Chapter 3

Chapter 3

{ALESSANDRO}

The heavy bass of the music throbbed through the air, vibrating against my chest as I stepped into Midnight Echelon. The club was alive with the pulse of conversation, the clink of glasses, and the kind of energy only money and power could create. But I didn’t come here for the noise. I came for what happened beneath it all.

As I walked deeper into the club, the crowd parted, making way for me without a glance. They knew who I was. They didn’t need to see me; they felt me, like a storm coming on the horizon. I didn’t need to advertise my power. It spoke for itself.

The lounge was ahead, secluded, where the real business was done. My mind was already there—on the men I was meeting tonight, the deals that were waiting to be made, the weapons to be moved. The less people knew about it, the better. This wasn’t a place for questions. It was a place where deals were struck in whispers, where promises were sealed in silence.

I wasn’t here to enjoy the music or the lights. I was here to take what was mine.

I stepped into the private lounge, where my business partner, Orlando, and his men were already seated. He stood up when he saw me and my men walking towards him.

“Good evening, Mr. Rodriguez.” Orlando spoke as he extended his hand for a handshake, and I shook his hands.

“Good evening, Orlando. What do you have for me today?” I asked as I sat on a chair directly in front of him. Orlando was our weapons dealer, and we'd been working together for years now. He knew his stuff.

“I have new inventions that might interest you, Mr. Rodriguez. I brought two; one for you and one for the Capo.” Orlando uttered, and I hummed.

“Alright then. Let me see what you've got.” I responded, and he placed a black briefcase on the table. He opened it, revealing two guns in separate compartments.

Orlando took the first gun in his hands, lifting it toward the dim light overhead. The polished chrome gleamed under the club’s subtle lighting as he turned it in his grip, admiring the craftsmanship.

“This,” he began, his voice smooth and confident, “is the Viper-X9. It’s a perfect mix of power and discretion, built for professionals like you, Mr. Rodriguez.”

He traced his finger along the sleek, ergonomic barrel, his eyes glinting with pride.

“The Viper-X9 has a smart trigger system, you see? It adapts to your hand strength and experience, ensuring a smooth, rapid pull every time. No more wasted effort, no matter how much pressure’s on you. And for stealth...”

Orlando ran his thumb over a small section of the barrel, and the weapon seemed to shimmer faintly, almost blending with the shadows.

“It’s coated with an invisibility layer, perfect for low light or night operations. Anyone trying to spot it would be wasting their time. It also comes with a modular silencer—swappable, as you know, for different kinds of missions.”

He paused, letting me soak in the details, then offered a sly smile.

“Of course, this gun isn't just about being quiet. When it’s time to move fast, it’ll give you an edge with minimal recoil. You’ll hit your mark every time.”

He set the Viper-X9 down and reached for the second gun, a more complex and refined weapon. He held it up with care, as if presenting a rare piece of art.

“And this,” Orlando continued, his tone shifting, “is the Griffin-88. A beast, in every sense.”

The gun was a striking contrast to the Viper—more polished, more imposing. The chrome finish seemed almost too perfect, reflecting the surroundings like a mirror. Orlando’s fingers danced along the grip as he described the features.

“This one’s more... advanced. It’s got a holographic targeting system built into the frame. You don’t need a separate sight—just look down the barrel, and the reticle appears right in your field of vision, guiding you to your target. Never miss a shot, even under pressure.”

His fingers hovered over the trigger as he explained further.

“And for those delicate moments—when you need to incapacitate rather than kill—it’s got a pulse-shot mode. Sends a shock through the target, temporary paralysis, no blood, no mess. Perfect for those times when you need answers... but not bodies.”

He placed the Griffin-88 back in its compartment, his eyes glimmering with excitement.

“Also,” Orlando added with a knowing look, “the ceramic core ammunition will go through any armor like it’s butter. This is a weapon built for those who want to make an impression—and leave nothing behind but fear.”

I leaned back in my chair, eyeing both weapons with a new level of appreciation. Orlando was right—these were more than just guns. They were tools, crafted for precision, designed for control.

“Impressive,” I said, the corner of my mouth lifting. “You’ve outdone yourself again, Orlando. I’ll take both.”

Orlando’s smile was thin, but it carried the weight of approval.

“I knew you’d appreciate them, Mr. Rodriguez. These aren’t just guns—they’re statements.”

The deal was set.

Orlando handed the briefcase to one of my men, and he collected another briefcase filled with money in exchange. A smile appeared on his face as he opened it to see the dollar notes inside.

“It's always nice doing business with you, Mr. Rodriguez.” Orlando said as he stood up.

“Same with you, Orlando. I'll see you next time.” I replied, and we shook hands once again before he walked out of the lounge with his men.

“That went smoothly.” My right-hand man, Luca, uttered as he sat in the seat Orlando had previously occupied.

“Yeah, it did. The guns are cool. Which one do you think I should choose?” I asked as I leaned back in the chair.

Luca was deep in thought for a few seconds before saying, “I think the Viper-X9 suits you perfectly. The Griffin-88 has too many features, and I know you won't like that.”

“You're right. The Viper-X9 is perfect for me.” I said and he nodded.

“I feel like drinking and having fun tonight. It's been a while. What do you think?” I asked Luca, and he smirked.

“Sounds like a great idea. If you're talking about the fun I'm thinking of, I think you have someone already.” Luca said with a knowing look as he pointed behind him.

I looked towards where he was pointing at to see a lady with platinum silver hair and brown eyes sitting alone at a table. She was dressed in a gold dress that glimmered under the club's lighting, a perfect contrast against the darkness of the lounge. The fabric hugged her figure, flowing down to her knees, while the low-cut neckline drew attention to the curve of her shoulders. Her eyes seemed to pierce the dimness around her, every movement she made as graceful as it was deliberate. There was something magnetic about her—an air of both mystery and command.

I couldn't help but feel that sense of attraction—dangerous, powerful. Her presence was almost impossible to ignore, as if she were the eye of a storm, and everything around her was caught in the pull of her gravity.

“She’s got your attention, huh?” Luca asked with a slight grin on his face. “She has been looking at you since we stepped into the lounge. I think you've got her attention, too.”

I didn't give Luca a response. I was still mesmerized by the lady's beauty. It felt like she was calling to me.

Right at that moment, our eyes met, and I watched as she took a sip of her drink, her eyes locked onto mine.

I was going to talk to her.