Ricardo's POV
The Wet n' Wild club.
Inside, I hear music and see bodies moving together under flashing neon lights. It's the kind of place where power and indulgence collide, where men with too much money spend it on women who pretend to love them.
And it belongs to Bianca Luigi. A woman of class and style. On the surface, she's the epitome of elegance, the kind who dines with politicians and graces the covers of luxury magazines. But beneath that exterior, she's just like the rest of us, doing dirty business in the shadows.
I step inside, and within seconds, she spots me. From across the room, her hazel eyes meet mine with a smirk on her lips. She doesn't wave or call me over, she just tilts her head slightly.
I cross the room, brushing past barely clothed women, businessmen, and men who think they own the world simply because they paid for a table.
Bianca remains seated, wearing an emerald silk dress that clings to her like it was made for her body alone. "To what do I owe this visit?" she asks.
I slide into the seat across from her. "Business."
Bianca chuckles, swirling the liquid in her glass before taking a slow sip. "Ricardo Borrelli discussing business with his father-in-law's rival? Now that's diabolical."
I arch a brow. "He's not my father-in-law. I'm not married to his daughter."
She scoffs. "Come on, Ric. You and his little princess have been together since she was, what? Sixteen? So, whether or not she has a ring on her finger, Inzaghi still remains your father-in-law."
I exhale through my nose, already sick of the conversation. "Well, too bad he and I don't have the same definition of family."
Bianca smirks. "So what makes you want to betray Inzaghi?"
"I'm not betraying him," I correct. "I'm doing business."
She laughs. "Our only true friend and confidant is money, and that, my dear Ricardo, is something we both share in common."
I chuckle. "Oh no, I have friends and confidants."
Bianca raises a brow. "Oh really?" She leans forward slightly. "Out of all the mafia bosses in this city, you've really been trending lately."
I frown, unsure of what she means. "I don't understand."
She tilts her head. "You had that not-so-little problem with that golden cop, didn't you? That Charles guy? He almost got you."
I smirk. "Thank goodness I have a good lawyer."
She scoffs. "Sure. And what about Enzo? Your loan shark?" She tuts, shaking her head. "I heard the news."
I adjust my posture slightly whilst keeping my expression neutral. "What are you getting at, Bianca?"
Instead of answering, she signals to a man behind the bar. "Mix us something strong," she orders before turning back to me.
She studies me for a moment, then says, "Whatever business you want me to do with you, I hope I won't get dragged under with you." She crosses one leg over the other. "And I certainly hope this isn't about you trying to buy your way out of your problem with Inzaghi."
I chuckle, shaking my head. "I see you did your research on me before accepting my request."
She shrugs elegantly. "Oh, please." The bartender places two glasses in front of us. Bianca picks up hers first, takes a slow sip, and exhales in satisfaction. "Like I said, your world is no longer in the shadows. You have to fight in broad daylight to protect what you own."
There is silence for a while as I process her words. She's right.
"So, what is this business deal about?" Bianca asks.
I pick up my drink and take a slow gulp. Then, I place the glass back down and lean forward slightly.
"Nah," I say, standing up. "Forget it."
Bianca's eyes widens. "You're leaving?"
I adjust my cuffs. "I changed my mind."
She tilts her head. "What changed?"
I meet her gaze. "You are right. I have to fight in broad daylight to protect what I own." I turn and walk away, leaving Bianca staring after me in shock.
On the road in the car, I stare at the envelope in my hands. I flip it open, pulling out the grainy pictures again. Enzo, slouched at a bar, with his face halfway hidden behind the rim of a glass. I focus on the background, the blurry neon glow of a sign just above his head.
I tilt my head, studying the picture closer until I make out the words behind him—Marino Tigress Casino. My jaw clenches at the sight of it. There's only one Marino Tigress Casino. And it's not in this city.
It's in Mexico.
I exhale, tapping the envelope against my knee. I should've known Enzo would run somewhere out of reach. But the problem is, nowhere is really out of reach for me. So, I pull out my phone, already planning my next move. I won't go alone.
The question is, who do I take? Antonella or Lana? Antonella is… crazy. She makes a scene wherever she goes, and while she's my baby mama, she's also the last person I want to be trapped on my private plane with.
Lana, on the other hand, is mine. My secret. The world doesn't know what she is to me, and that's exactly how I want it. I roll my shoulders. Could I stand Antonella for an entire trip? No. I couldn't. The decision is made. I'm taking Lana.
I raise my gaze towards the driver. "Take me back to my secret mansion. I have someone to prepare."
Because whether she wants to or not, Lana is coming with me.
Charles' POV
The phone keeps ringing, and ringing, and ringing.
I lean against my desk, clenching my jaw as I listen to the sound of failure for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. Where the hell is Davida Gonzalez? It's past midnight. I've been trying to reach him for hours, but no one picks up.
My patience is running out. Just as I'm about to slam the phone down, it rings. I inhale sharply and answer instantly. But the moment I answer, I realize something's off. It's not a man's voice on the other end. It's a young girl's.
"Hola." She says.
I blink, thrown off. "Hello."
There is a slight pause, then, "¿Quién eres?" (Who are you?)
"I need to speak with Señor Davida Gonzalez."
She hums, like she's thinking it over. "And why would you need to speak to my father?"
Father? Great. I got the kingpin's kid on the line. I glance at my desk, spotting the handwritten note I prepared. If Gonzalez wasn't going to pick up, I'd make sure his daughter got the message loud and clear.
"El diablo camina entre nosotros, pero su tiempo llegará." (The devil walks among us, but his time will come.)
I hear a sharp inhale from the other end. "¿Qué dijiste?"(what did you say?)
I don't stop. "Ricardo Borrelli's time has come."
Then, I hear muffled whispers, hurried footsteps, and a rustling noise. Then, the next voice that comes through is exactly who I've been waiting for. It is a deep and gruff heavy Spanish accent.
"Davida Gonzalez on the line. What do you want?"
I exhale slowly. Finally. "I want retribution. Just like you do."
There is a brief pause on the line. "Who are you?"
I hesitate before speaking. "Charles, Charles Gregory."
He laughs hysterically. "Retribution? From a cop? That's rich."
I scoff. "Not just any cop. The golden cop."
There is a shift in his tone. "I know who you are. I know about your failed case with the bastard."
My fingers tighten around the phone. "So then, you know that Ricardo Borrelli has somehow managed to take that away from me. Now you see why I want revenge."
He laughed again, but this time, it's amused. "A cop seeking vengeance… by making a deal with a Spanish kingpin? How do I know you're not full of shit?"
I don't hesitate. "I'll meet you wherever you are. Unarmed."
That shuts him up. And for a few seconds, there's nothing but silence. Then,
"Fine. See you in Mexico tomorrow."
Before I can say another word, the line goes dead. I stare at the phone before scoffing. Arrogant bastard. And then, another call comes in. It is Alma. I sigh before answering.
"You know," she starts immediately, "for a guy who keeps sleeping with me, you sure as hell don't text or call me. You don't even ask how I've been! I get that we're not official, but at least act like it!"
I pinch the bridge of my nose as she continues her rant, listing every single reason why I'm a terrible person.
When she finally stops to breathe, I ask calmly, "Would you want to go on a trip to Mexico with me?"
Her tone shifts. "Wait… what?"
I smirk. That got her attention. "Pack your best clothes," I tell her. "We leave early tomorrow morning."
There's a pause on the line, after that she replies in a sultry tone. "Yes, Daddy."
I hang up, already imagining what's to come. Mexico is about to get very interesting.