"He really didn't hesitate." That was all Giovane said, shaking his head at the sight of the corpse.
He had watched the life vanish in an instant—three bullets straight to the heart.
Still, he smiled. He was with Alexander, following his father's orders to infiltrate the warehouse as a spy. Even though the truth he'd uncovered had surprised him, Giovane remained composed.
I'll be the one to kill you, he thought.
"What do you want to do about Giovane?" Alexander asked.
"Let them be," Giovane smirked. "Let them drown in their own grease." With that, he turned and walked back into the warehouse.
"Throw that away," he ordered casually.
Alexander said nothing.
"Oh—and leave Charles alone for now. I know he has something planned. I can still use him."
Thinking about Charles sent a thrill down Giovane's spine.
"He'll reveal who his allies are himself. Don't worry about my cousins, Roman and Alexander. Even if Charles still has Fuego blood in him, he despises it." Giovane laughed at his own words.
"You really love playing games," Alexander muttered. "But did you hear? He's challenging me."
As they spoke, they reached Giovane's office.
"Alexander," he said, "let your games unfold in the shadows. I have something for you."
He pulled out a photo and handed it over.
"Background check this girl. Her last name is Blanco."
He stared at Thalia's picture with narrowed eyes.
Giovane still harbored a grudge against the Blanco family. Years ago, two journalist siblings—her parents—had almost destroyed the Fuego name.
Though Giovane had fought back using planted evidence to put them behind bars, his father had chosen a bloodier route: silencing anyone who had helped the journalists… including his own sisters.
Giovane had brought the Tejero brothers—Fernan and Vince—into the organization to monitor everything directly.
Fernan, however, grew sly. He tried to help the captive women escape. He failed. Giovane had killed Fernan with his own hands… after forcing him to kill his own sisters.
He had also eliminated any siblings related to the Blancos. Why? Because once the Blanco parents were dead, Giovane believed the clan held no more influence.
Was I wrong not to kill the rest of the Blancos? he wondered.
Is Vince involved in all of this now?
He considered Vince—so far, there had been no sign of rebellion. And Vince had no idea what really happened to Fernan. At least… he hoped not.
Giovane sat in his chair, arms crossed, and let the worst possibilities roll through his mind.
What if Vince knows?
The thought made his stomach twist. Vince was hard to read. He wore a smile, acted approachable—but his thoughts were locked tight.
He wasn't like Fernan, whose moves were always predictable. That's how Giovane had caught him.
What if that was the plan? What if Fernan was sacrificed? What if the trap has already been set?
The questions spiraled.
He still didn't know who was helping Jake from the outside. Those old failed missions—he was sure—hadn't been betrayed from within.
I'm overthinking again, he muttered, rubbing his forehead.
When he looked up, Alexander was gone.
He found a note on the desk, in his familiar handwriting:
"I didn't disturb your thoughts. I'll do what I can. I'll update you—and your father."
Giovane exhaled.
I can't let this go—not with Vince. He's too unpredictable.
That same dream still haunted him—the gunshot, the stare, the unknown shooter. He didn't even know who had pulled the trigger in his nightmare.
I'm not easy to kill. It'll take time to drag me to hell, he thought grimly.
Sleepiness crept in. He hadn't rested since the warehouse incident. He needed strength.
I still don't know how the women escaped, he mused. There was no trace of anyone helping them. How did they even get the keys to their cells?
Just then, someone entered the room. Giovane sat up.
"Boss, we're heading to the dam," the man reported.
"They're with William and Zenne."
Giovane's eyes sharpened. He had assigned that man to spy on the pair.
"Alright, go," he said coldly.
He had already ordered that if they saw any signs of betrayal, the two were to be eliminated—no exceptions.
He regretted involving William and Zenne in the organization. They had once been his finest subordinates.
But that's how it is, he reminded himself. Eliminate anyone who gets in the way of the Fuego family.
He smiled grimly at the thought.
The world keeps turning, and hollow-stomached men like me keep surviving.
So many masks. So many faces. People hide behind them so well.
They say humans are unique… but we're just the best at pretending.
With that, he closed his eyes.
I'll take a nap. Maybe it'll clear this creeping anxiety out of me.