Antonio's counterattack

She nodded. "Let’s end this."

They entered the club, the bass of the music thrumming through the air. Inside, gold chandeliers cast a dim glow over velvet booths and polished floors. Luca’s presence alone turned heads—he moved with an air of dominance that made people step aside.

Marco was exactly where they expected him, lounging in a VIP booth, a glass of expensive liquor in hand, laughing with a few associates.

Elena walked ahead of Luca, her heels clicking against the floor as she approached the table.

Marco’s eyes flickered with surprise, then wariness. "Elena." He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Luca slid into the seat across from him, his presence instantly making the mood shift. "We need to talk."

Marco tensed, his fingers tightening around his glass. "I’m always happy to talk, but something tells me this isn’t a social visit."

Elena leaned forward. "We know someone warned Antonio about the casino job. And we know it was someone close."

Marco’s smirk faltered. "You think it was me?"

Luca’s eyes darkened. "Was it?"

Marco exhaled sharply, setting his drink down. "I didn’t betray you, Elena."

She searched his face for any sign of a lie, but before she could press further, her phone buzzed. A message flashed across the screen:

You’re too late.

Her blood ran cold.

Luca leaned in, reading the text over her shoulder. His jaw tightened. "It’s Antonio."

Marco’s expression shifted. "What’s going on?"

Luca stood, pulling Elena up with him. "If you didn’t betray us, Marco, then you better hope we figure out who did—before Antonio makes his next move."

Because whatever Antonio was planning, one thing was clear.

He wasn’t just playing defense anymore.

He was coming for them.

______

Elena and Luca barely made it out of the club before the sound of screeching tires filled the air. A black SUV came to a sudden stop in front of them, and before they could react, masked men jumped out.

Luca was fast—his hand went to his gun instantly—but so were they.

"Drop it," one of them ordered, aiming straight at Elena.

Luca’s grip tightened around his weapon, his expression unreadable. Elena could feel the tension crackling in the air.

Antonio wasn’t waiting anymore. He was making his move.

One of the masked men stepped forward, tossing a phone to Luca. "Boss wants to talk."

Luca caught it, his expression dark as he answered.

Antonio’s voice came through, smooth and confident. "Surprised?"

Luca exhaled, unimpressed. "Not really. You always did like theatrics, Ricci."

Antonio chuckled. "You stole from me. You embarrassed me. You think I’d just let that go?"

Luca glanced at Elena. "I was hoping you’d give us a little more of a challenge."

Antonio’s voice lost its amusement. "This isn’t a game, DeLuca. Hand over Elena, and I might consider letting you walk away."

Elena’s pulse spiked.

Luca’s jaw clenched. "Not happening."

Antonio sighed. "Then I guess we do this the hard way."

The masked men moved.

Luca didn’t hesitate—he grabbed Elena, pulling her behind him as gunfire erupted. The street exploded into chaos as Luca’s men, already waiting in the shadows, opened fire in return.

Elena ducked behind a car, her heart pounding as she tried to process what just happened.

Antonio hadn’t just sent a message.

He had declared war.

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