The sun beat down mercilessly that afternoon, the kind of heat that cling to the skin and made the air shimmer. Yet Enzo's presence was colder than ice.
He stood outside the sleek black car, suit jacket pulled tight across his broad shoulders, jaws set in stone,
The glint of anger burnt in his eyes, sharp enough to make grown men tremble. His arm, resting loosely on the side mirror was steady, too steady. It was the kind of calm before the storm, the kind his men had learnt to fear more than his rage.
Around him, security team stood in a disciplined line,tall silent shadows scanning the street. Their sunglasses hid their eyes but their tension was clear. No one spoke, no one moved. No one moved. The only sound was the occasional shuffle of shoes against the sunbaked pavement.
Passersby slowed, stealing glances at the man who carried such a cold and authoritative aura before hurrying away, whispering under their breath.
And still, he waited. Silent. Seething. Every second that ticked by only fed the fire in his chest.
Then the office doors swung open.
A man stepped out, sleeves rolled up, tie hanging loose around his neck as if business meetings were a nuisance.
His brother.
The only one who dared to test his patience and walked away unscathed.
The younger man's lips curled into a half-smirk as his gaze landed on Henry.
"You look like you're about to kill someone," he drawled, shoving his hand casually into pocket.
Enzo's eyes narrowed, his silence speaking louder than words. The security shifted uneasily uneasily, sensing the clash of two storms about to collide. His brother took slow deliberate steps towards him, enjoying with the tension that coiled in the air.
"Relax brother," he said, his voice calm but taunting. "It was just business."
The revelation just just make Enzo's jaw tighten and darken. Business or not, Enzo hated waiting and his brother knew it.
The state-off between them only lasted seconds but for those around them, it felt like hours. Finally he turned on his heel, his coat flaring behind him as as he slid into the driver's seat of the car.
His brother smirked again, but this time he followed without a word.
The convoy of black SUV's rolled through the city like shadows swallowing the street. Windows tinted, engines low and predatory, pedestrians and smaller cars moved aside instinctively. No sirens, no flashing lights, yet everyone knew to beep their distance.
Enzo sat stiffly, eyes locked on the road ahead, his anger contained but simmering. His brother lounged in the seat opposite, one leg crossed over the other, the picture of careless ease.
The cars slowed, turning down a boulevard that glowed with neon light despite the afternoon sun. A towering casino came into view, glided doors, mirrored windows and the unmistakable aura of wealth and corruption.
As the convoy pulled to a stop in front of the entrance' men in suits poured out of the SUV, fanning into position with sharp precision. The brothers stepped out, Enzo adjusting his cuffs as if he owned not just the casino but the city itself. His presence drew eyes immediately, patrons paused mid-convo and guards straightened under the weight of his gaze.
"Try not to embarrass me in there," he muttered to his brother, voice low but lethal.
The younger man smirked, brushing invisible dust from his shirt.
"Relax, I know how to behave..."
His statement earned him a glare form Enzo.
"When there's money on the table," he shrugged, trying not to smile.
Together, they strode towards the gleaming doors. Inside waited a business deal that could end well or end with another blood on their hands.
The casino stalled them in gold and shadows, crystal chandeliers sparkled above the marble floors, laughter and the clatter of chips echoing through the vast space. But none of it touched them. Patrons moved aside instinctively as the brothers walked past, trailed by a wall of security.
A suited man hurried forward, bowing slightly.
"This way signore."
They will let down a corridor far from the noise of roulette wheels and card tables, past velvet ropes and locked doors, until they reached a private room.
The guard opened it with the keycard really polished mahogany table,low lighting and two men already waiting.
One was short and heavy set, his gold ring clinking as he shuffled a deck of cards with idle precision. The other was lean, sharp-eyed and silent, the kind of man who watched everything and trusted nothing.
Enzo entered first, his presence heavy, his gaze cold as it swept the room. His brother followed more casually, a mocking smile playing in his lips as if this was nothing more than a game. Their security fanned out, some inside, some posted at the door.
"Gentlemen," Enzo said, his voice low, controlled. He did not offer a smile, only command.
The heavy ate man rise halfway from his chair, extending a hand. "It's an honor."
Enzo ignored it, sitting down instead. His brother chuckled under his breath at the insult, settling into a seat beside Enzo.
The atmosphere immediately thickened.
Enzo's jaw tightened as he leaned forward, eyes like shapened steel.
