The Aftermath
814 Words
Nico Romano had spent his life in the shadows of violence, but even he had to admit, last night had been a mess.
The assassination attempt on his father had thrown the entire auction into chaos. His men had barely managed to extract Lorenzo Romano before the bullets started flying, and now, 12 hours later, the fallout was still unfolding.
Nico sat in his office, fingers drumming slightly on his desk as he listened to Marco DeLuca pace across the room.
"The shooters were pros," Marco said, voice gruff. "Not the usual street thugs. Coordinated, precise. They knew exactly where Lorenzo would be."
"An inside job, then?" Nico asked, though he already suspected the answer.
Marco grunted. "Has to be. Someone with intel on the auction, on our security, on your father’s movements."
Nico sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Which means we have a traitor."
Marco nodded. "Or multiple. We need to start questioning our own men."
Nico didn't like it, but he knew Marco was right. Trust was a luxury in their world, and last night had proved that even within their own ranks, loyalty was never guaranteed.
"How's my father?" Nico asked.
Marco exhaled heavily. "Alive, but pissed. Bullet grazed his shoulder. Doctor patched him up, but he won’t be moving around much for a few days. And he’s already demanding to know who’s responsible."
"Of course he is."
Lorenzo Romano wasn’t the kind of man to lie in bed and rest, even if he had a bullet wound. He’d built his empire through sheer force of will, and he expected the same from his son.
Marco leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "We need a plan, Nico."
"We already have one," Nico said. "Find the rat. Eliminate them. Send a message."
Marco's expression didn't change. "And you think it’s that simple?"
"No," Nico admitted. "But it’s where we start."
Marco studied him for a moment before nodding. "I’ll start shaking the trees. See what falls."
Nico stood, rolling his shoulders. "Good. And Marco? Be discreet. If someone on the inside set this up, they’ll be watching our every move."
Marco’s smirk was faint but lethal. "I’ll be a ghost."
With that, he left the office, leaving Nico alone with his thoughts.
He should be focusing on the traitor. On the threats circling his family. But there was one thing he needed to do first.
**********
Nico pushed open the heavy door to his father’s bedroom. Lorenzo Romano was not a man who tolerated weakness, even in himself. But even he had not been able to completely hide the pain as he sat propped up against a pile of pillows.
A heavy bandage wrapped around his left shoulder, his usual impeccable suit replaced by a loose dress shirt. But his dark eyes were as sharp as ever when they snapped up to meet Nico’s.
"You look like hell," Lorenzo muttered.
Nico smirked. "You don’t look so great yourself."
His father exhaled sharply, something almost like amusement flickering in his eyes. Then he waved a hand toward the chair beside the bed. "Sit."
Nico did, crossing one leg over the other. "You should be resting."
"And you should be out there making sure whoever did this is dead," Lorenzo shot back. "What do you have so far?"
"It was an inside job. Had to be. They knew exactly where you’d be."
Lorenzo hummed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "You have suspects?"
"Marco is already working on it. We’ll start questioning our men."
Lorenzo nodded, then winced slightly as he shifted. "Make it fast. If we don’t handle this soon, people will start seeing us as weak. And weakness invites more attacks."
Nico knew that all too well. "I won’t let that happen."
His father studied him for a long moment. "Good. Because if you do, you’ll be digging more graves than just the one for the traitor."
There was no warmth in his words, but Nico had never expected any. That wasn’t how their relationship worked. But even so, there was something reassuring about seeing Lorenzo still fighting.
"I’ll take care of it," Nico promised, standing. "Rest. Next time I come in here, I want to see you back in a suit."
Lorenzo snorted. "Then don’t come back too soon."
*********
As Nico left his father’s room, his mind was already moving to the next problem. The traitor. The retaliation. The need to strike first.
But even through all of that, one thought kept creeping back in.
Elena.
A woman who had appeared out of nowhere, thrown herself into the middle of a mafia auction, and now wanted a job in his family’s business.
Nico wasn’t stupid. Elena was hiding something. The problem was, he didn’t know what.
But he intended to find out.
Tomorrow. Noon. She’d be walking into his world, into his test.
And Nico would be waiting.
- Writer
