Page 62 of Intrigue
Alessandro
The heat is intense, and not just from the fire of the building in front of us. Every muscle in my body tightens as I stand, shielding Selene from the impending chaos. The Moretti family has arrived, their wrath a tangible force, driven by decades of vengeance. The Don’s men, bloodthirsty and relentless, are equally enraged, and the entire atmosphere smells of ashes, gunpowder and betrayal.
“Stay behind me, Selene,” I command, scanning the perimeter. Her hand grips my arm tightly, a fleeting moment before the storm.
My mind races through every possibility, every calculation I meticulously made over the years. Overthrowing Don Marconi was never about brute strength alone; it was a game of patience, strategy, deception, and above all—timing.
For five long years, I navigated treacherous waters, carefully selecting allies from among Marconi’s own rivals. Men who hated the Don as fiercely as I did. Yet betrayal lurked around every corner, and loyalty was a fragile currency. To outmaneuver a man like Marconi, I had to play smarter, sharper. I created two separate lists of powerful contacts, men equally influential and dangerous. One list I courted openly, baiting Marconi into exposing his spies and traps. As expected, sabotage followed, proving my suspicions correct.
The second list I approached differently and quietly, anonymously, yet with clarity. A single, powerful message conveyed through clandestine channels: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The mutual hatred for Marconi was a commonground, strong enough to unite bitter rivals. Trust was thin, but necessity forged alliances where friendship never could.
Tonight, those carefully cultivated alliances come alive. I glance toward the entrance as Bianchi and my reinforcements surge in, powerful and ruthless just exactly as planned. These were products of years of strategic maneuvering. Each man fighting beside me tonight does so not from blind loyalty, but because their hatred for Marconi eclipses their doubts.
The first shots ring out, and I move, a well-oiled machine built for survival. My focus is singular: keep her alive.
“You killed my my cousin!” Giovanni Moretti’s voice thunders through the gallery. “Made us believe he died in some petty mob war and we ended an entire lineage. All while his daughter lived under your roof!”
Don Marconi laughs and it is so hollow. “Adriano was a prick who died way too easily. Thought he could steal my wife, my power. The fool deserved what he got.”
“She’s our blood!” Another Moretti charges forward, fury incarnate. “You kept her from us for over twenty years!”
“Your precious Adriano’s bastard?” Don spits. “I should have drowned her at birth. Instead, I raised her, watched her grow into his mirror image. Every day, a reminder of his betrayal.”
Selene’s fingers dig into my arm. “You murdered my father. My mother.”
“And you murdered my blood,” Giovanni snarls, gun trained on Selene. “Edoardo was meant to finish what his father couldn’t start. And I wasn’t supposed to interfere in all of this because it wasn’t my place but I’m here now to avenge their deaths.”
“Edoardo was a rapist piece of shit,” I cut in, voice sharp as steel. “He got exactly what he deserved.”
The Don’s laugh echoes again. “Such loyalty, Sandro. All these years, plotting against me. Building your little army. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“You noticed nothing,” I reply coldly. “Too busy playing your games, sacrificing your own daughter.”
“She was never mine!” His composure finally cracks. “And now the Morettis can have what’s left of her. After I finish what I started twenty years ago.”
The first shot splits the air. I move fast, shoving Selene behind a pillar of a nearby abadoned building as bullets spray every where. My men engage, precise and deadly. The Morettis scatter, taking cover, some running into the building we take cover at, and returning fire at both us and the Don’s crew.
The Moretti and Don’s men collide in a bloody, violent dance, and I plunge into the fray. My movements are swift, calculated. I disarm one attacker, twisting his wrist until the bones crunch. A swift knee to his face ensures he won’t get up again. Another man falls victim to a brutal elbow to the throat.
As I clear a path on one end, Bianchi and my reinforcements stayed close behind and attack. It’s a calculated risk bringing them here, but I’ve spent years weaving this web of alliances. We fight with ruthless efficiency, each kill pushing our enemies back. But they keep advancing and run inside further inside the building.
Blood spatters across marble floors. Bodies fall. And from one corner of the fight, we hear a beep before an explosion happens and we duck. It takes out one side of the buildingand a secondhe fire roars louder, consuming priceless furnituresand worthless men alike. Through smoke and chaos, I catch glimpses of Selene fighting. She takes down one of the Don’s men with brutal efficiency, her mother’s daughter to the core.
A bullet whizzes past my ear. I duck, roll, come up firing. Two more Morettis drop. Bianchi appears at my flank, providing cover as we push toward the back exit.
“Alessandro! Behind you!” Selene’s voice cuts through the noise. I pivot, just in time to see Cassian crawling through the wreckage, gun in hand.
I spin, furious. Cassian stands, trembling, gun shaking in his hand. “You destroyed everything!” he screams.
There’s no time to react as his shot grazes my shoulder, a searing line of pain.
“Bianchi, cover me,” I instruct, advancing on Cassian. He’s screaming, a man desperate for a retribution he’ll never achieve. I disarm him, my movements a blur. I rush him, grabbing his wrist, twisting hard until it snaps. Cassian cries out, weapon clattering to the ground.
With a satisfying crack, his arm breaks under my grip.
“You think you can take her from me?” I snarl, kicking him in the ribs, having him gasping in the dust. “I should’ve broken you sooner,” I hiss and he collapses, clutching his shattered arm. “I showed you mercy just because I thought you’d realize when your time was up and make yourself scarce, Cassian. But if you reject that mercy, then suffer my wrath.” I deliver another vicious kick to his ribs. “I should have ended this long ago. You’re nothing. Never show your face around her again.”
I leave him there, watching him writhe before turning away. Blood soaks through my sleeve as Selene calls my name sharply. I turn just as she swings heavy metal into the head of a Moretti charging from behind. He collapses immediately.