Page 47 of Mafia Kingdom

"Sasha." Her name feels right on my tongue.

She pauses, her hand on the banister, and looks back at me.

"Thank you," I say, meaning it more than she knows. "For tonight."

Her expression softens, just slightly. "I kept my end of the bargain. That's all."

I study her, wondering if she really believes that, if she truly doesn't feel the pull between us that's been there for years."Get some rest. I have to go out again, but I'll be back before dawn."

Her eyes widen slightly. "More work?"

I nod.

"Be careful," she says softly, and the genuine concern in her voice catches me off guard.

Something tight uncurls in my chest. "Lock your door," I reply. "Don't open it for anyone but me."

She nods, and for a moment, we simply look at each other, the air between us charged with unspoken tension. Then she turns and heads upstairs, the emerald dress flowing behind her like a shadow.

I stand there for a long moment, fighting the urge to follow her. The anonymous caller's warning echoes in my mind: "Tonight." The shipment can't wait, no matter how much I might want to stay.

I check my gun, call Tony to confirm the teams are in position, and head out into the night.

I arrive to find Lucas and his men already in position, taking cover behind shipping containers. The night is thick with fog rolling in from the water, visibility reduced to mere meters—perfect conditions for an ambush.

"Three teams," I tell Lucas as I crouch beside him, checking my weapon. "I want eyes on every approach before we move on the shipment."

“I’ve been trying to call you,” Lucas remarks as he double-checks hisgun.

“I had a senator to sway,” I answer.

He nods, face grim in the dim light. Whatever else he was going to say dies on his tongue and reverts back to the problem at hand. " Tony's men are covering the north side, mine are on the west. Your crew just arrived at the east entrance."

I scan the area; the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up. Something feels off. The docks are too quiet; the usual ambient sounds of water lapping against the piers and distant machinery are replaced by an unnatural stillness.

"It's a setup," I murmur, more to myself than to Lucas.

He turns to me, brow furrowed. "What?" I’m about to explain to him about the anonymous call, but before I can respond, the night erupts in gunfire. Muzzle flashes illuminate the fog in strobing bursts, bullets tearing into the container above our heads.

"Down!" I shout, pushing Lucas to the ground as the air around us becomes a hailstorm of lead.

We scramble for better cover, the concrete scraping my palms as I army-crawl behind a low concrete barrier.

"Tony!" I yell into my radio. "Status!"

His voice comes back, nearly drowned out by gunfire. "Pinned down on the north side! They've got us flanked!"

I curse, calculating our options. The shipment is sitting in a warehouse on the east side of the docks—exactly where the heaviest fire is coming from.

"Lucas, hold position," I order. "I'm taking my team around to flank them."

His hand shoots out, grabbing my arm. "That's suicide, Marco."

"Got a better idea?" I challenge, already signaling to my men.

Five of my most trusted guys gather around me, faces tense but determined. I outline a quick plan—we'll use the mazeof shipping containers to circle behind our attackers, taking them by surprise.

"On my mark," I say, checking my gun one last time. "Three, two, one—move!"

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