The next morning, Matt made the call.
"Russo."
A pause. Then the agent's voice came through, sharp and controlled. "Didn't expect to hear from you, Bianchi."
"You should have." Matt leaned against the balcony railing, the city stretching out beneath him. "We need to talk. Face to face."
Russo let out a slow breath. "You finally ready to make a deal?"
Matt smirked. "Something like that. La Notte, midnight. Come alone."
He hung up before Russo could ask questions.
Miriam, standing inside with a coffee in hand, raised a brow. "Think he'll take the bait?"
Matt turned to her. "If he doesn't, I'll make him."
She studied him for a moment. "And when he shows?"
Matt's expression darkened. "We bury him."
Miriam nodded. "Then I'll set up the exit plan."
This wasn't just a hit. Taking out an FBI agent meant war. And once Russo was dead, there would be no turning back.
But Matt had already crossed that line.
Midnight — La Notte
The nightclub was closed to the public, the front doors locked. Inside, the lights were low, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and gunpowder.
Matt sat at a booth near the back, his gun resting on his thigh beneath the table. Miriam stood near the bar, scanning the entrance.
At exactly midnight, the door creaked open.
Agent Daniel Russo stepped inside.
He wasn't alone.
Two men in suits flanked him, hands resting near their holsters. Russo locked eyes with Matt and gave a slow shake of his head. "You really thought I'd come alone?"
Matt smirked. "Would've been stupid if you did."
Russo stepped forward. "You made the call, Bianchi. So tell me—why am I here?"
Matt leaned back, his fingers tapping against the glass in front of him. "Because I wanted to see your face before I put you in the ground."
Silence.
Then—gunfire.
Miriam moved first, dropping one of Russo's men before he could even reach for his weapon. Matt flipped the table and fired, catching the second in the chest.
Russo dove for cover, pulling his own gun. But Matt was faster.
He stalked forward, kicking Russo's weapon out of reach. The agent gritted his teeth, gripping his bleeding shoulder. "You think killing me will stop this? The Bureau knows everything, Bianchi. This doesn't end with me."
Matt crouched beside him. "Maybe not. But you won't be around to see how it plays out."
Russo's eyes burned with fury. "You're making a mistake."
Matt pressed the barrel of his gun to Russo's forehead.
"No. You did."
A final shot echoed through the empty club.
Russo slumped to the ground.
Miriam stepped beside Matt, gun still raised. "And just like that, we declared war."
Matt exhaled, slipping his gun back into his holster. "Let them come."
Because in this life, there were only two choices: Be the hunter, or be the hunted.
And Matt Bianchi was no prey.