Chapter 43: The Devil We Know
The knock came at midnight.
Three firm raps. No more, no less.
Luca's eyes met Marco's in the dim light of the safehouse kitchen. Both men had been waiting, neither slept, neither spoke much since the message was sent. The silence between them wasn't cold; it was calculated. Tension had become their companion, and tonight, it pressed tighter than ever.
Marco stood first. "That's him."
Luca didn't move right away. His hand hovered near his gun, fingers twitching with memory and instinct. "He could've brought someone."
"He wouldn't," Marco said, his voice low and sure. "Ethan doesn't trust easily. Not even his shadows."
Luca gave a tight nod and moved to the door. Through the peephole, he saw the silhouette of a man in a tailored black coat, his face tilted upward like he knew he was being watched. Not hiding. Never hiding. Just waiting.
Luca opened the door.
Ethan stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the room like he owned it. His presence was clean, calculated, every movement smooth, like a blade drawn from silk. He hadn't changed, not in the ways that mattered.
"You're alive," Ethan said coolly, eyes landing on Luca first.
"Disappointed?" Luca asked.
"Relieved." Ethan's lips quirked into the faintest smile. "You're harder to kill than rumors suggest."
Marco moved to stand beside Luca, arms crossed. "Cut the pleasantries. You know why you're here."
Ethan raised a brow and walked past them, uninvited, settling into one of the chairs like a king addressing his court. "Of course. But if we're going to talk about Victor, you'll need more than suspicion and fury. You'll need truth."
Luca shut the door behind him. "Then start talking."
Ethan steepled his fingers. "Victor's not just rebuilding his empire, he's rewriting it. What you saw at the estate? That was only the surface. The real work is happening underground, new alliances, new territories. He's planning something that makes his past crimes look like child's play."
Luca's jaw tightened. "We already knew he was moving shipments. Weapons. Drugs."
Ethan shook his head. "No. Not just weapons. Information. Leverage. He's trading secrets now, politicians, law enforcement, corporations. Victor's become more than a kingpin. He's become a ghost broker. He doesn't need guns to bring the city to its knees. Just names."
That landed heavy in the room.
Marco leaned forward. "And you know this… how?"
"Because I helped build it." Ethan didn't blink, didn't flinch. "Before I walked away."
Luca stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. "And now you want to help us tear it down?"
"I want to survive," Ethan said, eyes locked with his. "Same as you. Victor's making enemies on all sides. You think you're the only ones hunting him? There's a list. And everyone on it has blood on their hands."
Luca studied him. "Why come here? Why not disappear?"
Ethan's gaze flicked to Marco. "Because I know Victor. His next move will be brutal, public. He wants to make a point. He'll come after the people who humiliated him, you. And he won't miss this time."
Marco's fingers drummed against his arm. "So what do we do?"
Ethan reached into his coat and tossed a flash drive onto the table. "This has enough on his current network to start making noise. Routes. Names. One of his safe locations. Not his headquarters, but close."
Luca grabbed it, suspicious. "Why give this to us?"
Ethan smiled faintly. "Because I know you'll burn it all down."
"And what's your price?" Marco asked, ever the realist.
Ethan stood. "My price is that when the time comes, you don't hesitate. No mercy. Not for Victor. Not for anyone protecting him."
Silence fell. A pact unspoken.
After a moment, Ethan's eyes softened just enough. "I'm staying at the Danton. Room 812. When you're ready for the next step, find me."
He turned, but paused at the door.
"Oh… and Luca?" His voice dropped, coated in something that almost sounded like nostalgia. "Don't let revenge blind you to the cost. Victor already lost his soul. Don't follow him."
And then he was gone, like smoke slipping under the door.
Later, Marco sat on the edge of the bed, shirt off, fresh bruises blooming across his ribs like paint splattered by war. Luca patched him up in silence, the antiseptic biting as much as the words neither of them wanted to say.
Finally, Marco spoke. "Do you believe him?"
Luca didn't look up. "I believe he's scared. And Ethan doesn't scare easily."
"And if he's playing us?"
"Then we kill him too," Luca said flatly.
A beat passed, heavy.
Marco reached for his shirt, but his hand brushed Luca's, lingering. "You sure you're okay?"
Luca paused, then sat beside him. "No. I don't think I've been okay since the night Victor killed my brother. Since I realized everything we fought for was built on lies."
"You still have me," Marco said quietly.
Luca turned to him, their eyes meeting, words hovering on the edge of lips but never spoken. "That's the only thing keeping me from losing myself."
They sat in silence, the kind that only exists between people who have seen each other bleed.
Outside, the wind howled through the trees like the city was warning them, things were about to get worse.
But for the first time in a long time, Luca felt steady. Not because the war was ending, but because he had someone to fight beside.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city…
Victor stood before a polished map, red pins scattered like blood drops across it. The estate may have burned, but the empire lived. Men in suits waited behind him, their faces tense.
A voice crackled over a speaker. "They survived."
Victor's lip curled. "Good."
He turned, the glint in his eyes razor-sharp. "Let them think they're gaining ground. Let them taste small victories. The storm is coming… and I will drown them in it."
He walked away from the map and into the shadows, where vengeance breathed and monsters smiled.
To be continued…