42

42
Alaric’s POV
I sighed a document and pushed it to the side, wanting to dive straight into another document when my phone vibrated with a tone that I had set specifically for Allesio’s texts.
“Meet me at the hideout. Now.”
I read it once again before dropping my pen and puttimg my phone into my pants pocket as I got up from my chair. I didn’t waste time I heading out of the house at all.
I got to Allesio’s hideout barely thirty minutes later. It was a small building tucking into a quiet, dark part of the city. It wasn’t the sort of place anyone would think to look for me, which was the point. Stepping inside, the faint smell of dust and old leather filled my nose and clouded over my senses. Allesio was standing before a table, a grim look on his face as he stared at the stack of papers spread across the table.
“Boss,” he greeted, nodding as I approached. “I’ve been following Ferraro as you requested, and I’ve got everything here. And what I have here…I think it’s evidence enough. We should kill this bastard and get done with it.”
“Let me listen to it,” I murmured, eyeing the small recorder sitting in the middle of all those documents.
Without another word, he gestured to a small recorder sitting on the table. He pressed play and Ferraro’s tone was unmistakable, carrying that same calculated charm he always wielded, but this time, it dripped with an edge of arrogance I hadn’t heard before.
“Alaric is predictable,” Ferraro sneered on the recording. “He’ll waste his time on the Cruz family, barking up the wrong tree, while we shore up our own alliances. By the time he realizes what’s happened, it’ll be too late. I’ll have the upper hand, and he’ll be at my mercy.”
The unknown voice chuckled, a low, grating sound that ground against my nerves. “So, the plan is to bleed him out slowly. Take out his strength piece by piece until he’s got nothing left to defend himself?”
“That’s exactly it,” Ferraro replied. “We’ll take him down piece by piece. I’ll pull the strings and let him fall on his own arrogance.”
Allesio paused the tape, his eyes on me. “There’s more.”
I didn’t answer. My jaw clenched tight, the weight of betrayal heavy in my gut. Ferraro, a man I’d trusted for years, was plotting to take me down from within my own circle, all for what? Ambition? Power? I forced myself to stay calm. I needed to know everything before reacting.
“Play the rest,” I said, my voice coming out like a low growl.
Allesio resumed the recording, and Ferraro’s voice picked up, laying out his plans in ruthless, precise detail.
“It’s simple,” Ferraro continued. “We weaken him first. We start by chipping away at his key alliances-target his men, disrupt his shipments. It’ll look like rival families encroaching on his territory. By the time he’s able to focus on us, we’ll already have half his assets.”
“And when do you plan to make your move?” the unknown man asked.
Vittorio’s chuckle was dark, calculated. “When Alaric’s empire is nothing more than a weakened carcass. When he’s vulnerable and desperate. That’s when we strike, and by then, he’ll have no choice but to hand control over to us.”
Allesio clicked off the recorder, leaving us in silence. The words rang over and over in my head and I scowled. Loyalty could be an illusion, especially in this world.
I felt my hands clenching into fists, but I forced myself to relax, to breathe. Ferraro had underestimated me, assumed my loyalty to him was blind. He believed I’d ignore my instincts, that I wouldn’t see through the ruse he’d created. He was wrong.
“Do we know who the other voice is?” I asked, breaking the silence.
Allesio shook his head. “Not yet. But we’re close. I’ve got men watching Ferraro’s closest contacts. If he meets with this guy in person again, we’ll know.”
I nodded, considering what he was saying. Confronting Ferraro directly would be foolish; it would only force him to strike first, to try to rally the other families against me. No, this had to be handled strategically, surgically. I needed to turn his own game against him.
“We can’t go at him head-on,” I murmured, voicing my thoughts. “If we make a move now, it’ll look like infighting, and he’ll paint himself as the victim. We need something public, undeniable-a way to expose him without risking open war.”
Allesio’s eyes flickered with understanding. “You’re thinking of a meeting with Guiseppe and the other families.”
“Exactly,” I replied, feeling a plan form. “We gather the heads of every allied family, bring them together. Then we lay out the evidence in front of everyone. Ferraro won’t have room to maneuver, and his allies will see him for the traitor he is.”
Allesio gave a sharp nod. “It’s risky, but it could work. We’d have to make sure every angle is covered, no chance for him to weasel out.”
“Trust me, Allesio, there won’t be.”
“Good,” he murmured with a nod and we began planning every step and covering every possible variable. We were going to being this matter to light and expose the bastard in a way that would leave no room for denial. And bu the time we were done, Ferraro would be stripped of any power or influence he holds.
We spent hours strategizing, poring over names and locations, deciding who would be at that meeting, who needed to know what. Allesio was a step ahead, anticipating each move Ferraro could make, mapping out scenarios and contingencies. It was meticulous work, the kind I’d come to rely on him for, and he executed it flawlessly.
When the sun was beginning to rise, Allesio turned to me, tired and exhausted though he wouldn’t admit it. “You should know, Alaric… exposing him like this, it could send shockwaves. Some families might pull their support.”
I nodded, meeting his gaze steadily. “Then let them. I’d rather have a smaller circle of true allies than a syndicate built on deceit.”
Allesio didn’t question me further; he knew where I stood. This wasn’t about numbers or power anymore. This was personal-a betrayal that demanded retribution.
Just as Allesio gathered his things to leave, his phone buzzed with a message. He glanced down, his face darkening.
“It’s from Ferraro’s man,” Allesio said, handing me the phone. I took it, scanning the screen, reading the words that felt like a thinly veiled threat.
“Alaric, I suggest you back off from this investigation. You wouldn’t want unnecessary trouble for you or those close to you.”
My hands tightened around the phone, my anger rising. Ferraro was pushing his luck, testing the limits, thinking he could bully me into submission. He wanted to play these games, to see how far he could go without consequences? He was about to find out just how much of a mistake that was.
“Have our men on alert,” I said, handing the phone back to Allesio. “From here on out, we operate with caution. No one moves alone, and no one engages without my go-ahead.”
Allesio nodded, understanding my command. “And if he pushes again?”
“Then we push back twice as hard,” I replied, my voice cold. “He’s mistaken me for someone who fears a threat. I intend to show him the cost of underestimating me.”