The man begged.
They always did in the end.
Zayne Vitale stood in the center of the warehouse, unbothered by the blood pooling around his Italian shoes. His gloved hands were clean. They always were.
"I—I didn't mean to cross you," the man choked out, tears mixing with sweat. "I swear—"
Zayne raised a hand.
Silence.
Behind him, Luca cocked the gun. One click and it would all be over.
But Zayne wasn't in a hurry. Not tonight.
He stepped closer, crouching slightly. "You stole from me. Lied to my face. And tried to run."
The man shook his head, sobbing now.
Zayne's voice stayed calm. Almost quiet. "The thing is, I don't give second chances."
Bang.
The gunshot echoed through the steel walls like thunder.
Zayne stood, straightened his coat, and walked out without another word.
Penthouse – 3:17 AM
Rome glittered beneath him, but Zayne didn't see the beauty. Only shadows. Only ghosts.
He stood at the window, shirtless, a glass of scotch in his hand.
Seventeen years.
Seventeen years since blood stained his childhood and carved revenge into his soul.
He'd never forgotten that face.
The scar on the jaw.
The lion crest ring.
The cold, heartless stare.
He never knew the name. Just the look. Just the way the man turned his back and walked away like killing his father meant nothing.
"Every. Single. Thing," Zayne whispered, jaw tightening.
The door opened behind him.
Luca stepped inside, dark-haired and sharp-eyed. His right-hand man. The only person Zayne didn't completely hate. Which, in his world, meant they were practically brothers.
"You called?" Luca asked quietly.
"Any progress?" Zayne asked without turning.
Luca hesitated. "No solid leads. Nothing new on the ring. We're still chasing shadows."
Zayne's jaw clenched.
"We'll find him," Luca added. "But… maybe you need to take a break from this. Just for a while."
That made Zayne turn.
"A break?" His voice was sharp.
Luca held his ground. "You haven't slept properly in days. This thing — it's eating you alive."
Zayne stepped forward, his eyes ice-cold. "He murdered my father in front of me."
"I know—"
"No, you don't," Zayne snapped. "You can't know. And if you did, you wouldn't be standing here telling me to drop it."
Luca sighed, clearly torn. "I didn't say drop it. Just… breathe. Rest. You're no good to anyone if you burn out."
Zayne turned his back to him again, facing the city.
There was a long silence.
"Go back to work," he said, low and final.
Luca paused, then nodded once and left without another word.
Zayne didn't move. Didn't blink.
He wouldn't stop.
Not until the man with the lion ring paid in blood