Enzo burst into the study, his urgency slicing through the calm like a blade.
"The shipment's been attacked," he announced, voice tight with tension. That was all it took to snap me to full attention. I shut my laptop without a word, my focus narrowing to the man standing before me. The news wasn't exactly a surprise, something about this run had always felt off but the confirmation hit differently.
"How did that happen?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral but firm.
"I don't really know," he said, exhaling sharply. "But according to one of our men, they were ambushed on the road, came out of nowhere."
"And the men?"
"Out of eleven, seven are seriously injured. I already contacted Dr. Fabio. He's on his way to treat them." I nodded once, absorbing the blow.
"The goods?"
Enzo hesitated, then slowly shook his head, mouthing something I barely caught.
"All gone?" I pressed.
"Not even one crate left," he confirmed grimly. "Nothing was spared."
I took a slow breath, stood, and pushed the chair back with a faint creak. My steps were unhurried as I made my way to the coffee machine. The silence hung thick, broken only by the soft whir of the machine as I selected a brew. I reached for a mug, poured the steaming liquid, and took a moment to inhale the rich aroma. Cradling the cup, I walked past Enzo, my footsteps soft against the polished wood floor. I eased into the leather couch in the study's far corner, letting the warmth of the drink seep into my fingers. Enzo's gaze was burning into me. He was trying to figure out how I could remain so calm with chaos breaking around us. He'd worked with me long enough to know I didn't do panic. If anything, the calm was my warning signal.
"Coffee?" I offered casually.
He blinked at me. "Coffee? Are you being serious right now?" His voice was rising, his restraint slipping.
"Yes," I replied without missing a beat. "Trust me, you're going to need the strength. Might as well grab some before things get worse."
Enzo threw his arms up. "How the hell can we talk about coffee when the shipment's gone and our men are bleeding out?" I took another sip. His frustration was expected. Predictable, even.
"Seriously?" he barked. "We should be focused on damage control. What is going on with you?".
I finished my coffee with one final sip and stood. Moving to the edge of the room, I rinsed the mug in the sink, the sound of water adding an odd sense of calm to the tension. Once the cup was in its place, I turned and walked back toward him, my steps deliberate, steady.
"No one outside this family knew about that shipment leaving today," I said, pausing directly in front of him.
"No one."
He squinted, catching the shift in my tone.
"You're not saying what I think you're saying…?"
"We've got a mole," I said flatly. I pushed past him in one swift motion, drew my gun, and fired a single shot at the closed door. The sound was deafening in the quiet room. A muffled thump followed; the sound of a body hitting the floor. Enzo stared, stunned. "And apparently", I added, "we've also got unwanted visitors".
His eyes darted to the door. "How long had he been there?" I pretended to think.
"Let's see… about the time I started brewing my coffee."
His face turned crimson. "You're insane. Are you trying to get us killed?"
I raised a hand, calm and composed. "Relax. I've got this under control."
Before I could elaborate, rapid gunfire erupted from the floor below, shaking the windows. I met Enzo's eyes, all trace of amusement gone. I gave a sharp jerk of my head to move. Without another word, he fell in step beside me, jaw set in determination.
"I told you we'd need that coffee," I muttered with a smirk.
"I'm seriously starting to regret not listening to you," he shot back, voice laced with dry sarcasm.
The gunfire intensified, echoing through the walls like thunder. We swept out of the room, weapons raised, our movements fluid and instinctive. Each step was calculated, each shot precise. We moved like predators, efficient, cold, and deadly. By the time we reached the staircase, two bodies were already down, the third barely had time to raise his weapon before Enzo put a bullet between his eyes. This wasn't just an ambush. This was a message. Someone wanted us distracted. Disarmed. And worst of all; divided. As we cleared the hallway, back to back, our breathing synchronized with the rhythm of combat, I knew one thing for certain. The mole wasn't just a threat, he was just the beginning. It's will be a very long day.