Souls Through Time (EzioxOC/DesmondxOC)

Chapter 31 - Amelia

A pair of men—one of them notably rotund and draped in a cape—stood at the edge of a square, speaking in hushed, urgent tones. Ezio caught Amelia's eye, a signal that it was time to follow. She nodded in return, her gaze steely. As they crept closer, their target's voices drifted over to them.

"Where's Emilio?" the larger man asked, irritation in his tone.

"I told him to be here," Carlo Grimaldi replied, his words clipped and defensive.

"You told him yourself? In person?" the other man pressed.

"Yes, myself, in person... I'm concerned that you don't trust me," Carlo retorted, sounding more than a little agitated.

Amelia pressed her back against the wall, her movements careful as she kept her weight off her weaker side. She caught Ezio's gaze and offered a faint smirk, as if to say, Men like them always unravel under pressure. He returned the look, the corners of his mouth lifting in subtle amusement, and then they both refocused on the conversation ahead.

As Carlo and his companion began to walk again, Amelia and Ezio slipped behind them, keeping to the shadows. They stayed close, but not so close as to draw attention, blending with the darkness and the small groups of courtesans milling about the streets. Every few steps, Carlo would throw a glance over his shoulder, but Amelia was already ducking behind a pillar or sidestepping into an alley by then, her movements synchronized with Ezio's. Occasionally, she winced, the pull of her muscles reminding her of her still-healing wound.

Their targets stopped again, this time in a small square where they met with two more figures—an old man dressed in rich clothes and another who seemed to hover protectively at his side. Amelia and Ezio settled into the shadow of a nearby arch, listening intently.

"Buon giorno, cousin. Signor Carlo," the old man greeted.

The rotund man frowned, glancing around with impatience. "We thought Emilio would be with you—"

"Emilio is dead," the old man interrupted flatly.

The reaction was immediate, the surprise and fear clear on the men's faces.

"What? How—?" the larger man stammered, his bravado slipping.

Carlo's expression twisted into one of panic. "The Assassin... The same one who hunted down the Pazzi! He's here, in Venezia with his whore Amelia Tessaro."

Amelia felt a slight thrill at his words, the confirmation that their presence had rattled the Templars. She glanced sideways at Ezio, who remained focused, his jaw set. He caught her look and gave her a subtle nod, acknowledging the shared victory.

The old man, Marco, continued in a cold, measured tone, "È così. Silvio—did you not know? He could be anywhere. He could be here right now, and we might not even know. He struck Emilio inside his own palazzo."

Silvio, the rotund man, muttered angrily, "And so, what of our plans!?"

"There is no longer time for subtlety, my brothers," Marco said. "We must act now."

Carlo tried to protest, his voice trembling with desperation. "But, Marco. I'm so close. A few more days. If I can just—"

"No. It happens this week," Marco declared, his tone brooking no argument.

Amelia exchanged a quick, meaningful look with Ezio. This was the information they needed—plans in motion, an urgent timeline. They couldn't afford to waste any time in countering it.

As the group moved again, now joined by a middle-aged man called Dante, Amelia and Ezio followed, staying close. She was aware of the soft brush of Ezio's shoulder against hers, a subtle reassurance that he was right there with her, matching her pace and focus They tailed the conspirators down winding alleyways and through quiet squares until they reached a dockside area. The night air grew cooler, carrying the salt of the sea. Amelia suppressed a shiver, the ache in her side flaring slightly with the chill. But she kept her breathing even, pushing through the discomfort.