GIO
As I swung the door open, a corridor stretched before us, empty but for the distant echo of the ongoing party. A quick glance at the surroundings confirmed it was clear for the moment. I shot a discreet signal to Dario, who was waiting in the shadows, and once his nod gave me the go-ahead, I widened the door’s opening and led Millie forward.
Our journey through the corridors was a cautious dance, every step calculated and deliberate. Millie’s grip tightened on my hand as we navigated the twists and turns, heading toward Sebastian’s room. The air was heavy with anticipation, like the calm before a storm. A firm knock on the door yielded no response. Frustration clenched my jaw Sebastian was likely occupied, wrapped up in his own pleasures. I knocked harder, desperation urging me on, but still, silence from within.
Millie’s worried expression met mine, her unspoken fears mirroring my own. With a determined resolve, I slammed my fist against the wood, the sound echoing through the room. At last, the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Sebastian in nothing but his boxers, an irritating smirk playing on his lips, and an unexpected presence of an unwelcome bulge.
“Didn’t the concept of silence reach you when you ignored my damn call?” I snapped, my patience fraying at the edges. My gaze flicked beyond him for a fleeting moment a bad feeling gnawed at the edges of Sebastian’s consciousness.
He shifted his attention beyond me, his expression contorting into a grimace. “This feels… off.”
My patience snapped. With a forceful shove, I pushed Sebastian back. “Seriously, Sebastian, picking up a phone isn’t rocket science. Get dressed. We’re leaving, now.”
Concerned voices arose from behind him as Harper, clad in a satin robe that told its own story, appeared in the doorway. Her lips were swollen, evidence of recent indulgence. The tension in the room was palpable, Millie’s hand clutching mine with increased intensity.
Sienna’s voice cut through the silence, a stark statement hanging in the air. “He’s dead.”
Harper’s response was startlingly callous. “Good. You did it, didn’t you?” Her hand patted Dario’s shoulder in a strangely congratulatory manner.
A tight smile tugged at Dario’s lips. “Yeah, and that’s exactly why we need to hurry.”
Dario’s words held the gravity of our situation. “He’s right. We can’t afford to linger here. We need to get out before someone realizes the groom is no longer among the living,” I interjected, my patience eroding rapidly.
Sebastian’s grin was surprisingly light given the circumstances. “I always thought I’d be the one to spark war between the Outfit and the Famiglia. Well done, Dario, for proving me wrong.”
Dario’s response was tinged with history. “I had my doubts too.”
It was clear that we had all underestimated Dario. But the moment for introspection was fleeting we needed to leave, and quickly. Sebastian and Harper dressed in a hurry, and as a collective unit, we resumed our tense procession through the house. Each footfall was a reminder of the danger lurking in the shadows.
We descended a concealed back staircase to the ground floor, our destination set on the underground garage a common feature in these limited outdoor spaces. Footsteps sounded from a nearby corridor, an alarm bell in my mind. Instinct kicked in, and I readied my gun, bracing for a confrontation. Sebastian and Dario mirrored my readiness. Our silent progress had been too smooth; it was time to brace for adversity. Even with suppressors, a gunshot could alert others.
Then, a figure turned the corner blond hair providing the sole lifeline that prevented a hasty trigger pull. Karsen. Millie’s sharp gasp resonated beside me, her hand twitching. I held her firmly, preventing her from rushing forward. Karsen’s untrained demeanor was clear his emotions played across his face like an open book, first fear, then suspicion.
Millie’s palm pressed against my arm, urging me to lower my weapon. My eyes remained locked on Karsen, gun unwavering. His gaze met mine, determined but uncertain. He spoke, his voice surprisingly firm, an attempt to match the gravity of the situation.
“What’s happening here?” Karsen demanded, his stance attempting to convey a maturity he hadn’t fully earned. His gun was pointed at us, and it was clear he was conflicted, not fully committed to his role.
“Lower that weapon,” I commanded, my tone uncompromising.
Karsen’s laughter echoed through the dimly lit room, yet its edges carried an unmistakable tremor, and his gaze bore the weight of hidden fear. It was a reaction forged from the crucible of survival, a skill he would need to hone if he aspired to thrive within the unforgiving realm of the Outfit-assuming he managed to see another day. Amid the shadowy uncertainty, his resolve to appear unfazed flickered. The odds were stacked against him, a truth that seemed to weigh heavily upon his conscience.
