21: Alexa?

Luca's POV

I woke up, in the middle of the night. The room was dark except for the dim glow of the streetlight seeping through the curtains. 

Maria was asleep beside me, her breathing soft and steady. But I couldn’t sleep. My head was a mess.

What the hell was I going to do about Alejandro?

He had outplayed me. 

Badly. 

Alex had barely made it back alive. Half of my men were down. 

And yet, I wasn’t surprised.

I knew Alejandro wouldn’t be easy to break. I just didn’t expect the gap between us to feel this wide.

I sat up, running a hand through my hair. Different plans ran through my head. 

What if we attacked from the outside the country? Maybe set up a trap in one of his foreign safehouses? Or find one of his people and use him as bait? I don't even know Alejandro enough to execute any of this. None of them gave me the kind of assurance I wanted.

I needed something better. Something Alejandro wouldn't even expect from me.

I stood from the bed quietly and walked to the window. 

The night was silent, but my head was loud. Every plan I came up with ended the same — with more bodies, more blood, more loss. And Alejandro still standing.

My phone buzzed on the table.

I walked over and picked it up.

No caller ID. Just a single message.

I clicked it open.

It was a picture.

And it stopped my heart.

Alexa.

She was lying on the ground. Blood around her head. Eyes open, lifeless. Her body twisted in a way that told me it wasn’t natural.

No words. No caption.

Just a photo of Alexa. Dead.

I didn’t feel anything for a few seconds. Just silence inside me. Then rage poured in.

I let out a loud grunt and threw my phone at the mirror. Glass shattered, the sound sharp, slicing through the quiet night.

"Luca!" Maria’s voice rang out as she jumped out of bed, eyes wide. "What happened? Are we being attacked?"

I stood still, fists clenched, breathing hard.

She rushed to my side, scanning the room, her hand already reaching for the small gun on the nightstand.

"We’re fine," I said, trying to hide my voice. "I just… broke the mirror."

"Why?" she asked, confused and worried.

I turned my face away. "Sorry. Go back to sleep, Maria."

But she didn’t move. Instead, she walked across the room and picked up the broken phone from the floor. The screen was cracked, almost completely destroyed, but the picture was still there.

She looked at it, then at me. Her eyes softened. "Is this Alexa?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice low. "She’s dead now. But Alejandro thinks he can get me to act foolish with that."

Maria stared at the image for a while longer, then walked toward me.

"Then maybe you should," she said simply.

I blinked. "What?"

"Call him. Beg for her body. Act weak. Make him think he’s won. Alejandro won’t expect you to do that."

I frowned, but she wasn’t wrong. It was something Alejandro would never see coming. He knew me as the man who never begged, never lowered his head. If I suddenly did, it might catch him off guard.

"All you need," Maria continued, "is to get him alone. And finish it."

It made sense. Almost.

But I shook my head. "He’s smarter than that. He’ll see through my tears. He’ll know I’m planning something."

Maria sighed. "Then make it believable. Use your pain. Use the anger."

I dropped onto the couch, elbows on my knees. My heart was still racing, but my mind was starting to focus. 

She was right. But I still didn’t have a full plan. I couldn’t just call and hope things worked out. Alejandro wouldn’t make it that easy.

I thought harder. Pushed past the grief, the anger, the noise.

What if I really leaned into it?

What if I did something that even I would never normally do?

Suddenly, something clicked.

My eyes widened. My heart skipped.

That’s it.

That’s the move.

Alejandro won’t even see this coming.