Life Threatening

The hum of the engine was steady as we glided down the dimly lit streets of Los Angeles.

The city looked deceptively peaceful, a thin layer of fog clinging to the edges of the road like a ghostly veil.

I sat in the backseat of my sleek black car, my gloved hands resting loosely on my knees.

My mask—a staple of my identity—covered the lower half of my face. It wasn’t for protection; it was a symbol. A warning. Brayden Giovanni wasn’t a man to be crossed.

“Luca,” I said, my voice low but commanding.

“Yes, boss?” Luca, my driver and personal assistant, kept his eyes on the road ahead. He was an older man, maybe in his late fifties, with graying hair and sharp instincts. He’d been with me for over a decade, loyal and efficient.

“How do you think the deal went?”

“The deal?” he echoed, glancing briefly at me in the rearview mirror. “Smoothly, as expected. Those Colombians didn’t dare argue once they saw we came prepared.”

I let out a small grunt of approval. “Good. They needed to understand who they’re dealing with. No games. No excuses.”

Luca nodded, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “They know better now, Mr. Giovanni.”

“Don,” I corrected him, my tone sharp.

“Of course,” he said quickly, swallowing hard.

“Apologies, Don Giovanni.”

I leaned back against the leather seat, staring out at the passing city lights. “What about the product?” I asked. “Did they deliver what was promised?”

“Yes, Don Giovanni. Pure, high quality. Exactly what we agreed upon. It’ll be ready for distribution as soon as we unload it at the docks tomorrow night.”

“And security?” I further asked, my gaze still looking out the window.

Since it was already evening, everywhere was busy with different cars and pedestrians. Probably some were headed home and others to evening shifts at their work places.

“We doubled the guards at the warehouse,” Luca replied confidently. “No one’s getting close without permission.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, my gaze shifting back to him. “And the payment?”

Luca hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. “It’s all accounted for. Clean. We transferred it through the offshore accounts you set up.”

I nodded, satisfied for now. Business was business, and everything had to run like clockwork. Mistakes weren’t tolerated in my world.

But as silence settled between us, something nagged at me. A detail I’d been meaning to address.

“Luca,” I said suddenly, my voice cutting through the quiet.

“Yes, Don Giovanni?”

“What about the file?”

The atmosphere in the car shifted instantly. I saw his hands tighten on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

“Th-the file?” he stammered, his voice noticeably unsteady.

“Yes. The file from the meeting this afternoon. Where is it?”

Luca’s breathing hitched, and I could feel the tension radiating off him. “I—I left it on your desk, Don Giovanni. I didn’t… I didn’t think you needed it tonight.”

“You didn’t think?” My tone was calm, almost too calm.

“Don Giovanni, I apologize,” Luca said quickly, his voice shaking. “It won’t happen again. I swear.”

“It better not,” I said coldly. “That file contained sensitive information. What if someone walked into my office and saw it? Carelessness is a weakness, Luca, and I don’t tolerate weaknesses.”

“I understand, Don Giovanni,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Do you?” I leaned forward slightly, my presence heavy in the confined space.

“Yes, Don Giovanni. I’ll fix it as soon as we return. I'll give you my word.”

“Good.” I leaned back, the tension still thick in the air. Luca knew me well enough to understand I wasn’t just his boss; I was his lifeline. One wrong move, and I wouldn’t hesitate to cut that line.

Luca cleared his throat nervously, sneaking a glance at me in the mirror again. “Thank you for your patience, Don Giovanni.”

“Focus on the road, Luca,” I said, dismissing him with a wave of my hand.

He nodded quickly and turned his attention back to driving. The streetlights cast long shadows across the road as we approached an intersection.

But just as we were about to turn the corner, something caught my eye.

A figure darted out into the road, running recklessly across the street.

“Watch out!” I shouted, my voice slicing through the air like a whip.

Luca jerked his head around to look at me, his expression panicked. “What—”

“LOOK OUT!” I roared, but it was too late.

The car slammed into her with a sickening crunch, the sound of metal meeting flesh echoing in my ears.

The woman’s body flew through the air, her arms flailing helplessly before she landed hard on the pavement with a thud.

For a moment, everything went still.

“Dio mio…” Luca whispered, his hands frozen on the steering wheel.

My eyes were locked on the crumpled figure lying motionless in front of the car. My chest tightened as I felt a strange pang of something I couldn’t name.

“Get out,” I ordered, my voice low and deadly.

“Don Giovanni, I—”

“GET OUT!” I roared, my patience snapping.

Luca scrambled to obey, fumbling with the door handle before stepping out of the car. I followed, the cold night air hitting me as I approached the body.

The woman lay sprawled on the ground, her hair matted with blood. Her face was pale, her eyes closed. She looked so fragile, so small.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring down at her. Something about her struck a chord deep within me, but I couldn’t explain why.

“Don Giovanni,” Luca’s voice trembled behind me. “What do we do?”

I didn’t answer. My mind was racing, my thoughts a tangled mess.

The woman’s chest rose and fell faintly, a sign of life. But for how long?

“Call someone,” I said finally, my voice cold and sharp. “Now.”

“Yes, Don Giovanni,” Luca stammered, pulling out his phone with shaky hands.

I stayed where I was, my gaze fixed on the woman.