36

36
Alaric’s POV
My office was silent, broken only by the occasional shuffle of papers or the ticking of the clock on the wall. Allesio sat across from me, sorting through the information we’d managed to piece together from the ambush. He had stacks of shipping manifests, receipts, and contact notes spread out between us on the desk. But nothing added up the way it should.
I picked up one of the documents, the supposed shipping manifest for Guiseppe’s cargo that night. It looked official enough on the surface, stamped and signed, but something was wrong. The scheduled time didn’t line up; the seal on the bottom corner seemed off, almost too perfect, as if someone had gone through the trouble to make it look unremarkable.
“Here.” I slid the manifest over to Allesio, tapping a finger over the time. “Does that seem right to you?”
Allesio squinted, eyes narrowing as he read over the time. “It doesn’t. The ship wasn’t even scheduled to be at the port by that time of the night. Whoever organized this wanted it to look sloppy, but this is a different level of oversight.”
I leaned back in my chair, eyes fixed on the mess of papers. “Then we’re looking at someone who had enough access to Guiseppe’s schedule to make changes, but not enough foresight to cover their own tracks.”
“Or,” Allesio countered, “someone who wanted us to find these tracks.”
The Cruz family had a history of stirring up trouble. We’d caught them skirting the line more than once, testing boundaries, pushing buttons. Lately, they’d been working with smaller gangs, arranging minor hits on low-priority assets. This ambush felt bigger, though. Sloppier. And while the Cruz family was no stranger to reckless tactics, something about it didn’t sit right with me.
“Let’s keep digging,” I said, motioning for Allesio to continue.
He passed me another document, this one a transaction receipt that looked equally suspicious. The signatures didn’t match up with the names listed on the manifest. And the more I looked at it, the more it felt like the Cruz family was being set up.
“Think about it,” I said to Allesio. “If the Cruz family did this, they’d know we’d suspect them. Why make it so obvious?”
“Because they’re arrogant? Desperate?” Allesio suggested, but even he didn’t sound convinced.
I shook my head. “No, there’s something off here. We’re not dealing with their usual mess. Whoever planned this wanted to make it look like a careless job.”
We continued to sift through paperwork and notes, looking for patterns, anything that would confirm the Cruz family’s involvement or point us in another direction. Names of known associates started popping up. Some of Guiseppe’s men mentioned hearing rumors-whispers of an ambush, though nothing specific, as if the details had been intentionally withheld from everyone involved. It was frustrating, like piecing together a jigsaw puzzle only to find half the pieces were missing.
One of Allesio’s contacts, a dock worker we’d paid off to keep an eye on the shipments, had said he saw unfamiliar faces on the night of the ambush. Men who didn’t quite fit with the usual Cruz crew but were mingling like they belonged. I mulled over that detail, feeling my suspicions deepen. It was one thing for the Cruz family to go rogue, but if they were teaming up with another group, this could mean a far bigger problem.
“Call that dock worker in,” I told Allesio. “I want to know every detail he remembers from that night.”
Half an hour later, Allesio returned with the dock worker, a wiry man named Mario. I could practically feel the nervous energy bouncing off him. He sat down, avoiding eye contact, wringing his hands together.
“Mario,” I began calmly, “we’re just looking for information. Anything you can remember from that night.”
Mario swallowed hard, glancing at Allesio before looking down at his shoes. “There were men, boss. Like I told Allesio here. Big guys, too clean-cut. Not the usual crowd.”
“Clean-cut?” I pressed. “Explain.”
“They didn’t look like the dock rats,” he said, fidgeting. “Didn’t look like Cruz men either. I swear, they were just… different.”
I exchanged a look with Allesio. Different could mean a lot of things, but it hinted at an outside player, someone with their own agenda. The Cruz family had a certain roughness to them; they rarely bothered with formalities or subtlety.
“Anything else?” I asked.
Mario hesitated, then nodded. “They were talking to one of Guiseppe’s guys. Quiet, like they didn’t want to be overheard. When I got closer, they shut up and moved away.”
“And?” I asked, pressing further.
“That’s all, boss,” he murmured.
“Okay. You can leave.”
After Mario left, I leaned back, thinking over his words. A plan was forming in my mind, one that I didn’t particularly like. But if the Cruz family wasn’t behind the ambush, then that meant someone else was. And that someone had resources, patience, and a desire to stay under the radar.
“We can’t assume anything yet,” I said to Allesio. “The Cruz family may still be involved, but I want to know who these other players are. Dig into recent arrivals in the city. Anyone who’s had contact with Guiseppe’s men in the last month.”
Allesio nodded, understanding the urgency without needing me to explain further. The Cruz family had been a distraction, I realized, a decoy to divert us from the real enemy.
The hours passed by in a blur and we continued interviewing each of Allesio’s contacts who were at the docks that night. All of them had said practically the same thing, hunting at an involvement from unknown sources cryptic, vague and frustratingly inconclusive. But one thing became clear to me. If the Cruz family were involved, they were playing a smaller role than we initially thought. It felt like someone was using them as a front, a smoke screen to cover their own tracks.
“Do you believe it’s the Cruz family?” Allesio asked as the night went on.
“At first, yes,” I admitted, my voice tense. “Now… I’m not so sure. They’re reckless, not strategic. This has strategy written all over it.”
Allesio nodded, contemplating the possibility. “Who would benefit from making it look like they were behind it?”
“Anyone who wanted to disrupt Guiseppe’s operations without drawing too much attention to themselves,” I replied, more to myself than to him.
We kept our conversation going late into the night, each of us offering theories, trying to untangle the knot that had been tied around Guiseppe’s business. Every new lead only led to more questions. By the time the clock struck three in the morning, we were no closer to figuring out the true culprit than we had been at the start of the night. I was tired, frustrated, and not about to let some nameless rival get away with this.
As Allesio sifted through a few more documents, his phone buzzed. He checked it, his face tightening as he read the message. When he looked up, I saw something in his expression that put me on edge.
“What is it?” I asked, leaning forward.
“We have more evidence,” Allesio replied. “Turns out the Cruz family didn’t have any of their men near the port on the night of the ambush. One of our contacts just confirmed they were halfway across the city, handling another job.”
The revelation hit me like a punch to the gut. If the Cruz family wasn’t even near the port, then they couldn’t have been behind the ambush. Everything I’d been suspecting had been wrong.
I clenched my fists, barely keeping my frustration in check. The pieces were slipping through my fingers faster than I could grab them. This wasn’t just an ambush; it was a calculated move to throw us off balance, make us look in all the wrong places.
“So we’re back to square one,” I said through gritted teeth. “The Cruz family was a dead end.”
Allesio nodded, his face reflecting the same frustration I felt. “But now we know someone else is playing us. Someone with enough knowledge to use the Cruz family’s reputation against them-and against us.”
The realization left a bitter taste in my mouth. This wasn’t just business as usual. Someone was trying to undermine us from within, using the Cruz family as a pawn in their scheme. And the worst part was, I still didn’t know who.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples as I thought of all the possible people it could be. Whoever had orchestrated this knew exactly what they were doing. They’d used our suspicions against us, feeding into our assumptions and making sure we’d waste valuable time chasing shadows.
But they’d made one crucial mistake-they’d underestimated me. Whoever this mystery player was, they were about to find out just how dangerous it was to cross me.
“We’ll continue this later in the morning,” I murmured, getting up from my chair and rubbing my eyes. “I need some rest.”
“Yes boss,” Allesio answered, nodding his head once too, before walking out after me.