The city seemed different tonight—darker, more menacing, as though it had taken on a life of its own, a life that thrived in the shadows. Bianca sat in the back of the sleek black car, her fingers gripping the edge of the seat as she stared out at the blurred lights of the streets. The weight of the mission that Lorenzo had given her was like a stone in her chest. Eliminate Salvatore? A man who had been with the family for years? Someone whose loyalty was now in question? She swallowed hard, trying to push down the knot that had formed in her throat. The instructions had been clear, but the implications were anything but simple. She had never imagined that she would be the one making such decisions—decisions that could mean life or death in the world she had entered. It was one thing to be an observer, another to be a player. And tonight, she was most definitely a player. As the car slowed, Bianca glanced out the window and saw the outline of a large building looming ahead. It was a luxury hotel, one of the many owned by the De Luca family. But this one was different. This one had a darker reputation. It catered to more than just the wealthy and powerful—it was a place where business deals were made, where enemies were neutralized, and where the family's secrets were kept. The car came to a stop in front of the hotel's grand entrance, and the driver opened the door for her. Bianca hesitated for a moment, the weight of the task before her making her second-guess everything she had been told. But there was no turning back. She had crossed a line, and there was no retreat now. She stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she made her way into the hotel. Inside, the opulent interior did nothing to calm her nerves. The chandeliers gleamed overhead, casting long, golden reflections on the polished marble floors. The soft murmur of voices and clinking glasses drifted from the bar area, but none of it reached Bianca as she walked with purpose toward the elevator. She wasn't here for luxury. She was here to do the family's bidding. The elevator doors closed with a soft chime, and Bianca pressed the button for the top floor. She glanced at her reflection in the mirrored walls, taking in her carefully composed face, her sleek black dress, the perfectly styled hair. She looked like someone who belonged in this world—a world that was not her own but one she had learned to navigate with caution and precision. But inside, she was anything but calm. Her heart raced, her pulse quickened, and the uncertainty gnawed at her. The elevator stopped, and the doors opened to a long hallway, its dim lighting casting eerie shadows along the walls. Bianca stepped out, her heels clicking softly on the floor as she approached the suite at the end of the hall. The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open, her heart pounding in her chest. Salvatore was sitting in the center of the room, a glass of whiskey in hand, his back to her. The faint hum of a television set was the only sound as she entered. He didn't turn around immediately, and for a moment, Bianca wondered if he even knew she was there. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he turned in his chair, his sharp eyes meeting hers. "Bianca," he said, his voice smooth and cold. "I was wondering when you'd come." She didn't reply immediately, taking a moment to assess him. Salvatore was older than most of the men in the family, his face lined with age and experience. But his eyes—those dark, calculating eyes—told a different story. He was not a man who trusted easily, and even now, as he studied her, Bianca could feel the weight of his scrutiny. "You've been busy," she said, keeping her voice steady. She wasn't sure what approach to take, whether to play it cool or get straight to the point. The tension in the room was palpable, and she could almost taste it. Salvatore set the glass down on the table beside him, his eyes never leaving her. "Lorenzo doesn't trust me, does he?" he asked, his tone low but edged with a hint of amusement. Bianca stiffened, the question throwing her off balance. "What makes you say that?" He chuckled darkly. "Come on, Bianca. I've been in this game long enough to know when I'm being watched. And you? You're not just here on a social call, are you?" Bianca's gaze hardened. She had to stay focused. "Lorenzo needs to know where your loyalty lies. That's why I'm here." Salvatore's smile faded, and he leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. "Loyalty," he said, as if the word tasted strange on his tongue. "Loyalty is a tricky thing, don't you think? You can't trust anyone in this business, not even your own blood." Bianca's pulse quickened at his words. She had heard the whispers, the rumors about Salvatore's shifting allegiances. But hearing it from him, from the source itself, made it all the more real. "So, what does that mean for you?" she asked, her voice steady despite the unease bubbling inside her. Salvatore's lips curled into a smirk, and he stood, walking slowly toward her. "It means that I've been thinking about things, Bianca. About where I stand, about where this family is headed." He stopped just inches away from her, his eyes narrowing. "Lorenzo has big plans, but he's not the only one who wants control." The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Bianca felt a chill run down her spine. She had suspected that there were others in the family who might be vying for power, but hearing it from Salvatore himself made it feel far more immediate. She wasn't just playing a game—she was caught in the middle of a war. She stepped back, her mind racing as she processed his words. "So, what are you saying? You want to take over?" Salvatore's gaze darkened, and he took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I'm saying that you and I can help each other. You're in a position to make things happen. Lorenzo trusts you, and that means you have influence. You could be more than just his woman—you could be someone with real power. All you have to do is choose the right side." Bianca recoiled slightly, but her mind was already working, weighing his offer. She had always known that loyalty was fluid in this world, that alliances could change at a moment's notice. But this? This was different. Salvatore wasn't just offering her a partnership—he was trying to pull her away from Lorenzo, from everything she had worked for. "I don't think I need to make any decisions just yet," she said, her voice cold and controlled. "I'm here to see where your loyalty lies. If you truly believe what you're saying, then I'll have to report back to Lorenzo." Salvatore watched her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Don't make the mistake of thinking loyalty is something that can be measured. It's a game, Bianca. And in this game, everyone is expendable. Even you." The words stung, but Bianca didn't show it. She had come here to gather information, not to get pulled into a web of deceit. She had to stay focused on her mission—and if that meant walking away from Salvatore's offer, so be it. "I'm not interested in playing your game," she said, turning toward the door. "I'm here to do my job. Nothing more." As she reached for the handle, Salvatore's voice stopped her. "Remember this, Bianca," he said, his voice low and almost soft. "When you choose to trust someone, make sure they're worth it. Trust can be a weapon, or it can be a weakness. Choose wisely." Bianca didn't reply. She stepped out of the room and into the hallway, her mind spinning. She had come here with one goal—to assess Salvatore, to understand where he stood. But now, she was more uncertain than ever. The lines between right and wrong, loyalty and betrayal, were blurred in this world, and she was starting to wonder if she would ever find her place in it. As she made her way back to the elevator, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the name on the screen.
Lorenzo.