LOGINCHAPTER FOUR
LEANDRO.
The bodies were discarded by Nicole and Devon, while I left Elis and Carl in case of the stolen crates.
I left the club feeling exhausted.
The Callistas would have to kill me first before thinking they would dominate my city. I will kill every single one of them until there is no one left to take over the clan.
They've sent out word that I killed Charles before withdrawing to their hole, if they refuse to stay there then I won't be as kind as I was only killing two of their sons.
My thoughts drifted to the red-haired vixen from the club. The way her pretty eyes widened when she saw me was priceless, unlike last night she was dressed up today.
Gorgeous and dangerously tempting, I have seen a lot of beautiful women but something about her stands out.
And that makes me want to erase her before she turns into a problem, who knows what the Callistas have up their sleeves, and seeing her everywhere is enough to confirm my suspicions.
The car halted in front of my penthouse and a black BMW was parked right outside, irritation flickered inside me but I wore an uninterested expression as I alighted from the car before heading inside.
Priyanka sat on my couch long legs crossed, her dress with a large slit exposing her thighs.
If she thinks that shit is seductive then perhaps she must be mentally ill.
"Just when I thought you were going to spend the night out" She smirked when I walked in, I ignored her walking straight to the bar.
"Who let you in?"
"Your guards had to persuade them that you called for me though, speaking of that we need to talk" She replied.
I noted that piece of information to take care of the idiots who let her in without my permission.
"Did Antonio send you?" I questioned pouring myself a full glass of whiskey, my brother and his little bitch can go to hell if they think I will help them with anything.
"He went to your house in L. A couldn't find you so he sent me here, I thought we'd concluded that you don't go rogue on anything, he says you broke the pact and went ahead with the war with the Callistas. He doesn't like it" She remarked, as if I give a fuck what that useless piece of shit I call a brother thinks.
I chugged down the contents in my glass and slammed it on the counter, she flinched at the noise and I held eye contact with her before replying.
"Tell him I don't give a damn if he isn't on this with me, I rule this city and I will do whatever I want, with or without his help. He's too much of a pussy to come tell me himself anyway sending his slut to pass a message is disgraceful to a mafia no less member of the Costa Nostra" I scoffed and she turned red glaring at me.
"Or did you come here on your own in hopes that I would fuck you again?" I raised an eyebrow and she shivered like the cheap slut that she is clenching her thighs.
"I didn't come here for you to insult me, Lean, you need to stop this blood bath you started. The Callistas have the Mexicans with them. The Irish are also making an alliance with them, they won't let this slide" She pointed.
"Is that supposed to make me change my mind? I could easily get rid of every single one of them if I wished to. You and Antonio know that, this conversation is over, and the next time you invade my personal space I will shoot your legs and make sure you won't be able to use them again" I warned even though I wanted to do that the moment I saw her on my couch.
"You can't-"
"Get out of my house now, before I change my mind and send you back to Antonio in a body bag" I threatened disrupting whatever nonsense she was going to spew.
She stood up huffing and walked out.
I called Elvis as soon as she left, there must be someone in my clan feeding them this information and if there is one thing I despise more than the people I call family, it's traitors.
"Yes, boss?" He picked up after the first ring.
"Get rid of the bastards in charge of my penthouse downtown, find the fucking bastard who's selling us out to Antonio" I ordered and hung up.
The whiskey was starting to taste bland and I threw the glass on the wall out of anger.
The glass hit the wall with a loud crash shattering and sending shards of glass on the ground, the maids appeared a minute later to clear the mess.
My phone vibrated on the counter and I picked it up to find Cade calling.
This better be for something good.
"I found what you were looking for, the shipment was hijacked by Antonio and he's working with the Callistas, probably assured them he would take over and allow them to have their own territories" Cade disclosed, his competence and understanding that I hate mincing words and wasting time makes him one of my favorites.
If that's what my elder brother plans then he would have to up his game.
"And the other one?" I requested.
"Ah, I haven't gotten far yet but I found something interesting. The company is holding a gala in two weeks. Maybe you should pay a visit, they were smart about covering up and paying off the cops" He replied.
Of course.
"If you find anything let me know," I remarked.
"Yes boss, is there anything else?" He asked.
I thought of the vixen, I don't know why I find myself replaying that night when she linked her arm with mine, the fact that she didn't even care to speak with me, and left the elevator as soon as she got what she wanted.
Maybe she was telling the truth, it might be a coincidence that she found her way to the basement of the club.
But I was never one to believe in coincidences. She showed up last night at the hotel then the club today, and somehow found her way to the basement no one except my men knows about.
"Find out everything you can on Delia Herrick" I replied and he hummed, the clicking of his keyboard in the background.
"Who is she?" He asked.
"A person of interest"
Or someone who was sent by my enemies, I need to find out more about her and if it turns out my suspicions are correct then I will eliminate her before she turns into a distraction.
