MasukARMANDO
I paced back and forth in my office, my mind racing. The phone call I’d just finished still echoed in my head, and the more I thought about it, the more my blood boiled. My informant’s words had been clear—our shipment had been intercepted, and it was no ordinary operation. This was a hit from our number one rival. I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out a cigar. I needed to calm down, think things through. But even as I lit the cigar and took a few slow puffs, the anger simmered just beneath the surface. It didn’t take long before I slammed my fist down on the desk, the wood rattling under the force. How the hell did this happen? We had planned everything. The route, the timing, the security. It was all handled quietly, kept within the tightest circle. So how did they know? I grabbed my phone, my hand shaking with anger as I dialed Matteo. “Get to my office. Now.” It wasn’t long before Matteo stepped through the door. He was quick, I’ll give him that, but it didn’t do much to cool my temper. “What the hell happened?” I snapped the moment he was inside. “How did they know? How did you let this happen, Matteo?” Matteo shut the door behind him and stood with his hands clasped in front of him. “Boss, it was an unexpected attack. They caught us off guard.” “Off guard?” I repeated, my voice rising. “We’ve been doing this for years. Nothing is supposed to catch us off guard! The route was a secret, everything was a damn secret!” He nodded, but his face stayed calm. “It was a secret, boss. We kept everything the way we always do. The only people who knew were you, me, and a few of our most trusted guys.” I took another drag from the cigar, letting the smoke fill my lungs as I tried to make sense of it all. How could they have known if only my inner circle had the details? There was only one answer. “There’s a rat,” I said, my voice cold. “Someone’s feeding them information.” Matteo’s eyes flickered with surprise, but he didn’t argue. “You think one of our own is working for them?” “How else could they know about the shipment?” I asked, staring him down. “We were careful, Matteo. We didn’t let anyone outside the circle in on the plan. If they knew, it’s because someone told them.” He didn’t say anything for a moment, just nodded slowly as he processed the thought. “I’ll start looking into it,” he said. “Quietly. We’ll find the rat.” “We better,” I muttered, pacing again. “I don’t care who it is. I don’t care how long they’ve been with us. Once we find them, they’re dead.” Matteo didn’t flinch at my words. He knew I meant every word, and he knew what kind of person we were up against. The rival family had been gunning for us for years, and we’d always stayed one step ahead. But this time, they’d hit us where it hurt. “I’ll handle it, boss,” he assured me. “But maybe you should take a step back for the night. Clear your head.” I stopped pacing, turning to look at him. “You want me to take a step back? We just lost millions in that shipment.” “I know,” Matteo said carefully. “But you’re pissed right now, and that’s not gonna help us figure this out. We’ll find the rat. But for tonight, maybe we just need to take a breather. You don’t have to make any decisions while you’re this angry.” I scoffed, turning away from him again. “A breather?” “There’s a new club that opened up,” he suggested. “Why don’t we head out there for a bit? Blow off some steam. You’ll feel better after a drink or two. Maybe some company.” I narrowed my eyes, considering it. The idea of unwinding sounded ridiculous given the situation, but Matteo had a point. I was angry—too angry to think straight. My fists clenched at my sides, and I realized that if I stayed in this office any longer, I was going to destroy something. “I don’t know,” I muttered, still unsure. “It’s one night,” he urged. “And you know as well as I do that this isn’t the first time we’ve been hit. We’ll bounce back, like we always do. But if you keep going at it like this, you’ll burn yourself out before we get to the bottom of it.” I took another drag from the cigar, feeling the tension in my shoulders. He wasn’t wrong. I needed to think clearly, and I wasn’t going to do that while I was like this. “Fine,” I said after a moment. “We’ll go.” Matteo gave a small nod, and I could see the relief in his eyes. “I’ll call for the car.” I crushed the cigar in the ashtray and grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair. The tension was still there, still coiled tight in my chest, but maybe a night out would help ease it. If nothing else, a few drinks would dull the edge of my anger. As I shrugged into my jacket, I couldn’t stop thinking about the rat. Whoever it was, they had betrayed me, and that was something I didn’t forgive. The night out might help me cool off, but it wouldn’t change the fact that someone in my crew had turned on me. And when I found out who it was, there would be no mercy. Matteo held the door open as I stepped out of the office. “We’ll head out the back,” he said, “keep things low-key.” I nodded, already calculating in my head how I would handle this. The club could wait—just for a few hours. But after that, I was going to get to work. The rat wouldn’t hide forever. They never did. As we walked down the hallway, Matteo fell into step beside me. “We’ll get through this, boss,” he said, his voice calm. “We always do.” I didn’t answer.ELEANOR ~•~ They found Mr. Paulo three weeks later, in a port town two countries over, sitting on a pile of money he thought made him untouchable. I asked to be there when they took him. Armando didn’t want me to come, and we had our first real fight about it, the kind two people have when they’ve stopped being owner and property and started standing on level ground. I won it the same way I’d won every argument with him since the auction. I didn’t beg. I just didn’t back down. So I was standing in the room when they brought Mr. Paulo in. He looked smaller than I remembered. That was the first thing. In my memory he filled whole rooms, the fat greedy king of that auction floor, the man who decided whether my sister lived by how high the bidding climbed. Now he was just a sweating man in a chair with two of Armando’s people behind him, his eyes darting around the room for the most powerful person to bargain with, the way men like him always do. His gaze passed over me twice b
