Crimson Loyalty

10. First Cut

The warehouse on the edge of Brooklyn burned with a slow, satisfying crackle.

Nico stood across the street, watching the flames dance behind the busted-out windows. No sirens yet. No witnesses. Just smoke curling into the night and the faint scent of gasoline.

"Shipment confirmed?" he asked without turning.

Luca nodded beside him, face lit in orange glow. "Women. Documents. A full ledger of the routes."

"Good." Nico's voice was low. Final. "Let Dario know I'm not playing nice anymore."

Luca gave a tight smile. "This'll hurt him."

"That's the point."

-

Dario had stepped over the line. Human trafficking. Eastern European girls sold like f*****g inventory. Nico had buried his own father for less.

And yet, somehow, this wasn't even about the business anymore.

It was personal.

Because Sienna wasn't just a wife to Dario-she was collateral. A trophy. A hostage in silk.

And even though Nico didn't fully understand what was happening behind those estate walls, he didn't have to.

He'd seen enough.

Dario was a rotting god wearing a crown of blood, and if Nico had to tear down his whole empire to free her-or to ruin him-he would.

One match at a time.

-

Later that night, Nico walked the halls of his own estate with the silence of a man waiting for the next move. His men were in position. The docks were being watched. His tech guy had eyes on Dario's encrypted messages.

Still... something itched at the back of his mind.

Something about the way Dario's routes were shifting. The shipments moving further inland. Deeper into the country.

He wasn't just reacting. He was hiding something.

And whatever it was... it wasn't just about business anymore.

It was about legacy.

It was about power.

And Nico was ready to rip that legacy out of Dario's cold, dirty hands.

Starting now.

Nico pulled out his phone as the warehouse collapsed inward, sparks shooting into the sky like fireworks.

He dialed a number he hadn't used in years.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then a voice answered, smooth and low. "Didn't think I'd hear from you again."

"I'm not calling for conversation," Nico said. "I'm calling because I want Dario Vega broken."

A pause. Then a dark chuckle. "You're finally ready, huh?"

"I want his routes. His secrets. His weak points."

"You know that'll cost you."

"I'm done counting the price."

Another pause.

Then: "Meet me in Boston. Forty-eight hours. I'll bring what you need-if you're sure you're ready to burn it all."

Nico's jaw clenched.

He didn't hesitate.

"I already lit the first match."

He hung up without saying goodbye.

And for the first time in weeks... he smiled.