Tell me why I'm here," he said.
Valeria leaned forward. "Because we have a common enemy."
Dominic's smirk faltered slightly. "You think I'm going to help you betray Matteo?"
"You already have."
His expression remained unreadable, but the slight tension in his jaw told her she had his full attention.
She pulled out a folded piece of paper and slid it across the table.
Dominic didn't reach for it immediately. Instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, as if trying to decide whether opening it was worth the risk. Finally, after a long pause, he picked it up.
The moment his eyes scanned the contents, his posture shifted.
"You've been digging," he muttered.
She nodded. "You had a brother, didn't you?"
A flicker of something—pain, rage—flashed across his face.
"Had," he said tightly.
"Matteo made sure of that," she said softly.
Silence.
Valeria watched him carefully, searching for any sign that he was about to walk away, that she had pushed too far. But Dominic didn't move.
Instead, he exhaled sharply, folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket.
"So, what?" he said finally. "You think we team up, take him down, and you walk away free?"
She met his gaze head-on. "I think we both want justice. And I think you know you can't do it alone."
A slow, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. "Justice? That's a nice word for revenge."
"Call it whatever you want," she said. "The result is the same."
Dominic drummed his fingers on the table, considering.
"If we do this, it won't just be Matteo coming after us," he said. "The entire DeLuca empire will burn us alive."
"Then we make sure we strike first," she countered.
The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he found her audacity amusing.
"You've got some nerve, Valeria."
"I learned from the best."
Dominic studied her for a long moment before nodding slightly.
"Alright," he said finally. "I'm in."
A weight lifted from Valeria's chest, but she knew better than to let herself feel relief.
This was only the beginning.
And the war was just getting started.
They sat in silence for a moment before Dominic shifted forward, his expression serious.
"If we're going to do this, we need a plan," he said. "Matteo isn't just some thug we can take out with a bullet. He has politicians in his pocket, law enforcement under his payroll. This isn't just about revenge—it's about survival."
Valeria nodded. "I know. That's why we don't just hit him. We dismantle him."
Dominic raised an eyebrow. "And how do you suggest we do that?"
She pulled another piece of paper from her coat. This one contained a list of names—Matteo's closest allies, the ones who kept him untouchable.
"We start here," she said, tapping the list. "We cut off his resources, his connections. We make him vulnerable."
Dominic scanned the names, his expression unreadable. "Some of these men are just as dangerous as Matteo."
"Which is why we make them turn on him," Valeria said. "Give them a reason to see him as a liability."
Dominic leaned back, smirking. "You really have been paying attention, haven't you?"
She met his gaze, unwavering. "I told you—I learned from the best."
For the first time that night, Dominic looked genuinely impressed.
"This is going to be fun," he murmured.
Valeria didn't smile.
Because she knew that, before it was over, there would be nothing fun about it.
Just blood.
And vengeance.