LUCIANO – POV

3:11 AM – HARLEM WAREHOUSE, AFTER THE ATTACK


I could smell the betrayal before I saw it.

Glass crunched under my boots as I stepped through the wreckage — shattered crates, half-burnt pallets, bullet-pocked steel. Smoke lingered like a taunt, curling up toward the rafters as if laughing at me.


One body was already covered. One of my men was bleeding out in the corner, groaning. Useless. Hardin hovered near him, barking orders into a radio.

I said nothing as I walked deeper into the warehouse. Nothing needed to be said. Because I already knew.

Only one man would hit me this clean, this smart. No stolen goods. No chaos. Just blood and a message.

Xavier.

He was back. And he wanted me to know it.

“Hardin,” I said.

He straightened like a soldier.

>“Yes, boss?”<

“Underground. Fifteen minutes. I want every man present. No excuses.” I ordered.

He nodded and rushed off. I stood alone for a moment, letting my fury settle into something colder. I looked up at the bullet holes in the roof, the burn scars on the concrete, and I smiled.

You’re going to regret that little knock, brother. I turned and left.

_____________________________

After fifteen minutes, The Underground meeting room Below the Warehouse was packed with my men.

The room stank of sweat and fear.

All forty-three of them stood in silence — some with guilt in their eyes, most with confusion. Hardin stood to my right, arms crossed, face unreadable. The low hum of the fluorescent lights above buzzed like tension cracking.

I walked slowly, deliberately, my gun loose in my hand.

“You think I don’t see everything?” I began, my voice calm, like a lullaby before the slaughter.

Eyes flicked between me and the gun.

“This warehouse was my best-kept secret. My bloodline operations. My private storm. Only a handful of you knew it existed. And now... it’s been pissed on like a public sidewalk.”

I stopped in the center of the room.

“I know who did it. “My charming brother has returned.” I smiled coldly

Murmurs spread like fleas.

“But he didn’t find this place by magic,” I continued. “He was told, wasn't he"?

I raised my pistol and fired into the concrete wall — loud, violent, final.

“Thirty minutes,” I said, lowering the weapon. “That’s how long I’d need to find the rat. But I’m feeling generous tonight.”

I stepped back and looked around..


“So here’s the gift. The one who betrayed me? You have the liberty to end your own life before I do it. Because if I find you first, I won’t just kill you. I’ll kill your mother, your sisters, your bastard brothers, your children, wife and any Living thing that is close to you."

My blood was boiling. My men have been slacking off these days because everything has been going smoothly. But it's becoming too much and I need to keep them on their toes.

Silence.

Then a cough. A sob.

And one man — Mateo — stepped forward, eyes wide with shame.

>“My daughter...”< he choked. >“They took her. I didn’t have a choice, I—”<

Bang.

I pulled the trigger without blinking. Blood sprayed across the floor as Mateo’s body dropped like a sack of meat.

“This is a gently reminder that I don’t forgive betrayal,” I said.

Wait! Did I just say "gently reminder"? What was so gentle about shooting a man to death? Well, that is my circle for you. I run the City of New York so whoever works for me should either be loyal or die trying.

No one dared move.

“Clean it up,” I said to Hardin.


And then I turned and walked out.

*********************

DAISY – POV

7:12 AM – EMPIRE EDGE HOTEL, XAVIER’S ROOM


I was gone before the sun came up.

He was still asleep, one arm tossed across the bed like a goddamn Greek statue. The sheets were tangled around his waist, his chest rising and falling like he didn’t just wreck my body six different ways last night.

I stared at him for too long.

I hated how good he looked. How natural it felt to wake up in a stranger’s bed, bruised from pleasure instead of pain.

I didn’t know his name. And that made it easier.

I slid out of bed quietly, picking up my clothes off the floor, slipping my jeans on without a sound. My legs ached. My throat was raw. And between my thighs? I could still feel him.

I didn’t leave a note.

Didn’t steal anything either — though I could’ve. I just pulled my jacket on, slipped out of the suite, and vanished like a ghost.

*******************

After Twenty minutes, I was back at my shit hole apartment again.

>“You’re back already?”<

my mom snapped the moment I walked in. She was leaning against the kitchen counter with her phone in one hand and a nail file in the other. Her blond wig was lopsided again.


“Morning, Mom,” I muttered, heading for my room.

She followed. Of course.

>“I thought you were out making money,” she said, arms crossed. “How am I supposed to plan my trip to the Bahamas if you keep showing up broke?”<


I turned, slow.

“You want me to fund your vacation now?”

I asked, anger already building up in me.

>“I deserve it,”<

she said, eyes sharp. >“I raised you. Fed you. Sacrificed everything.”<


I laughed bitterly. “You sold my school shoes for nail polish when I was twelve.”

>“Don’t start that again,”< she hissed.

>“Just get me the money, Daisy. Five hundred thousand dollars or more"<


“I’m not your damn bank!”


I stormed into my room and slammed the door. My heart was pounding — from rage, from guilt, from everything I couldn’t name. I sank onto the bed, still in last night’s clothes, and stared at the ceiling.

I rubbed my temples.

I was tired of being broke. Tired of living in this rat hole. Tired of pretending I wasn’t already drowning in blood and secrets. I stood, crossed to the Bathroom and turn on the shower, letting the water wash away the touches of the Greek god I rode last night.

After Fifteen minutes, I was done, I dried my body and wore my body lotion. I crossed over to the closet, and pulled out one of my favourite short red dress. Tight. Elegant. Dangerous.

I stared at it for a long moment. Then I pulled it on.

Guess where I am going?

********************

XAVIER – POV


She was gone.

At first, I thought she was in the bathroom. Then I checked the suite.

Empty.

My bed still smelled like her. My neck still had her teeth marks. My back was sore in the best way.

And still — she was gone.

I stared at the spot where she’d been lying, the dent in the mattress, the crease in the pillow. No note. No number. Not even a damn name.

And it pissed me off how much I cared.

I lit a cigarette and walked to the window, watching the city wake up below.

Last night was supposed to be nothing. Just a body. Just release.

But she’d felt like something else. Something familiar and feral.

I was supposed to be focused. Calculating. Strategic. But now I was standing in front of this million-dollar view, wondering who the hell she was and why the fuck I wanted to find her again.

Well, that aside, I have somewhere to go. I need to get ready..

I am sure Luciano would be happy to see me.


(TO BE CONTINUED....)