53

53
Alaric’s POV
The thrum of bass from the nightclub seeped through the walls like the beat of a pulse, filling the air with a low, steady vibration. The place was packed tonight, bodies moving on the dance floor like a mass of shadows under the shifting lights. I took a slow breath, letting the scent of sweat, perfume, and alcohol wash over me. It was familiar-too familiar. The kind of place where deals were made in whispers and secrets traded like currency.
Allesio walked beside me, his face set in the hard, impassive mask he wore when we were on business. We cut through the crowd like a blade, the people parting instinctively as if they could sense the danger clinging to us. This was a place where people looked the other way, where nobody wanted to remember your face the next day. It was exactly why we were here.
Our target was a small-time informant, the kind of rat that lived in the sewers of the city, scraping by with whatever scraps he could find. He wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things, but tonight, he was the only thread we had. And I intended to pull on it until it unraveled completely.
We reached a corner booth, shrouded in shadow. The informant was already there, hunched over a drink that looked like it had been poured hours ago. He looked up as we approached, his eyes wide and skittish, like a rabbit caught in a trap. His name was Henry, and he was known for knowing things he shouldn’t. The kind of knowledge that got people killed if they weren’t careful.
“Alaric,” he stammered, his voice barely audible over the music. He glanced at Allesio, then back at me, swallowing hard. “I didn’t think you’d come yourself.”
I slid into the booth across from him, Allesio standing at my side like a sentry. “Consider it a personal courtesy,” I said. My voice was calm, but there was a razor edge to it. I wasn’t here for pleasantries. “You have information for me, don’t you, Henry?”
He licked his lips, darting another nervous glance at Allesio. “Y-yeah. I do. But listen, man, this isn’t the usual kind of deal. I didn’t want to get involved, but they-”
“Stop wasting my time.” I leaned forward, lowering my voice. The tone of command came naturally, a deep, controlled menace that had him shrinking back. “Who is behind the threats against me? Who’s targeting my daughter?”
Henry’s hand trembled as he reached for his drink, but he didn’t dare take a sip. Instead, he leaned closer, as if afraid someone might overhear. “It’s… it’s not who you think,” he whispered. “There’s a new group in town. At least, I thought they were new. But then I started hearing rumors, old names resurfacing. They call themselves ‘The Nightshade Syndicate.'”
For a moment, the noise of the club fell away, replaced by a roaring in my ears. The Nightshade Syndicate. It was a name I hadn’t heard in years, a ghost from a past I thought had been buried. They were a ruthless, elusive group that had once rivaled the most powerful families in the city, including mine. But they’d been dissolved, wiped out after a bloody conflict that left their leadership decimated. Or so I’d believed.
“You’re sure?” I asked, my voice deadly quiet. The calm before the storm.
Henry nodded frantically. “I’m sure. I didn’t believe it at first, but then I heard the name again, and it kept coming up. They’re moving in the shadows, trying to stay off the radar, but they’re here. And they’re coming after you, Alaric. They know about Francesca.”
I forced myself to stay still, to keep my breathing even, but inside, a cold fury was building. If the Nightshade Syndicate was truly back, it meant I had underestimated a threat I’d thought long dead. It meant the city was about to get a lot bloodier.
Allesio stepped forward, leaning over the table. He didn’t have to say anything. The look on his face was enough-a promise of pain if Henry was lying or withholding anything.
“They’ve been using small-time players like me,” Henry continued, his voice shaky. “To pass messages, to gather intel. They don’t want to be seen, not yet. They’re testing the waters, seeing how far they can push before you notice.”
“Well, I’ve noticed,” I said, my voice like steel. “Who’s leading them now? The old leadership is gone. Who stepped in?”
“I don’t know!” Henry blurted, panic flaring in his eyes. “I swear, I don’t know. They’re keeping it quiet, even from the street level guys. But there’s talk-it’s someone new, someone with a lot of pull. They’ve got resources, Alaric. More than I’ve seen in a long time.”
I leaned back, considering this. If what he was saying was true, then the Nightshade Syndicate wasn’t just back-they were stronger than before. And they were coming for me through the one person they knew I couldn’t ignore.
I stood up abruptly, and Henry flinched. “If you’re lying,” I said coldly, “I’ll make sure you don’t live long enough to regret it.”
“I’m not lying,” he insisted. “I’m telling you everything I know. Just… please, let me walk away from this.”
I didn’t respond. Allesio threw a few bills on the table-more than enough to keep Henry’s mouth shut. Without another word, we left the booth and pushed our way back through the crowd. The music seemed louder now, more chaotic, like the pounding of a war drum.
As soon as we stepped outside, the cool night air hit me like a slap in the face. I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head. Allesio was at my side, his expression as grim as I’d ever seen it.
“The Nightshade Syndicate,” he said, almost to himself. “I thought they were wiped out.”
“So did I,” I muttered. “Clearly, we were wrong.”
“Do you think it’s a bluff?” he asked, falling into step beside me as we headed toward the car. “Maybe they’re using the name to scare you.”
“No.” I shook my head. “If they’re using the name, it’s because they want me to know. They want me on edge, uncertain. It’s a declaration.”
Allesio nodded, his jaw clenched. “Then we need to hit back. Hard.”
“We will,” I said. But my mind was already spinning, trying to fit this new information into the puzzle. The threats, the resurfacing of an old enemy, the focus on Francesca. It was all connected, but I couldn’t see how yet.
As we drove back to the mansion, a heavy silence settled between us. Allesio kept glancing at me, waiting for me to say something, to give an order. But for once, I didn’t have one. I needed time to think, to plan.
When we pulled up to the house, I noticed the increased security right away. Guards were stationed at every entrance, their eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of a threat. I had doubled the patrols after the letter, but now it felt like it wasn’t enough.
As I stepped inside, I found Emilia waiting in the hallway. Her expression softened when she saw me, but I could see the worry etched in the lines of her face. She could sense my unease, feel the tension radiating off me.
“Is everything alright?” she asked quietly, her eyes searching mine.
“Just business,” I said, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
But I could tell she didn’t believe me. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You’re on edge, Alaric. I can see it. Is it… is It about the letter?”
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I reached out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. It was an oddly intimate gesture, one I hadn’t intended, but it felt right in the moment. “Yes,” I admitted finally. “It might be connected.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away. “What does it mean?”
“It means,” I said, my voice low and hard, “that we have an old enemy back in the game. And they’re playing for keeps.”
She swallowed, her face pale. “What do we do?”
“We stay vigilant,” I said. “And we don’t let them see us sweat.”
I looked at her, standing there with worry in her eyes, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d already made a mistake by letting her into this world. Because now, she wasn’t just a bystander. She was a target. And that was something I couldn’t afford.