ARMANDO~•~Eleanor didn’t come back to me for four days.She stayed at the doctor’s place those first nights, sleeping in a chair by the kid’s bed, and when Matilda was stable enough that the staff finally sent her home to rest, she came back to the mansion, went straight up to her room, and shut the door. She wasn’t avoiding me, exactly. She’d nod at me in a hallway. She just had nothing she was ready to say, and I’d learned by now not to chase her for it.So I waited. Me. Waiting. Matteo would’ve found that funny.I spent those four days doing the things a man does after a war. Counting what was left. Burying what wasn’t. Sitting alone in the study with the chair I still hadn’t moved.On the fourth morning Dante came down with his bag packed.He set it by the door the same way he’d brought it in. One bag, no ceremony. He found me at the window, where I did most of my standing around these days.“Rafael wants me back,” he said. “And the job’s done. Salvatore’s in the ground, the kid
ELEANOR~•~The next few hours came to me in pieces.I remember Armando carrying Matilda out across the courtyard himself, not handing her to one of his men, carrying her against his chest with her head tucked under his chin and his coat wrapped around her, stepping over bodies like they were furniture. I remember the car. I remember Dante driving fast enough that the world smeared past the windows, and nobody telling him to slow down. I remember holding my sister’s hand in the back seat and counting her breaths out loud, because it felt like if I counted them they couldn’t stop.I don’t remember the drive ending. One second we were moving and the next there were doors and lights and people in scrubs, and a gray-haired man with tired eyes was already waiting on the steps like he’d been standing there an hour.“Don Armando,” he said, and then his eyes went to the bundle in Armando’s arms and everything else dropped off his face. “This is the child. The one from before.”“This is her.”
ARMANDO~•~“Choose,” Salvatore said.I’d walked into a lot of rooms in my life knowing the math was bad. This was the worst of them. Salvatore with a gun dead center on Eleanor’s chest. Two of his men against the far wall with theirs leveled on me. The sick kid slumped on the cot behind her sister. And me alone in the doorway with one weapon and a count that didn’t add up no matter how I ran it.So I didn’t run it. I’d learned that much from Dante in three days. You don’t win the room you’re standing in. You win the room the other man thinks he’s standing in.“You’re quiet, Armando.” Salvatore was enjoying himself. The gun didn’t drift off Eleanor an inch. “That’s not like you. The Armando I hear about would’ve done something loud and stupid by now. But look at you. Standing in a doorway doing arithmetic. You know why?” He smiled. “Because of her. One girl off an auction block and she’s turned you into a man who hesitates. You should thank me. A weakness you don’t know about is the o
ELEANOR~•~One second I had my hand on Armando’s sleeve and the next the whole world went white and loud and I lost him.I don’t know how. A man came at us from the side and Armando turned to put him down, and the crowd of it, the light and the noise and the bodies, just swallowed the space between us. I reached for where he’d been and my hand closed on nothing.I should’ve stayed put. I knew that even while I was moving. But the gate man had said east hall, and east hall meant Matilda, and three weeks of not knowing whether my sister was alive had stripped the careful part of me right out of my body. I ran low along the inside wall, away from the worst of the shooting, toward a doorway with a dim light burning over it.The speakers crackled above me.“Eleanor.” Salvatore’s voice, slow and warm, sliding over the whole compound. “There you are. Come in, bella. Come in out of the cold.”He could see me somehow, and he was letting me come, and that should’ve frozen me where I stood. It
ARMANDO~•~Eleanor walked up to the gate alone and I hated every step of it.That was the plan. She walks, they watch, the gate opens for the prize Salvatore had been waiting on, and I come through two steps behind her in the dark with Marco while Dante took the back with the others. Two ways in. One girl to grab. Everybody out before Salvatore worked out he’d been played.It looked good on Dante’s map. On that map everything looked good.But this wasn’t the map. This was Eleanor in a thin coat crossing forty feet of open gravel toward a man who’d already used her once, and me crouched in the tree line with my pulse going hard, telling myself she was bait and not letting myself finish the thought about what bait is actually for.A floodlight snapped on and caught her. She froze in it. I watched her shoulders climb up toward her ears and then come down again, slow, like she was forcing herself steady.“Eleanor.” A voice from the gatehouse. One of Salvatore’s men, not the man himself.
ELEANOR My phone buzzed on the nightstand, jolting me from my thoughts. The screen lit up, and my stomach dropped when I saw the private number. My fingers hesitated for a moment before I grabbed the phone. I already knew what to expect, and that only made my heart pound harder.It was a text. “It
ELEANORAfter Armando left the room, my legs felt weak—trembling from the overwhelming sensations still coursing through me, and my mind was a mess of scattered thoughts.I swallowed hard, taking slow breaths to calm myself, but my body refused to settle. I hated how much control he seemed to have
ELEANORI sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the drawer where the phone was hidden. The silence in the mansion pressed down on me like a heavy weight and I hated how quiet it was—how every shift of the wind outside seemed louder than my own heartbeat. I just had this lingering feeling that he wa
ELEANOR As I sat there—still uneasy, I finally gathered the nerve to speak. “What could you possibly want to know about me?” I asked, my voice flat with an edge of skepticism. “I’m not exactly the most interesting person.”Armando—who had just taken another bite from his meal—didn’t even look up a







