Dante:
Me and Jake had spent hours—long, dragging hours—trying to figure out who the hell killed Fabio. And yet, no matter how deep we dug, every trail ended in silence. No names. No threats. Just the cold body of a man who'd once called me brother, lying dead because of something that had to do with me.
Jake was pacing back and forth across the marble floor of the penthouse, his jaw clenched, voice tight with irritation. "Man, without me and you—no one lives in this damn penthouse," he muttered. "So how the f*** is all this leaking out?"
I stayed still, slumped on the couch, the edge of a glass pressing into my palm. The city outside shimmered through the tall windows, but I wasn't looking at it. I was staring straight ahead, too still, too quiet. But then—it hit me.
I stood up abruptly. "I know," I said, my voice low and deadly certain.
Jake paused mid-step, looking at me like I'd lost my mind. "Huh?" His arms crossed, eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"
I met his gaze. "No one lives here, right? No staff, no maids, no f***ing cooks. It's just us. Then how the hell are our conversations leaking out?" My voice dropped to a whisper, filled with venom. "There's a hidden recorder. Someone planted it."
Jake's eyes widened instantly, realization hitting him too. "That's a real possibility…" he muttered, already moving. "Let's find that damn thing."
We turned the place upside down. Behind the curtain rods, inside the bookshelves, under the glass table, beneath the rug. Nothing. Every corner of this place was checked, and yet...
Then it hit me again—clear as f***ing daylight.
A memory.
That day... Alessia.
She was sitting on this very couch, all dressed up, her fake lashes blinking too much, her smile too sweet. I remember standing up, telling her I'd get us drinks—just to get a damn break from her suffocating presence. When I came back, she had her hand shoved deep into the corner of the couch.
"What is it, Alessia?" I had asked, casually. Her body jumped slightly like I'd caught her red-handed.
"My earring," she said, smiling nervously. "It fell in there. I was just looking for it."
I nodded like a fool, not even suspecting anything then.
Now? It made perfect f***ing sense.
I turned around, my boots thudding against the wooden floor as I marched back to that same couch. I crouched down, shoved my hand deep into the exact corner—and there it was.
Small. Black. Hidden in fabric folds.
A recorder.
That b***.*
"Jake," I said, holding it up.
He walked over, jaw tight. "So… your guess was right."
I nodded once, slowly. My eyes darkened as I stared at the device. "Do you know who placed it?" Jake asked, arms crossed.
I didn't even hesitate.
"Alessia Gambino."
Jake exhaled sharply. "Damn..."
I looked down at the recorder for the last time, then dropped it on the floor and smashed it under my boot. The crunch of plastic and metal breaking beneath me was strangely satisfying.
Jake didn't even flinch. "How do you know it was her?"
I looked him in the eye, a storm behind my gaze. "I just do."
Jake nodded, his expression sharpening, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "So what do you want to do with her?"
I leaned back on the leather armrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling with a dry chuckle. "Let her keep playing this little game," I said, my voice low. Calculated. Dangerous. "Let her think I don't know. Let her think she's winning."
Jake tilted his head slightly, watching me like he always does when I'm two steps ahead. "So… she's after Danna now," he said—not even as a question. Just the truth laid bare between us.
My jaw clenched. "I'll fly to China before she does," I muttered. "I won't let Alessia find out who Danna is… not before me. Not ever."
Jake nodded, his fingers tapping once against the back of the couch. Then, like always, he leaned forward and gave my shoulder a firm pat, grounding me. "When are you planning to go?"
I exhaled slowly, my eyes trailing to the window where the night stretched over Rome like a silent warning. "Not yet. We've got one more mission," I said. "After that, we go."
"Marked," Jake echoed, like sealing a promise.
I nodded once, satisfied. "Tomorrow, we take Vito's villa."
Jake's eyes lit up. "Old enemies of the Moretti family."
"Exactly. And the most senseless, f***ed-up scum I've ever known," I said with disgust. "To them, power is all about heirs. More sons, more bloodline, more legacy. That's their twisted version of an empire."
Jake let out a breath of disbelief before letting a dark chuckle escape. "That's gonna be fun," he said. "But what about your abdomen? Doesn't it still hurt?"
I glanced at him, raising a brow. "Shouldn't I be the one asking that?"
Jake grinned. "You're forgetting Milan? The day I got jumped by, like, six men alone in the alley?"
I barked out a laugh. "Yeah, and then you couldn't get out of bed for two days straight."
He laughed too, the sound finally cracking through the tension in the room. That moment—just us and the madness we've survived—felt like a rare breath of peace.
"Still," I said, voice softer, "I need you to survive. You're my strength, Jake."
Jake blinked at me before scoffing. "What am I supposed to do—blush?" he said, pretending to fan himself dramatically.
I rolled my eyes, half-smiling. "No, I mean it, man. No you, no me. We've seen too much."
Jake leaned back and nodded, the teasing fading just a little. "Same here. You're my strength too. Without you, I'd have ended up in some trash bin or worse…" Then he paused, throwing a mock-serious look my way. "But real talk? You're bossy as hell."
I shot him a glare. "And you? You're like a damn mafia wife."
He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
I smirked, mimicking in a high-pitched tone, "'Dante honey, did you drink the last beer? Dante honey, are we going out tonight?'"
Jake threw a pillow at me. "I don't use 'honey,' you dumbass."
We both laughed, the kind that ached in the ribs and eased the weight in the chest. Moments like these? They were rare. And maybe that's why they meant something. Even in this world of blood, betrayal, and war… we still had each other.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow we'd tear Vito's world apart.