i-Spy | A Stalker Romance

Chapter 41: Arson

Kairo's P.O.V.

The dockyard loomed ahead, its crumbling structures silhouetted against the dull, gray sky. The air was thick with the stench of rust and decay, the distant roar of the sea barely masking the sound of creaking metal and the occasional gull's cry. It was a place forgotten by the world, where people like Rafa hid in the shadows, thinking they were unreachable.

But they were wrong.

The stench of the sea mixed with the metallic tang of old, corroded metal made my stomach churn, but it's the fire in my chest that kept me steady. 

Rafa. He's close. I can feel it, the weight of his presence pressing against the edges of my awareness. The bastard was working with Marco, one of his muscle men with favors from the Order who had framed Stella, turned her into a scapegoat for something she never did. And now, I was going to paint this whole goddamn city red until I find her.

Rafa's men had surrounded me, a motley crew of muscle and misplaced confidence. They shifted nervously, eyes darting to one another as they waited for someone else to make the first move. 

They know who I am. They know what I am capable of. And they know I'm not leaving here without answers.

A figure steps out from the shadows, and I spot him. Rafa. The bastard's trying to hide behind his goons, but it's clear he's just as nervous as they are. He's a big guy, built like a tank, with a bald head covered in faded tattoos that snake across his skull. Dark kohl rings his eyes, giving him a hollow, almost soulless look, but I see the fear underneath it all. Coward.

He sneers at me, trying to mask his fear with bravado. "You made a big mistake coming here, Vendetta."

I keep my expression neutral, my gaze flicking over him with disinterest. "You sure about that?" My voice is low, almost conversational. I want him to understand just how little this situation matters to me. "Because from where I'm standing, this place looks like it was made for brawls."

Rafa's sneer falters just a bit, but he recovers quickly, snapping his fingers. His men close in, weapons drawn. The odds are in his favor—numbers-wise, at least. But we both know that won't matter for long.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Luca, hidden near the ships, waiting for the signal. He's always been the impatient one, but he knows better than to jump the gun. The plan was simple—wait for the right moment, then strike. But I've got a different idea. Just to let off some steam. 

"Hey, Rafa," I say, my tone almost casual as I jerk my head toward the ships. "Why don't you bring my brother out from over there? I'm sure he's getting tired of waiting."

Rafa's men exchange confused glances before they spot Luca. Two of them head over, yanking him out from his hiding spot and dragging him toward me.

"What the fuck?" Luca glares at me with a confused look, shaking off the thugs' hands with a scowl. "You son of a bitch, you snitched on me!"

I shrug, unfazed by his outburst. "Language, little bro. We share the same mother. Also, change in plans."

"They know who you are now, you know what that means?" I smirked at Luca.

Rafa and his men look even more confused now, like they've walked into a scene from a movie they didn't get the script for. I glance at Luca, meeting his eyes, and give a barely perceptible nod.

Luca rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath. "You've got to be kidding me." But he knows better than to argue when I've made up my mind.

With a swift, practiced motion, Luca jerks free from the men holding him, moving like a coiled spring. He grabs the knife from one of the thug's belts, spinning it in his hand with ease before driving it into the man's neck. The thug gurgles, blood spurting from the wound as he collapses to the ground.