With an air of determination, he retorted, “No way. I want to know what’s going on.” His eyes traversed the space, shifting from Millie to Harper, and finally settling on Sienna.
Millie, her curiosity tinged with a hint of concern, inquired, “And why exactly are you parading around with a firearm? Shouldn’t you be getting your rest?” Her body made a motion forward, halted only by my intervention as I pulled her gently back.
“Guard duties,” Karsen replied, his tone touched by a hint of pride, as if he were wearing a badge of honor.
“But you haven’t been officially initiated yet,” Sienna interjected, confusion painting her features.
“I embarked on the initiation process a few weeks ago. This marks my maiden assignment,” Karsen asserted, his grip on the weapon revealing a slight quiver. Even in the absence of imminent threat, it was evident that he stood little chance against our collective might, poised as we were, guns trained on him. Personally, I preferred incapacitation over fatality, driven not only by self-preservation but by a deep-seated concern for the woman by my side.
“Father assigned it to you, thinking it would be a straightforward task, correct? After all, weddings hardly harbor any sinister twists,” Sienna interjected, a mirthless chuckle punctuating her words.
“He entrusted me with the task due to my sense of responsibility and competence,” Karsen declared, squaring his shoulders. His gaze darted, a nervous dance between me, Sebastian, and Dario.
“You can’t seriously entertain the notion of taking down the three of us,” Sebastian chimed in, a wicked grin curving his lips.
Harper shot him a disapproving look. “Shut it, Sebastian.”
Nonetheless, Karsen held his ground, asserting, “I can attempt it.”
Beside me, Millie’s grip tightened, her gaze a fervent plea.
“Karsen,” I addressed him, my tone aiming for rationality even as the seconds ticked against us, a relentless reminder of our dwindling chances. “They’re your sisters. Do you genuinely wish to put them at risk?”
“Why is Sienna here, then? Why isn’t she with her husband? I need to understand what’s transpiring,” Karsen inquired, his voice tinged with a mix of bewilderment and skepticism. “And why are you intent on spiriting her away? She’s an integral part of the Outfit, not New York.”
“I can’t remain here, Karsen. Recall the time when you advised against my marriage to Arman? Remember how you deemed it unsuitable?” Sienna interjected.
“That was ages ago, and you just agreed to marry him today. Speaking of which, where is he?” Karsen’s gaze shifted to Dario, a look passing between them that conveyed more than mere words could.
“Young as he is, even a twelve-year-old would discern that expression,” Sienna uttered with a glance toward Dario, a silent confirmation.
“You did away with him, didn’t you?” Karsen hissed, his gun poised once again. “Was this all a ploy to undermine the Outfit? Father always predicted you’d one day stab us in the back.”
Millie’s movements signaled her intent to step forward again, yet I halted her with a piercing stare.
Her eyes narrowed. “He’s my brother.”
“He’s a soldier of the Outfit,” I interjected, mindful of the need to prioritize our allegiances even amidst this turmoil.
“Karsen, the Famiglia didn’t orchestrate this to weaken the Outfit. It’s not about power. The blame lies squarely with me. Arman sought to harm me, and in my defense, I struck out. That’s why I must flee. Father would administer punishment, perhaps even a death sentence,” Sienna explained, her voice a soothing balm amidst the mounting tension.
A step backward. “You killed your own husband?” Karsen’s finger pointed toward Dario, accusation gleaming in his eyes.
“I was left with no alternative.”
His gaze flickered to Dario. “And what about you and him? I’m not naive. Something’s transpiring between you two.”
“We’ve been together for some time. Marrying Arman was never my choice, but Father allowed no other option,” Sienna confessed.
“So you’re aiming to leave Chicago, the Outfit, for New York, akin to Harper and Millie,” Karsen mused.
Sienna’s nod was resolute. “Yes, I must.”
Millie’s voice held a suggestion, a flicker of hope. “You could join us.”
In her gaze, a plea. Mine met hers, conveying the shared desire for escape.