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The Warning
Fecha de publicación:
2026-04-07 16:54:08
Último capítulo
Hunted Heart:The Mafia's Plaything. Enemy.
The bullet came through the window.Alex was already awake. He'd been lying in the dark for an hour, watching the city lighten through the glass, feeling Vincenzo's warmth beside him, his mind turning over everything that had happened and everything that was still waiting. The phone calls from Cole. The folder on his kitchen table. The captain's face when he'd handed over his badge.The window shattered.The sound was deafening in the quiet of the penthouse. Glass sprayed across the bedroom floor, catching the morning light like scattered diamonds. Alex's body moved before his mind caught up—years of training, years of instinct, years of knowing what that sound meant. He rolled off the bed, hit the floor hard, and pulled Vincenzo down with him."Down. Stay down."Vincenzo was already moving, his face sharp, awake, the softness of sleep stripped away. His hand found Alex's arm, a silent acknowledgment.Another shot. This one buried itself in the wall above the bed, plaster cracking, du
Hunted Heart:The Mafia's Plaything. First Night
The place Vincenzo wanted to show him was a penthouse.Not the estate. Not any property Alex had flagged during the investigation. A building in the heart of the city, anonymous from the outside, its lobby empty of doormen and cameras. The elevator required a key that Vincenzo pulled from his pocket, old brass, worn smooth by use.They rode in silence. The elevator rose slowly, floor by floor, the numbers above the door ticking upward. Alex watched Vincenzo's reflection in the brass panels—the line of his jaw, the way his hands were steady at his sides, the pulse that beat at his throat.The doors opened onto a space that was nothing like the estate.The penthouse was open, airy, walls of glass that looked out over the city. The furniture was modern, sparse, chosen with care. A kitchen with marble counters. A living area with a couch that faced the windows. A hallway that led to rooms Alex couldn't see.But what caught his attention was the wall.It was covered in photographs. Dozens
Hunted Heart:The Mafia's Plaything. Cage
The garden was a study in controlled wildness.Bare branches twisted toward gray sky. Hedges trimmed into sharp geometries bordered paths of crushed stone. A fountain at the center had been drained for winter, its marble basin collecting dead leaves and the memory of water. The old man sat before it, wrapped in a wool blanket, his wheelchair positioned to face the house as if he'd been waiting for Alex to appear.WAlex stopped at the edge of the path. The chess piece was heavy in his pocket. His father's face—what he could remember of it—floated at the edges of his mind. A laugh. A hand on his shoulder. A voice that said, Be good, Alessandro. And then nothing. Just a phone call. Just a funeral. Just a life built on the ashes of a man he'd never really known.The Don turned.He was smaller than Alex had expected. Age had folded him in on himself, collapsing the frame that must once have been imposing. His hair was white, thin, combed back from a face mapped with veins and age spots. Hi
Hunted Heart:The Mafia's Plaything. The Rules.
The bedroom was larger than Alex's entire apartment.He stood in the doorway, his shoes still on, his hands at his sides, and tried to reconcile the space with anything he'd known before. A bed that could fit four people, draped in dark linens. A fireplace that crackled with real flame, not gas. Windows that faced the gardens, the moonlight filtering through bare trees, casting long shadows across the floor.Vincenzo was behind him. Alex could feel him there—the heat of his body, the weight of his presence, the careful distance he was keeping. Like he was waiting. Like he knew Alex needed a moment to breathe."I should have asked," Vincenzo said quietly. "If you wanted to come inside. If you wanted—""I'm here."Alex turned. Vincenzo was standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his posture almost uncertain. This was a man who had walked into an interrogation room and dismantled Alex's entire world with a smile. Who had sent a suit tailored to his body and called him by his
Hunted Heart:The Mafia's Plaything. Surrender.
The folder sat on Alex's kitchen table for three hours.He'd come home from the gala, locked the door behind him, and set it down. Then he'd walked to the window, stood there with his back to the room, and watched the city lights flicker in the dark. The suit was still on his body. He hadn't been able to take it off.The truth was on his table. Everything Vincenzo had given him—names, dates, transactions, the evidence that would bring down his captain, his colleagues, the people who had killed Marco. It was all there, waiting for him to open it, to read it, to decide what to do with it.And he couldn't move.His phone buzzed. Then again. Cole, probably. Or dispatch. Or the captain, checking in, making sure his pawn was still on the board.He ignored it.His mind was still in that room, in that hotel, with Vincenzo's fingers wrapped around his wrist and his voice in Alex's ear. I want an equal. Someone who can stand beside me and not fall.Alex pressed his forehead against the cold gla
Hunted Heart:The Mafia's Plaything. I'm not going to be your pawn!
The Grand Hotel rose up from the middle of the city like some kind of monument to a different time.Marble columns everywhere. Crystal chandeliers sparkling overhead. That big curved staircase leading up into shadows, taking people to ballrooms where the rich and powerful gathered to sip champagne and act like the real world outside didn’t exist. Alex had been here once before, years ago, on some case that went nowhere. He remembered feeling out of place even back then.Tonight felt worse.The suit Vincenzo sent him fit like it was made for his body. Cole had driven him to that tailor shop on 8th Avenue—the same one Alex had walked past two weeks ago without thinking much about it—and the guy behind the counter took one look at him and pulled the suit right off a back rack. Already pressed. Already waiting. Like Vincenzo had known all along that Alex would show up.Now Alex stood at the edge of the ballroom, holding a glass of champagne he hadn’t taken a single sip from, watching the
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