Chapter 5 - The Old Man’s Gambit
The rain began to drum against the skylight of the workshop as Alessandro stood beside my bench, the silence between us stretching like a tightened bowstring. Before I could process the weight of his confession, my phone—lying face-up next to the torch—lit up with an incoming call from an unknown, encrypted satellite number.
I picked it up.
"Put it on speaker," Alessandro murmured, his eyes narrowing into cold slits.
I swiped the screen and tapped the icon.
"Adriana," an elderly, patrician voice echoed through the small apartment. It sounded smooth, cultured, and utterly devoid of human warmth. Ruggero Romano. "I trust you’re enjoying your little art project above the jewelry store."
I kept my voice ice-cold. "How did you get this number, Ruggero?"
"In my line of work, finding people is merely a matter of knowing who to pay off," the old strategist chuckled softly. "More importantly, my dear, you are sitting in a very exposed glass box. Paolo Rossi was a fool who rushed his work with that girl in the alley. But I am not Paolo."
Alessandro stepped closer to the phone, his voice dropping into a lethal growl. "If you touch her, Ruggero, I will burn your entire estate to ash while you're still sitting in your armchair."
"Ah, Alessandro," Ruggero sighed, sounding almost disappointed. "Always so theatrical. You think this is about threats? Look out your window."
I instinctively stood up, walking across the creaking floorboards to the front window. I pulled back the dusty lace curtain.
Down on the rain-slicked street, two black unmarked sedans were parked illegally across from the shop. Four men in dark coats stood near the curbside, their hands resting inside their jackets, watching the front entrance with cold, predatory patience.
"They aren't here to kill you, children," Ruggero’s voice purred through the speaker. "Not yet, at least. They are simply ensuring that you don't interfere with tonight's board meeting at the downtown syndicate headquarters. The capos are gathering right now to vote on a motion of no confidence against our erratic, love-struck Don. And by midnight, Alessandro, your title, your assets, and your throne will belong to the council."
The line went dead with a sharp click.
I turned around to face Alessandro. The realization hit me with terrifying clarity: Ruggero hadn't just sent Paolo to attack Camila as a random warning—it was all an elaborate distraction. While Alessandro was hunting down street-level enforcers, the old guard was executing a bloodless coup from the top down.
"He's calling an emergency vote," Alessandro said, his face hardening into the mask of a general preparing for his final, desperate stand. "If the capos vote to strip my authority, every asset, every route, and every safehouse we own will be legally transferred to Ruggero's coalition. We’ll be hunted fugitives by sunrise."
"Then we don't let them vote," I said.
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Alessandro looked at me, a flicker of surprise crossing his dark eyes. "Ruggero has twenty-two capos locked inside the boardroom at the Cárdenas Tower downtown. Security is airtight. We can't just walk in there."
"We aren't going to walk in," I said, a dangerous, long-dormant spark igniting in my chest. I walked back to my workbench, picking up the restored wedding ring I had just polished with the torch. I slipped it back onto my left ring finger. It fit perfectly. "We are going to walk in as the people who hold the keys to their entire financial ledger."
