Unwanted Guest

“This isn’t just an attack on the family — it’s war. They took Marco. From our own territory.” Elias Cruz, the oldest of the men, spoke with a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

Four men sat at the round table. Men in their fifties and sixties — built from years of power and bloodshed. Their faces were like ticking bombs, ready to explode. The news that Marco was being held hostage by the De Lucas had burned through them like acid.

Two seats at the head remained empty — reserved for Diego Rossi and his son, Leonard. They had yet to arrive.

“I say we strike back tonight. Burn down one of their warehouses. Show them what it means to touch a Rossi,” said Noel Arden, the youngest at the table, his voice hot with rage.

“And risk Marco’s life in the process?” Finn Benedetti shot back, his tone calm but sharp. “Think, Noel. This isn’t some street fight. They took him for leverage. They want us to act out of anger.”

“We sit here and wait while he’s locked up?” Noel’s leg bounced under the table. “What if they hurt him?”

“They won’t. Not yet,” said Julien Ferraro, leaning back with folded arms, his fingers brushing his jaw. “He’s worth more to them alive. This is about power, not revenge. They’re sending us a message.”

The heavy door creaked open. Diego Rossi walked in, Leonard right behind him. The men rose in greeting. Silence fell like a curtain.

Diego sat at the head of the table, gripping its edge so hard his knuckles went white. His eyes burned with fury. The others sat once he had.

“They had the guts — the audacity — to take my son,” Diego growled. His voice cut through the air like a blade. “Augustus and that bastard son of his think they can make a fool of me.”

He slammed his palms on the table, the sound echoing through the room.

Leonard stood at his father’s right, jaw clenched. “We need to hit back. Hard. Show them we’re not weak.”

“What do you suggest?” Elias asked.

“We take something from them too. Something so precious they’ll beg to trade for Marco… and our casino,” Leonard said.

Finn shook his head. “The De Lucas are cold. Whatever you take from them, they’ll take back — and then take ten times more from you. You know how they run their business. Cruel… merciless.”

Diego’s eyes flared. “And what’s your point? That I should sit here and let them devour my son because of some horror stories?”

“One thing is certain,” Julien began cautiously.

“But they will hurt him,” Diego snapped, pounding the table again. “My son was kidnapped under my nose, and you’re lecturing me about the cruelty of the De Lucas?”

Leonard stepped forward. “Father, we won’t just sit and do nothing. But if we rush in without a plan, we might never see Marco again.”

“What’s your plan then?” Diego’s voice rose. “Your brother is gone, and you want to sleep on a plan?”

Leonard’s temper snapped.

“Father!” he shouted. “If Alessandro planned to take Marco, can’t you trust me to rescue him? I’m your son, the same as Marco!”

Leonard had lived his whole life in Marco’s shadow. Whenever trouble came, blame landed on him. Marco had always been the one coddled and protected, while Leonard was sent to handle the family’s dirty work. Deep down, a bitter part of him had wished Marco would vanish one day — just to feel the air without his brother taking it all.

“This isn’t the time for fighting,” Elias interrupted firmly. “We need clear heads if we’re going to find a solution.”

The room went quiet. Then came whispers, low and tense, but nothing strong enough to drown out the fury boiling in Diego’s chest.

The doors swung open again. The whispers died instantly.

Augustus De Luca walked in with his guards, dressed in a flawless dark suit, leaning on his walking stick like a king entering a room of peasants. His cold gaze swept across the table before settling on Diego.

The men shot to their feet, hands twitching toward weapons. Augustus smirked.

“Well,” he drawled. “Quite the gathering. I almost thought you were planning a funeral… but we both know you’d need a body for that.” He chuckled.

“How did you get in here?” Leonard demanded, fury burning in his eyes.

Augustus gestured lazily to his guards. “Look at my security. That alone should tell you I can walk into any Rossi building, take whatever I want — your property, your business… your people.”

Diego surged to his feet, eyes dark with rage. “You son of a—”

“Careful,” Augustus cut in smoothly. “I’d hate for you to say something you can’t take back. After all… it must sting, losing your boy so easily. Almost pathetic, isn’t it?”

The room bristled. Hands inched toward holsters.

Leonard stepped forward, but Diego stopped him with a raised hand, his glare locked on Augustus.

“You think this is over?” Diego’s voice was low, deadly. “You think you’ll walk out of here without paying for this?”

Augustus’s smile was slow and cold. “Oh, Diego… this isn’t over. It’s just the beginning.”

He took a step toward the door, then stopped halfway and turned back.

“You know what they say… keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” His smirk deepened. “Whatever plan you make here will end up in the children’s playground. Because you’re playing a game meant for men.”

With a chuckle, Augustus walked out, his guards following.

The room was thick with rage. Heartbeats pounded. Every man stood tense, fists clenched, as the door closed behind their enemy.