Dragon and I arrived at the restaurant where we had planned to meet. It was trendier than I had expected. Vincenzo was a sucker for appearances, and tonight was no different. The restaurant's interior was softly lit, every square inch of this place felt like a dream. An atmosphere calculated to disarm, to put men like me at our ease.
I wasn't.
I felt it immediately as I walked into the restaurant—the wrongness of the room. It was in the seating position, in the placement of the glass walls that were facing the high-rise building across the street. It was in the flick of Vincenzo's eyes to that building, too quick, too frequently.
A sniper.
I almost grinned. So predictable.
Dragon felt it, too. His muscles went tight, but he didn't react otherwise. He was waiting for my signal. And beside Vincenzo, sitting, was Aleksei.
I had hoped that Vincenzo had at last come to his senses. That he had accepted the inevitable and chosen to surrender Aleksei for peace.
But the moment I beheld Aleksei's countenance, I knew that wasn't so.
The atmosphere hung thick with something unsaid.
Vincenzo rested back in his chair, spinning a half-full glass of wine. "Aren't you brave to show up in my city with only one man?"
I drew out a chair, not sitting, but just letting my fingers drum against its back. I looked him in the eye. Calm. Unfazed.
"I didn't require an army to take care of a small fry."
Vincenzo's teeth clenched, but he refused to rise to the bait. He took a sip of wine. "You're here for Aleksei."
"Sharp as ever."
A flicker of amusement ran across his features before he turned to Aleksei. "And I thought you'd be flattered, Aleksei. A man willing to step into my territory just to claim you."
I let the moment go by before I spoke again. "What did he offer you, Aleksei?
He didn't answer.
Vincenzo leaned forward, voice silky. "He doesn't owe you an explanation."
That was when I saw it, the change. The almost imperceptible stiffening of Aleksei's shoulders. A decision being made.
That was the moment before the shooting.
I was the first to react.
My hand reached for my gun. In an instant, I saw Vincenzo move, his fingers reaching for his jacket, for his own gun. Too late.
Aleksei was faster.
A gunshot echoed through the air.
Not at me. At one of Vincenzo's men.
The man didn't even get a chance to see betrayal before his body crashed to the floor, blood spilling over the pristine white tablecloth.
Vincenzo's face twisted with anger. He stumbled back— just as I fired.
The bullet struck him in the shoulder, and he staggered, fell into the table. The wine glasses shattered against the floor.
Then the sniper fired.
Dragon shoved me.
