Mixed blood

Chapter 34: Only the idea of losing her.

Inside the Romero warehouse, Giovanni was crouched beside a crate, clipboard in hand, barking orders at a shipment crew. Silas leaned against a stack of wooden pallets, flipping a butterfly knife in one hand like it was second nature.

Luana didn't announce herself.

"Still using the same damn clipboard from high school, Gio?"

Giovanni didn't look up. "Prima! Come to grace us with your terrifying presence?"

Silas smirked. "She finally remembered where the warehouse is. Thought you'd gone full Russo on us."

"Bite me," Luana said, "I need your help."

It always hit her in the chest, the way being around them felt like slipping back into worn-in shoes—comfortable, steady, hers.

Giovanni walked over, brushing dust from his sleeves. "Need someone threatened, killed, or mildly inconvenienced?"

"I'm going for the Yakuza vault."

Silas blinked. "The vault? As in the vault?"

"The one with every file, trade secret, dirt and alliance the Yakuza has guarded for three generations," Luana confirmed. "I'm not just rattling cages this time. I'm gutting their leverage."

Both men straightened. That tone—it wasn't playful. It was the one Luana used when something big was about to go down.

She walked to the center table and spread out a folded set of blueprints and intel.

Giovanni let out a low whistle. "That's not just dangerous. That's lunacy."

Luana smirked. "Then it's a good thing we were raised on chaos."

"Let's get to work." Silas grabbed a chair and sat down, checking the folder.

They spent the next two hours poring over plans, security patterns, personnel movements. Luana brought everything she had—photos, intercepted communications, bribes already made.

Giovanni tapped through his laptop, showing thermal scans of the building, while Silas laid out their timeline with deadly precision.

Silas stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket.

Luana blinked. "What are you doing?"

He gave her a serious look and said, "You think I'm letting you go into that snake pit alone? You're a fool."

Giovanni looked between them and nodded slowly. "Then I'll start prepping—"

But Luana and Silas stepped forward in unison.

Each placed a hand on Giovanni's shoulders.

Gio froze. "No."

They said together, "One heir should stay standing."

Giovanni's eyes closed. He exhaled sharply. "You guys are playing that card?"

It was a ritual from when they were kids—one they'd invented in their grandfather's cellar, whispering over bruised knuckles and scraped knees. They'd sworn it as children, repeated it as teens, and now invoked it as leaders of a family built on fire.

"I hate this," he muttered. "I hate it with every fiber of my spanish being."

Luana's thumb brushed his shoulder. "Gio. We need someone we trust to keep things moving while we're gone. You know what's coming. If this vault gives us what I think it does, we'll shake half the continent. Someone has to be here to hold the line."

Giovanni sighed, nodding. "Fine. But if either of you dies, I swear I'll revive you just to kill you again."

Silas grinned. "Noted."