"Where's your brother?" He asked, his voice calm but it cut through the room like a blade.
The lean man looked uncomfortable but he tried to look tough. He smirked, swirling the whiskey in his glass.
"My brother doesn't need to waste his time when he has me. You want business with the Feragnos? You'll do business with me."
The corner of Enzo's mouth twitched, something between a sneer and amusement. He studied the man like one might a cat that thought itself a lion.
"I see..." Enzo said softly, leaning forward, eyes like steel traps. "You walk in here, in his shadow, pretending you've got teeth. But tell me...what happens when I decide I don't like wasting my time?"
The man didn't flinch. He tapped the rim of his glass and smiled thinly.
"Then maybe you'll finally learn the Marcellis aren't the only ones with power in this city."
The silence that followed was brutal. Henry's men stiffened, their hands brushing their weapons, waiting for the order. But Enzo only chuckled, low and dangerous, like the roll of thunder before a storm.
Enzo leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under the weight of his control. His men didn't move, but the air in the room grew heavier, taut with the promise of violence. Across from him, the lean man still wore that smirk, though Enzo could see the flicker of nerves in his eyes.
"You've got guts," Enzo said, his voice measured, dangerous. He slowly rose to his feet, each movement deliberate, commanding. "But guts don't keep you alive in this world. Power does."
He walked around the table, his polished shoes echoing against the marble floor, until he stood right behind the man's chair. Enzo bent low, his lips inches from the man's ear.
"And the difference between us," he whispered, " is that I don't need to prove I have it. Everyone in this room already knows."
Then without warning, Enzo snatched the man's glass of whiskey from his hand and hurled it against the wall. The shatter was deafening, Amber liquid dripping like blood down the velvet curtains. The lean man didn't flinch, though Enzo saw his jaw tighten.
Slowly, the man turned his head, meeting Enzo's glare with one of his own. "If you think breaking s glass scares me, Enzo," he said evenly, "then you're not as untouchable as people say."
A dangerous silence fell. Enzo's men were seconds from drawing their guns, but Enzo lifted a single hand to stop them. Then he laughed, low and chilling, stepping back around to face his opponent.
"You're either the dumbest bastard I've ever met," Enzo said, eyes gleaming, " or the bravest. Either way…" he leaned forward, his palms flat on the table, " .....I'll enjoy finding out which."
The lean man straightened in his chair, eyes glinting with reckless defiance.
"You think you're the only one who pulls strings in his city, Enzo?" His voice was louder now, arrogance dripping from every syllable.
"The only reason men fear you is because they haven't realized how fragile your empire really is. Without your army of dogs….." he gestured towards The Enzo's men, "....you're nothing but a man hiding behind a name."
The room went deadly silent.
Enzo's jaw ticked, his expression cold enough to freeze fire. No one spoke to him like that, not in private, not in public, not if they wanted to live past the next sunrise.
Slowly, Enzo leaned forward, his palms pressed flat against the polished oak table. His voice dropped to a low chilling whisper.
"Say that again."
The man smirked, emboldened by his own bravado.
"I said…..without then, you're annoying. And sooner or later, people will see it. You're not a good, Enzo. You bleed like the rest of us."
Henry's men shifted, awaiting the order.
But Enzo didn't shout. Didn't snarl. Instead he smiled...sharp, predatory, terrifying. He stood tall, buttoned his jacket with perfect cal mad nodded once.
The gunshot echoed through the casino like thunder, no one flinched, except the heavy set man. The lean man's smirk froze, his eyes in shock as he slumped sideways in his chair, a crimson blood spreading across his chest. Enzo hadn't even touched his gun. He didn't need to. His brother lowered the smoking barrel with mechanical precision, the act done as casually as breathing.
"He was talking so much, it was hurting my ears," his brother sighed dramatically and Enzo had to stop himself from shaking his head.
Enzo adjusted his cufflinks, his gaze sweeping across the room until it landed on the stunned face across the table.
"Send the package to his brother to serve as a reminder," he said coldly to the heavy set man who looked like he would pee his pants, " that I don't negotiate with disrespect. Or you don't leave alive."
He turned his heel, his men falling in behind him as though nothing had happened. The scent of gunpowder and blood lingered in the room, along with two truths everyone now knew.
First: Enzo's word wasn't just law. It was life and death.
Second: He had just started a war with the Feragnos.
But while the casino still hummed with whispers of Enzo's brutal display of power, across town another storm was brewing, but if a very different kind.