23

23
Alaric’s POV
I paced around the office, checking the time every now and then while I waited for Allesio to give me the signal that all was set. He was monitoring my men as they got the cars ready. I ran a hand through my hair, messing it up without a care. I haven’t spoken to my daughter today, and I haven’t set eyes on Emilia since I went to Francesca’s room this morning. It seemed like they were avoiding me, and now I’d have gone to check one last time but I didn’t have any time to waste at all. I had to be at the port and monitor the men while they do their shit.
“Boss,” Allesio called, poking his head into the office. “All set, boss.”
I grabbed my phone from the table swiftly and walked out of my office, my eyes alert and looking around if I’d see Emilia or my daughter while I was leaving, but I didn’t. I cast that out of my mind, deciding that I’d speak to them later. Francesca was safe in Emilia’s hands and there were men protecting them while I was gone.
I stepped out of the house, the cool night breeze hitting my face. It didn’t last long because my car stopped in front of me not quite long, the driver stepping out and leaving the door open for me to enter. I did, getting behind the wheels while Allesio grudgingly sat beside me in the passenger seat. He probably wanted to be the one to drive.
The moment he shut the door, I stepped on the accelerator, the car speeding out of the open gates ajd five other cars trailing behind me in the same level of speed.
As I stepped onto the cold concrete of the port, the smell of salt and iron hit me. Something was wrong. Very wrong. My men weren’t standing guard like they were supposed to be. And Guiseppe’s men weren’t here too. Is that bastard had outsmarted us-
The moment I saw the first body, sprawled and lifeless, I knew this wasn’t just a simple ambush. And it was not from Guiseppe. My men and Guiseppe’s men lay scattered across the ground, blood pooling beneath them, staining the dark concrete. These weren’t just quick kills-whoever had done this had made a show of it. Which means they had been here since before I got here. My fists clenched as I walked past one of my men, his lifeless eyes staring up at the night sky. This was a massacre.
Allesio was by my side, taking it in just as I was, his face hard, unreadable. He was steady, as always, his hand resting near his gun, his shoulders squared. But I could see the stiffness in his stance. He knew, as well as I did, what this meant. Whoever had done this had guts, more than guts-they were sending a message.
“Alaric,” Allesio’s voice was quiet, cold with anger, “there’s no way this was a random hit. Someone planned this down to the last detail.”
“Obviously,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “The shipment?”
“Gone,” he replied grimly, his face darkening as he looked out at the empty spot where Guiseppe’s containers should’ve been. “They took everything.”
I swore under my breath, running a hand over my face. Months of planning, negotiating, money-it was all gone in an instant, swept away by whoever had dared to strike us like this. I glanced back at the bodies of my men. They had paid the price of this person’s greed or personal vendetta I didn’t know which one it was. It stung, more than I’d admit, but there wasn’t time to mourn now.
Before I could say another word, the low growl of an engine echoed through the port. I turned, watching as a sleek black car pulled up, tires screeching as it came to an abrupt stop. The door opened, and out stepped Don Guiseppe himself. His face was a mask of fury, his eyes scanning the scene with an intensity that would’ve frozen most men in place.
He didn’t waste a second; his gaze fell on me, and he stormed forward, his fists clenched. “Alaric,” he snarled, his voice seething with barely controlled rage, “what the hell happened here?”
“Believe me, Guiseppe,” I said evenly, meeting his glare, “I’m as surprised as you are. My men, just like yours, were here to make sure everything went smoothly.”
“Smoothly?” He gestured to the carnage around us, his face twisted with anger. “This is anything but smooth. This is a massacre! My men… your men… all dead, and the shipment’s gone! Do you realize the consequence of this?”
I kept my voice steady. “Of course I do. Whoever did this wanted to make a statement, that much is clear. But flying off the handle won’t bring them back or recover the shipment.”
He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. “Your man,” he pointed at Allesio, who stood silently by my side, “he better find out who did this. And he better find them fast. Otherwise, we’ll have a blood feud on our hands, and I don’t think either of us wants that.”
Allesio, unfazed by Guiseppe’s pointed glare, simply nodded. “I’ll find out who’s responsible,” he said, his tone calm but deadly. “We’ll make them pay for this. Every single one of them.”
Guiseppe shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Promises, promises,” he sneered, looking back at me. “I need results, Alaric. Not just empty words.”
The fury simmering inside me was close to the surface, but I forced it back. Now wasn’t the time to lose control. “You’ll get results,” I said, my tone sharp, decisive. “But give us time to do it right. Whoever did this had resources, a plan. We won’t go in blind.”
His lips curled into a grim smile, but there was no humor in it. “Time, Alaric, is a luxury I don’t have. I want this handled, and I want it handled now. Understand?”
I nodded, though his words sinking in my mind. I didn’t need him telling me the stakes. Every dead man lying here was a reminder of why I had to find who ever did this. Whoever had orchestrated this would pay. And they’d pay with their blood.
Guiseppe looked around, his gaze resting on one of his fallen men, a young kid with barely a chance to prove himself. I saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, a brief moment of grief. And then, it was gone, replaced by the hard mask of the don he was. “I’ll be waiting,” he said, his voice low. “And if I don’t get answers soon, you’ll find out what happens when I’m not satisfied.”
With that, he turned on his heel, his footsteps echoing across the empty port as he returned to his car. The engine roared to life, and within seconds, he was gone, leaving us alone with the grim silence of the aftermath.
I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in my chest settle, hard and cold. I looked over at Allesio, who was watching me, his face calm but his eyes sharp.
“We’re not walking away from this,” I said, my voice steady, though my anger simmered just below the surface. “Not until we know who did this, and why.”
Allesio nodded. “I’ll start digging,” he said, glancing down at the bodies. “Whoever they are, they’ll regret this.”
“They’d better,” I muttered, looking out over the port. “Because if they don’t… I’ll make them wish they’d never even thought about crossing me.”
As Allesio set to work, calling in the men who had followed us to clear up the scene and bring the bodies of our men back, I stayed there a moment longer, looking around to see if who had done this had left some kind of clue. They hadn’t. They were very very careful then. There was something deeply personal about this attack, something that felt like a message aimed straight at me. This wasn’t just a robbery. This was someone testing my patience, my resolve.
They wanted a war? Fine. They’d get one. And by the time I was done, there wouldn’t be a trace of them left in this city.