HIS ENTERTAINER

Chapter 46

                GENEVIEVE POV.

The night wrapped around us like a velvet shroud, muffling the world beyond the narrow stretch of road where the car waited. The sky was dim, a gauzy curtain of clouds hiding the stars—just as the answers we sought seemed hidden in the shadows ahead.

I watched Hermann settle into the driver’s seat, his movements stiff but resolute. The weight of what lay ahead pressed heavy between us, unspoken yet omnipresent. He glanced back at me.
  “We move carefully from here,” he said softly, breaking the quiet. “Every step could be a trap.”

I nodded. “Then we’ll be shadows. Silent and unseen.”

The engine hummed to life, and the car slipped quietly into the darkened streets. The world outside blurred—a mosaic of dim streetlights, shuttered windows, and the distant pulse of a city that seemed oblivious to our turmoil.

Inside, the air was thick with a pregnant silence,
I reached out again, brushing my fingers against Hermann’s hand resting on the steering wheel—a small, grounding touch amid the storm.

“I'll look deeply for someone suitable for the job,” I reassured him,
voice low.

He swallowed hard, jaw tightening. “Yes. Someone who knows where to look... and what to watch for.”

My mind flickered to the faces we’d met, the alliances fragile as glass. Trust was a rarity, but one we couldn’t live without.

As we drove deeper into the night, the silence stretched.
I found my thoughts wandering to her—the one we fought for—and the fragile hope that still shimmered beneath the weight of despair.

“Brother,” I whispered, voice breaking the stillness. “Whatever happens, we do this together.”

A flicker of a grin brushed his lips. “Together,” he agreed.
_______________________________________
      HERMANN RODRIGUEZ POV.

The door closed behind me with a muted thud, the weight of the past weeks pressing heavily on my shoulders. The house was quiet—too quiet—like a paused breath, waiting to be shattered.

In the solitude of my room, I peeled off the remnants of pain: the bruises woven beneath my skin, the ache of restless nights, and the guilt gnawing at me for not escaping with Ivy. The thought loomed like a relentless shadow—her captive, my failure.
A knock on my door caught my attention, I slowly made few strides and flew it open. It was Richard, his face lightened up with the delightness of my presence.

I let him in, and he closed the door behind him.
Richard’s voice broke through the heavy silence, steady and unwavering. “We’ll get her back, Hermann. We’ll find a way. You’re not alone in this.”

I looked up to see him standing by the window, the city lights casting sharp angles across his face—determined, unyielding. His presence was a small anchor in the storm that threats to consume me.

“It’s not just about getting her back,” I said, voice low and rough. “I'm worried for her safety,"

Richard’s gaze softened, a quiet confidence in his eyes. "she's stronger than you think, to save her, you need to be focused.” he paused.
"Every minute we waste, the bigger danger she's in" he added bitterly.

And, i saw through him,"you know what happened to Maris wasn't your fault." I drew a breath, "don't burden yourself so much, she wouldn't like it"

Before he could respond,
the door creaked open, and Norman stepped in—his expression grim, carrying news that cut through the tentative calm like a blade.

“Godfather— demands for your audience at once.” he swallowed nervously.

The words hung heavy in the air. Grandpa was a fortress of tradition and pride, and to him, I had crossed unforgivable lines. Not for business. Not for honor. But for Ivy—“just a stripper,” in his scornful view.

I clenched my fists, The battle was far from over—this time, it was within the walls I thought I never imagined.

"Where is he?" I asked my voice stoned.

Norman paused but answered sharply, "in your office"

As I rose,
the flicker of determination flared anew. If the war outside was fierce, the one inside would be no less brutal. But I had made my choice. Now, I had to face the consequences.

The halls felt colder as I made my way to the audience, each step echoing the war between duty and desire—a war I had no intention of losing.

   In my office the air felt colder than ever as I stood before my grandfather—a man whose presence was as formidable as the empire he ruled. His eyes, sharp and unforgiving, pierced through me with the weight of generations of authority.

“You’ve made your foolish choices clear, Hermann,” he began, voice like steel tempered in fire. “Forsaking our family's honor for a just a… stripper.” he scoffed, "a whore"

The words echoed in the chamber, dripping with scorn.
“Pick your words carefully old man” I said, steady despite the storm inside me, “I won’t abandon her. Not for Cora Tyson, not for any fucking alliance forged out of convenience and greed.”

His lips curled into a cold smile, one that held no warmth, only derision. “Cora Tyson will bring power to the Rodriguez family—a power you could never dream of wielding. You, like your father, are all weak, useless, and pathetic.”

The accusation hit like a blow, but I stood firm. “Power without loyalty is nothing. I will never betray what I believe in, no matter the cost.” I said approaching just a bit forward, "but, I don't expect you to know that"

The room thickened with tension. His gaze darkened, final and unforgiving. “Then you are stripped of your rights to the throne. You will no longer inherit, nor represent this family. And should you disgrace our name further, there will be consequences… severe ones.”

An icy silence settled before the final sentence, “I will have you eliminated for bringing shame to the Rodriguez legacy.”

The words settled like a shadow across my soul—the declaration of war not only internal but sprawling beyond the family’s walls, a rupture between his rule over the Italian mafia and my command of the Invisibles in New York.

As I met his gaze, I knew the path ahead was brimmed with blood and fire. Yet, in that moment, resolve burned brighter than fear.

“I am Hermann Rodriguez,” I said, steady and unshaken.
“Leader of the Invisibles in New York. The heavens may thunder, the earth may break — but nothing will command me.”

"i see– then, let the war begin"

"The war had already begun" I said coldly before waking out.

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