265

265
Rosa’s POV
It was late when Allesio finally came back into to the condo. The air between us wasn’t just tense-it felt fragile, like a glass already cracked and on the verge of shattering. But this time, it wasn’t about the Cruz family or Dominic’s death. Something else weighed on him.
“Allesio?” I called softly, setting my book down on the nightstand. He paused in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame like it was the only thing holding him up.
“Rosa.” His voice was low, almost hoarse, and I knew whatever he was carrying wasn’t just another argument waiting to happen.
I stood, crossing the room until I was close enough to see the faint lines of worry etched on his face. “What is it?”
He hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “There’s trouble at the docks.”
My stomach clenched. “Again?” I breathed out.
“Yes. Again,” he murmured in reply.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Alaric got word that a shipment went missing. Weapons, high-grade. Some of the guys think it’s a setup.” His jaw tightened. “And there was a body.”
“A body?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, the weight of his words sinking in.
“Vincent. One of ours.”
I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to steady my breathing. Vincent wasn’t just one of theirs, he had also been Allesio’s friend. I’d seen them laughing together at one of Alaric’s rare dinner gatherings, Vincent teasing Allesio about his refusal to drink wine.
“Did you see it?” I asked softly.
He nodded, his expression hardening. “Yeah. Whoever did it wanted to send a message.”
“What kind of message?”
“That we’re vulnerable.”
The room felt colder suddenly. Vulnerable wasn’t a word people associated with Alaric Castillo or his empire. Vulnerable meant cracks in the foundation, and cracks meant danger-for everyone.
“What’s Alaric going to do?” I asked.
“I don’t know yet. He’s got men investigating, but…” Allesio trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “There’s something about this that doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Why?”
He paced the room, his movements restless. “Because it feels too clean. The missing shipment, Vincent’s death-it’s like someone’s trying too hard to make a point. This wasn’t just a robbery. This was calculated.”
I crossed my arms, watching him. “Do you think it’s someone inside?”
He stopped pacing, his eyes meeting mine. “I don’t know. But if it is, then we’ve got bigger problems than just missing weapons.”
The unspoken truth hung between us: betrayal from within was the kind of rot that could destroy everything.
“What can I do?” I asked.
Allesio shook his head. “Nothing. This isn’t your fight, Rosa.”
I stepped closer, narrowing the gap between us. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out. If this affects you, it affects me. So tell me how I can help.”
He looked at me, his eyes softening just a fraction. “You’re too good for this world,” he muttered.
“And yet, here I am,” I shot back. “So tell me.”
He hesitated, then sighed. “I have to go back to the docks tonight. Alaric’s sending me to check the manifest, see if anything else looks off. I don’t want you involved, but…” He glanced at the door, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I could use the backup.”
I grabbed my coat without hesitation. “Then let’s go.”
The docks were eerily quiet when we arrived, the usual buzz of activity replaced by a heavy stillness. Allesio parked the car a few blocks away, his hand brushing against mine as we stepped out onto the dimly lit street.
“Stay close,” he murmured, his voice low.
I nodded, matching his pace as we moved toward the warehouse. The faint scent of saltwater hung in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of oil and rust.
The warehouse doors were slightly ajar. Allesio frowned, his hand drifting toward the gun holstered at his side.
“Something’s wrong,” he said under his breath.
I tightened my grip on his arm, my pulse quickening. “Do you think they’re still here?”
“Maybe. Stay behind me.”
We slipped inside, the dim overhead lights brightening up the rows of crates and containers. Allesio moved with practiced ease, his movements deliberate and quiet. I followed closely, my heart pounding in my chest.
We reached the central aisle, and that’s when we saw it-a crate pried open, its contents scattered across the floor. Allesio crouched down, examining the markings on the wood.
“This is one of ours,” he muttered, running his fingers over the splintered edge.
“What was inside?”
“Ammo. Enough to supply a small army.”
I swallowed hard, the implications sinking in. “Whoever took this knew exactly what they were doing.”
“Exactly,” he said grimly.
A sudden noise made us both freeze-a faint shuffle, like someone trying to stay hidden. Allesio’s hand shot to his gun, his body tensing as he scanned the shadows.
“Stay here,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
“Allesio-”
“Stay. Here.”
I nodded reluctantly, pressing myself against one of the crates as he moved toward the source of the noise. My breath caught as I watched him disappear into the shadows, every nerve in my body on edge.
The silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Then, a sharp thud echoed through the warehouse, followed by a muffled curse. I moved instinctively, unable to stay hidden any longer.
“Allesio?”
“Rosa, stay back!” his voice barked, but it was too late.
I rounded the corner to find Allesio grappling with a man dressed in black, his face obscured by a ski mask. The man lunged at Allesio with a knife, but Allesio was quicker, twisting the weapon from his grasp and slamming him against a crate.
“Who sent you?” Allesio demanded, his voice cold and commanding.
The man didn’t answer, struggling against Allesio’s grip.
“Who sent you?” Allesio repeated, slamming him harder against the crate.
“Go to hell,” the man spat, his voice distorted by the mask.
Allesio’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might lose control. But then he stepped back, keeping his gun trained on the man.
“You’ve got one chance to talk,” he said evenly. “Otherwise, I’m going to make sure you never walk out of here.”
The man hesitated, his eyes darting between Allesio and the gun.
“It wasn’t personal,” he muttered finally.
“What wasn’t personal?” Allesio pressed.
“The shipment. Vincent. None of it.”
“Then why?”
The man’s gaze flickered to me, and a chill ran down my spine. “Because someone wanted to send a message.”
“Who?”
The man didn’t answer, but the flicker of fear in his eyes told me enough. Whoever was behind this was someone powerful-someone who wasn’t afraid to make enemies.
Allesio’s expression darkened, and without another word, he knocked the man out with the butt of his gun.
“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the exit.
“Allesio, wait-”
“No.” His voice was sharp, his grip on my hand firm. “We’re leaving. Now.”
The ride back to the apartment was silent. Allesio’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white.
“Who do you think it was?” I asked finally.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. But whoever it is, they’re trying to get under Alaric’s skin. And it’s working.”
“What are you going to tell him?”
“The truth,” he said, his voice flat. “He needs to know what we’re up against.”
I nodded, my thoughts swirling.
I turned my head to look at him. His expression was serious, his brows drawn together, as though he was already lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts.
“What are you going to tell Alaric?” I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
He sighed deeply, his eyes still ok the road. “I don’t know yet. I’ll have to tread carefully. Alaric… he doesn’t take uncertainty well. If I tell him that I think the Cruz family might be involved, I’d better have something solid to back it up. Otherwise, it could lead to unnecessary bloodshed.”
The thought sent a chill down my spine. Alaric doesn’t act without precision, but if he felt provoked, there was no telling what he might do. He rules through calculated force, charisma and fear, but his wrath could be merciless when he thought someone had wronged his family and that was why I was scared of having Allesio tell him that Alonso was involved in Dominic’s death.
“Do you think it’s them?” I asked, watching him carefully. “The Cruz family, I mean. Or do you think someone else might be involved?”
Allesio hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he were weighing his words carefully. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low. “The Cruz family has been quiet lately. Too quiet. They’ve been keeping their operations clean, at least on the surface. It doesn’t fit their usual style to go after someone like Vincent. But then again…” He trailed off, his gaze drifting toward the window, as though searching for answers in the night.
“But what?” I pressed, stepping closer, needing to understand.
“Let’s just drop it,” he murmured, rubbing his face with a sigh.