Vincent pushed the door open and strode in. "I can get us out of here," he said, closing the gap between them.
Victor rose to his full height and filled the doorway like a wall. He had always been bigger, but right now he carried coiled rage. His voice cut sharp.
"I don’t trust you. You keep screwing up the plan."
He stepped forward until his shadow fell over Vincent. "We’d already be in Dominus territory if you hadn’t been blabbing."
Victor wanted to intimidate him, to make him shrink back. Vincent did not. He planted his feet and t the Giant’s stare.
He needed to stay alive, not for pride but to prove he was not weak, to prove to Lucero that he was useful.
"I’ve lived in this city since I was ten," Vincent said. His words were steady and quick.
"I know it better than anyone in this room. I won’t ss this up again."
He let that hang for a beat, then added, "Diablo wants alive. You need for that."
Victor’s dark eyes narrowed. He paced once, then stopped, as if weighing whether Vincent was worth keeping.
Finally Victor grunted and stepped back.
"One more fuck-up," he said. His voice was low and cold. "You ss up and I break your skull."
Vincent nodded. "Give the map."
Victor barked an order and his friend shuffled over to fetch one. He unfolded a large, stained map and slapped it flat on the table.
Vincent leaned in, tracing routes with his finger.
Vincent pointed. "We’re in San Lioran, inner city. Dense streets, perfect for hiding, but they’ve got drones up. So we smuggle inside the delivery truck to be able to go south since the sea route’s out."
Victor clicked his tongue. "You want to cut through Lunox in the south and then into Dominus?"
"Do you know my head’s a bounty there? I’d be walking from the alligator pit into the lion’s mouth."
"You’d be dead before we reached the coast," Vincent shot back. He slapped the map with the heel of his hand.
"The docks are locked down more tightly than the land route. Every warehouse, every shipping lane is watched. We can’t touch the coast without starting a fight."
Victor’s jaw tightened. "Lunox will co after us. If they want to be petty, the Leopard might even let Basilisk n through." He spat the last word.
Vincent’s eyes hardened. He took a breath and leaned closer until their faces were only inches apart.
"Either you’re underestimating , or your boss doesn’t have the whole plan. I’ve got a line to the Leopard. He’ll move us through."
Victor scoffed, voice heavy with contempt. "Your ’line’ is paper-thin. Where are Lunox’s n now? They left you. It’s just Dominus backing you. Don’t pretend you’ve got support."
He jabbed a finger at Vincent’s chest. "You’re dreaming if you think you’ve got backup."
Vincent’s patience snapped like a wire. He pushed a fingertip into the map and jabbed at a na.
"We go past Pepe Warehouse, that’s the choke point. Lunox would not commit every unit for a cleanup when Lucero is burning down the whole city. They are not Basilisk madn."
"How can you be sure?" Victor demanded. He slamd his palm on the table. "Do you actually know the Leopard?"
"I don’t," Vincent said, voice tight. "But we need a route and a window. The more we wait, the tighter Lucero’s noose gets. Their n are everywhere."
Victor’s face twisted. He opened his mouth and then closed it. The room humd with the sound of blood in Vincent’s ears.
"Damn it," Vincent hissed, the words hot.
"You keep denying , but the longer we stay, the sooner they find us. Salvator will tear this place apart until he gets what he wants."
Silence landed after that like a verdict. Victor stared down at Vincent, asuring the risk, the stubbornness, and finally the necessity.
He did not like it, but he nodded once. The plan was ugly and dangerous, and it was all they had.
Vincent traced the route on the map with his finger. "We’ll need a truck to pass the checkpoint in the industrial ring," he said.
"Once we reach the Canale Cero district, we switch vehicles and move through El Pepe. From there, we’ll follow the coastline road to stay off Lunox’s radar."
Victor took a deep breath and gave a curt nod. "Fine. Let’s do it."
He turned toward Ale. "Call our n. One of them should be able to smuggle us through."
Ale nodded quickly and left the room, leaving the two of them alone. The silence between them hung heavy, neither man eager to speak first.
"You’re an asshole," Victor said at last, his tone flat but loaded.
"I never fail a mission. If my boss is disappointed in because of you, I’ll kill you to make up for it."
Vincent sighed. "Is killing the only thing you ever think about?"
Victor shrugged, his mouth curling into a mocking grin. "At least I don’t betray the hand that feeds ."
Vincent’s jaw tightened. "You’ve never worn my shoes. You don’t know what it’s like to claw your way up, only to be insulted and degraded even when you’re already at the top."
Victor scoffed. "Welco to the mafia, little alpha." He patted Vincent’s shoulder and walked out, leaving him alone as he felt insulted.
---
The truck’s movent made Vincent feel sick. He sat in a cramped compartnt surrounded by boxes, the air thick with the sll of tal and fuel.
At least Victor was in a separate crate, his constant presence would’ve been worse than the nausea.
"We’re stopping for a checkpoint," Ale called from the driver’s seat as the truck slowed. Vincent heard muffled voices outside.
"Another delivery?" a guard asked.
"Yeah, sa as usual," Ale replied smoothly. "Got so new products too."
But before the conversation could go further, the sound of splintering wood cut through the air. Victor burst out of his crate, his eyes sharp and wild.
"I sll trouble," he muttered. "Grab your gun. Shoot when I do."
Vincent glared. "Are you insane? Those are your n! Why would they betray you?"
Victor’s grip tightened on his weapon. "You’re the Serpent’s right hand, and you betrayed him."
"There’s a bounty on all our heads, bigger than they’ve ever seen. That’s reason enough."
Vincent didn’t argue. But his curiosity got the best of him when the container door opened.
He tore a hole in the box to see what was happening outside.
The n were ard, their movents too precise to be random. The insignia on their sleeves confird it, they were Lucero’s.
One of them spoke into his earpiece. "Target confird. They’re here, in the outer ring of Canale Cero."
"Damn it," Vincent hissed, just as the first shots rang out.
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