GIO
In an instant, my gun was trained on the source of the voice, the darkness providing only a vague outline of the figure before me. “Step forward,” I commanded, my voice a low growl.
And he complied, stepping into the dim light with his hands raised, that same twisted smile playing on his lips. There was a defiance in his posture, a boldness that bordered on recklessness. He held himself as if taunting danger, unafraid of the lethal instruments pointed in his direction. My silent nod to Sebastian was all he needed, his swift movement closing the distance between him and the stranger, a gleaming knife pressed against the man’s throat.
Still, the stranger’s composure held firm, his gaze unyielding as it remained locked on mine. He made no attempt to resist, no flinch of fear as Sebastian’s blade pressed against his skin. It was as if he had expected this encounter, had prepared for it with a twisted sort of anticipation.
I closed the gap, my gun and knife now within inches of the stranger. “Tape?” I questioned Sebastian, the need for restraints evident.
A shake of his head indicated the absence of such tools. But the stranger’s voice, a strange blend of defiance and eerie calm, offered a curious reassurance. “I won’t scream.”
A dangerous smile tugged at my lips, a promise of imminent pain. “We shall see,” I retorted softly, the question that hung in the air demanding an answer. “Who are you?”
The smile on his face widened, pushing the boundaries of sanity, and in that moment, something inside me snapped. My grip tightened around his arm, and my knife descended, a swift and calculated motion. Sebastian’s hand covered the stranger’s mouth, a precaution that turned out to be unnecessary. The stranger shuddered, his reaction a silent admission of agony, yet he made no sound, his eyes locked on mine.
Sebastian’s gaze met mine, his silent inquiry needing no words. As his hand withdrew, revealing the stranger’s unbroken silence, I let my anger smolder, my patience reaching its limits.
“Who are you?” I demanded, the edge in my voice a reflection of my waning restraint.
“Alonzo Bianchi,” he replied, his voice carrying an unsettling blend of confidence and audacity.
The weight of those two words hit me like a blow. “And what brings you to my territory?” My tone dripped with a mixture of intrigue and menace.
His answer, a brazen declaration of his intent, hung in the air, a challenge that defied all expectations. “Looking for an alliance. I intend to take down my father and his men, claiming dominion over Vegas. You can choose to stand beside me as an ally or stand against me as an enemy the choice is yours.”
Sebastian’s incredulous snort echoed my own thoughts, the absurdity of the situation not lost on either of us. “To think that there’s someone out there even crazier than you and me.”
My gaze remained locked with Alonzo’s, a silent exchange that conveyed more than words ever could. A chill of foreboding crept down my spine as I allowed a glimmer of amusement to touch my features. “How about I end you right now?”
His response, a calculated revelation, cut through the air, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “Then my brother will have no choice but to pay a visit to your beloved wife.”
In an instant, the world around me narrowed, the focus of my rage now consuming my every thought. My fingers tightened around his throat, my grip unforgiving. “What did you just say?”
“Your penthouse,” he spoke with a sinister calmness. “It’s a fortress. But even the strongest fortresses have weak points. There’s one window in a nearby skyscraper, offering a perfect line of sight to your rooftop’s banister. A difficult shot, but not impossible. My brother Nicolo is capable of that shot. Your wife, she’s there, leaning on that banister, exposed. A single pull of the trigger and…”
The implications of his words hit me like a tidal wave. I released my hold on him, the gravity of the situation pressing down on me with a force I hadn’t anticipated. Sebastian’s gaze held mine, his own knife lowered, a shared understanding passing between us.
In the midst of the darkness, a disturbing alliance had been proposed, and the shadow of an impending storm cast its foreboding presence over us all.
With a torrent of barely contained fury coursing through me, I confronted him. My emotions were a tempest within, but I knew that displaying vulnerability would only give him an advantage. Alonzo, I suspected, was well-versed in exploiting weaknesses.
“I demand to know your intentions,” I spat out, the words carrying the weight of my anger.
He seemed unperturbed by my anger, meeting my gaze directly. “All I seek is your undivided attention,” he replied calmly, as if discussing the weather. “Rest assured, I have no desire to harm your wife.” He nonchalantly raised his arm, displaying a fresh cut, then brought it to his lips, drawing the blood away. It was a macabre display, almost theatrical. “My request is simple: Stay away from my conflict, and under no circumstances aid my father, regardless of his enticements. I’m on the verge of assuming the role of Capo, and I want this encounter etched in your memory,” he added, his lips and teeth stained by his own blood.
He was a mixture of madness and danger, a volatile combination.
Taking a deliberate step back, he continued, his demeanor shifting slightly. “You initially inquired whether I stand as an ally or adversary.”
He inclined his head, his gaze locked onto mine. “It appears you could use more time to contemplate this. Maybe someday, we can rectify a long-standing oversight: the annihilation of the Outfit, with the division of its territory between us. When my father eventually reaches out to you, remember that I could have extinguished your wife’s life but chose not to, Gio.” His words hung heavy in the air, underscored by the eerie sight of his blood-stained mouth. “I don’t covet your realm, yet I’m resolute in claiming what belongs to me. I’ll go to any lengths to achieve that.”
With deliberate slowness, he began to withdraw, fading into the shadows until only his presence lingered. The roar of a motorcycle’s engine announced his departure.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I yanked my phone from my back pocket and dialed Millie’s number.
The instant she answered, urgency laced my voice. “Get indoors. Now.”
She audibly gasped but didn’t waste time questioning. “Gio, what’s happening?”
“Where are you?” I barked, already rushing toward my car. Sebastian trailed behind me, coordinating with Leonardo to mobilize all available troops in search of Nicolo and Alonzo Bianchi.
“In the living room. Leonardo’s closing the shutters. What’s going on?”
“Stay put.”
Ending the call, I sprinted, anger and fear intermingling and fueling my adrenaline.
Sebastian’s voice seethed beside me. “What the hell just occurred?”
“It’s a warning,” I ground out. The De Fiore had never posed a significant concern for me. That had unequivocally changed.
The instant I strode into the penthouse, Millie rushed toward me, and I clutched her to my chest. Massimo stood nearby, joining Leonardo in protective vigilance. Confusion and trepidation filled her gaze. “What’s unfolding? Why is everyone so tight-lipped?”
“Just a false alarm,” I reassured her, though her expression reflected skepticism.
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before turning to Massimo. “Locate a skilled sniper. I want to identify that vantage point.” With a swift nod, he disappeared on his mission.
The revelation of the sniper’s position only came when a letter materialized two days later, affixed to the Sphere’s door. The missive provided directions. I couldn’t afford to engage in Alonzo Bianchi’s enigmatic game. Mathias and the Outfit retained my unwavering focus. The De Fiore’s intrusion had added an unwelcome layer of complexity to my already demanding circumstances.