LeandroThe dust from the SUV’s tires settled slowly, a gray haze hanging over the driveway of the villa. I stood on the balcony, my hands gripping the stone railing until the skin over my knuckles turned white. My side ached a sharp, throbbing reminder of the bullet I’d taken weeks ago but that pain was nothing compared to the hollow, cavernous weight in my chest.I watched the black speck of the car disappear behind the rows of cypress trees. She was gone.I should have killed her. By every law of the Omertà, by every tradition my father and his father before him had bled to protect, Delia should be lying in a shallow grave in the olive grove. A mole is a cancer. You don't negotiate with it; you cut it out. But when I looked at her on her knees, her eyes drowning in tears as she confessed, I didn't see a spy. I saw the woman who had held my hand while I drifted in and out of a fever.I walked back into the study, the air thick with the smell of old leather and tobacco. Marco was
DeliaThe next morning, the light spilling through the window was skeletal and cold, a harsh departure from the usual golden glow of the Tuscan sun.I sat on the edge of the bed, the heavy silk sheets tangled around my legs like a shroud. Leandro was gone. The space beside me was cold, the indentation on his pillow the only evidence he had been there at all.I felt sick. It wasn’t the physical ache of a common illness; it was the visceral, soul-rotting nausea that comes with a dying conscience.For months, I had been the perfect little mole. I had infiltrated Leandro’s life under Sebastian’s iron thumb, terrified that if I didn't feed him secrets, Shawn and Carrie would end up in a shallow ditch. But the landscape had shifted. Leandro hadn't just given me "pocket money"; he had showered me with life-changing sums for "accompanying him" and playing his "Queen."Under the covers, I checked my bank balance on my phone. I was rich—"never-work-again" rich. That was the problem. The money
DeliaThe dining room was too quiet. The only sound was the clink of silver against china and the soft, rhythmic crackle of the fireplace. The vastness of the villa, which had once seemed like a dream of Italian luxury, now felt like a gilded cage.I looked at the empty chairs where Shawn and Carrie should have been sitting. Usually, the room would be filled with Shawn’s loud laughter as he struggled with his Italian pronunciation, or Carrie’s sharp-witted commentary on the wine. Their absence was like a cold, biting draft in the room, making the hair on my arms stand up."Leandro?" I asked, my voice trembling just a little, barely a whisper in the cavernous space. "Where are my friends? I thought we were all having dinner together."Leandro didn't even look up from his wine at first. He swirled the dark red liquid, watching it coat the glass like thick velvet, the candlelight catching the deep ruby hue."I sent them to the village with some of my men, Cara Mia," he said finally,
DeliaI stood in the middle of my room, staring at the closed door until my vision blurred. The silence of the villa was loud, heavy with the weight of things unsaid. My heart was a trapped bird, battering itself against my ribs.He knows. He has to know.The way he said "loyalty" sounded like a curse word wrapped in silk. I paced the length of the Persian rug, my mind racing through exit strategies. Should I call in sick? Tell him the Italian sun gave me a migraine? No. Leandro isn't the type to let a headache get in the way of his plans. Should I try to escape? I looked at the balcony. The drop was steep, and the olive groves were crawling with his men.Even if I made it past the perimeter, I couldn't leave Shawn and Carrie. They were the only reason I was in this mess. If Sebastian Callista hadn't threatened to turn their lives into a bloody mess, I would never have touched a burner phone. I wouldn’t even be here with a mafia Lord. I was a mole because I loved them. And now, I
DeliaThe air in the Tuscan villa was sweet, heavy with the scent of ripening grapes and ancient stone, but to me, it felt like poison. Ever since Carrie whispered to me about that folder in the library the one with my name and my face on it every breath felt like I was swallowing glass.I knew. I knew they were onto me. In this world, you don't just find a folder with your passport photo on a high-ranking lieutenant's desk unless you're being measured for a coffin.But I couldn't scream. I couldn't run. If I showed even a flicker of fear, it would be a confession. So, I did the only thing a girl in my position could do: I put on the performance of a lifetime.I walked into the kitchen where Matteo was pouring himself a glass of water. He looked perfectly calm, his black suit jacket draped over the back of a chair, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the heavy silver watch Leandro had given him. He looked like a man on vacation, not a man who was probably planning where to dump my body
Leandro"Get me Pyrianka," I growled into the phone. "Now."I hung up before Matteo could say another word. The silence that followed was suffocating. I stood up, my side screaming in protest, the stitches feeling like they were being pulled by hot tweezers. I didn't care. I walked over to the mahogany sideboard and poured myself a glass of bourbon straight, no ice. I needed something to burn the taste of betrayal out of my mouth.As the liquid scorched my throat, a memory flashed in my mind like a lightning strike. A few months ago, Pyrianka had come to his house and stood where Marco was standing now and looked me dead in the eye."Don Leandro," she had said, her voice like sandpaper on silk, "you’re looking at the horizon for enemies, but you should be looking at your own feet. The mole is right under your nose."I remembered the way her eyes had darted toward where Delia was standing. I had brushed it off back then. I had thought she was just being her usual paranoid self, jealo







