Cutting Off Supply

Rome wasn’t unshakable. It was fractured.

And now, Leonardo and I were ready to break it.

The villa was dimly lit, the soft hum of distant traffic barely audible beyond the open windows. Maps, documents, and lists of names were spread across the desk, the foundation of Giancarlo’s empire laid bare before us.

Leonardo poured himself a drink, his movements slow, deliberate, as if savoring the weight of our impending victory.

I stood near the window, my fingers tracing the rim of my own glass. “Giancarlo thrives on perception. If he looks untouchable, he believes he is.”

Leonardo smirked, swirling his whiskey. “Then let’s make sure Rome sees him bleed.”

I turned to face him fully now, watching the way his gaze flickered with something else—anticipation, enjoyment, maybe even admiration.

“You like watching people fall, don’t you?” I mused.

His chuckle was low, indulgent. “I prefer watching them realize they never stood a chance.”

I exhaled, stepping closer, my heels pressing against the polished marble floors as I leaned against the edge of the desk beside him. “And what if one day, someone thinks they have a chance against us?”

Leonardo studied me now, the air between us charged in a way it hadn’t been before. “They’d be fools.”

My lips curved slightly. “You flatter me.”

His fingers tapped against the glass before he set it down, shifting his stance slightly. “I speak the truth.”

I reached for the stack of papers in front of me, scanning the details of Giancarlo’s operations. “His shipments run through the east docks. That’s where we start.”

Leonardo tilted his head, watching me. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

I met his gaze, smirking. “I enjoy winning.”

He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “Then let’s make sure this victory is satisfying.”

And just like that, the plan was set.

The docks were quiet, still in the early hours of the morning. Too quiet. A sign that Giancarlo believed his control was absolute.

We arrived swiftly—no announcement, no warning. Leonardo’s men moved with precision, cutting off exits, taking over the shipments that had been scheduled to leave under Giancarlo’s name.

I stood at the edge of the harbor, watching as the chaos unfolded.

Giancarlo’s lieutenant arrived moments later, his expression shifting the second he realized what was happening. “You’re making a mistake.”

Leonardo chuckled, crossing his arms. “No. We’re correcting one.”

I stepped forward, my heels clicking against the stone as I tilted my head. “You have a choice. Walk away quietly, or watch Giancarlo’s empire crumble.”

The man hesitated—an instant too long. That was all we needed.

Back at the villa, the victory lingered in the air like the scent of burning wood.

Leonardo sat near the fireplace, his shirt slightly undone, his posture relaxed in a way that only happened after a win.

I poured myself another drink, settling into the chair across from him. “Giancarlo’s foundation is cracked. Another push, and it’ll collapse.”

Leonardo watched me, his gaze slow, assessing. “You didn’t hesitate once today.”

I smirked. “Did you expect me to?”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “No. But I liked watching it.”

The words hung between us, heavier than before, charged with something undeniably real now.

I took a slow sip of my whiskey, tilting my head slightly. “And if I told you I liked watching you, Leonardo?”

His smirk deepened, but his gaze lingered. “Then I’d say you finally admitted it.”

The tension was thick, and neither of us moved to dissolve it.

Because now?

The game had shifted.

With the docks under our control, the final strike was inevitable.

Giancarlo wasn’t just losing power.

He was losing Rome.

And Leonardo and I were about to take it.