Veil of Vengeance

Chapter 19: Shadows in the Night

Chapter 19: Shadows in the Night

Alessandro's POV

The warehouse loomed ahead, a hulking silhouette against the inky night sky. The place was a fortress, but that didn't matter. I wasn't planning to walk out of here empty-handed. Marco and the rest of my men were already in position, waiting for my signal. Tonight, we were taking down one of the most dangerous men in the city, and I wasn't in the mood for half-measures.

As I approached the entrance, I couldn't shake the image of Isabella from my mind—her anger, her defiance, and the way she'd looked at me when I told her to stay away. She was right; I wasn't invincible. But that didn't mean I was about to let her walk into the middle of a firefight.

Marco appeared at my side, his expression as hard as ever. "Everything's in place, boss. We're ready when you are."

I nodded, my focus sharpening. "We go in quiet. I want this bastard alive, but if things get messy, don't hesitate to do what needs to be done."

Marco grinned, the kind of smile that usually preceded a bloodbath. "Understood. What about the girl?"

I shot him a warning glance. "Isabella's not involved in this. Keep her out of it."

Marco raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "She's going to be pissed if she finds out we did this without her."

"She'll get over it," I said, more to convince myself than him. "Let's move."

We slipped into the warehouse like shadows, the silence only broken by the distant hum of the city outside. The inside was exactly what I expected—grimy, dimly lit, and crawling with guards. They were well-armed, but we had the element of surprise.

As we crept through the building, I caught sight of our target—Matteo Ricci, a ruthless enforcer who'd been running interference on our operations for months. He was seated at a table, surrounded by his men, oblivious to the death that was about to rain down on him.

I signaled to Marco, who relayed the command to the others. We struck with precision, taking out the guards before they even knew what hit them. Ricci barely had time to react before I had him pinned against the wall, a knife pressed to his throat.

"Moretti," he spat, his eyes wide with fear. "You're making a mistake."

"The only mistake here," I growled, pressing the blade harder against his skin, "is thinking you could cross me and get away with it."

Ricci struggled, but it was no use. My grip tightened, and he froze, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Wait! You don't have to do this."

"Tell me everything you know," I demanded, my voice cold and unforgiving. "Who are you working for? Who's behind this?"

He hesitated, and I pressed the knife deeper, drawing a thin line of blood. "Now, Ricci."

"It's not just me," he stammered, his eyes darting around the room. "There's a bigger game here—bigger than you, bigger than the Rossi family. You're just pawns."

"Names," I snapped. "Give me names, or I swear I'll gut you right here."

Ricci swallowed hard, the fear in his eyes growing. "I don't know all the players, but there's one name that keeps coming up. De Luca."

I froze, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. "What did you say?"

"De Luca," Ricci repeated, desperation creeping into his voice. "He's been pulling strings, working both sides. But I don't know why. I swear, that's all I know!"