Page 75 of Prince of Vice

Over the heads of the dispersing crowd, I spot Charlie standing near the back, his eyes glistening with what must be happiness. He raises a shaky hand in salute, and I return the gesture, filled with gratitude for his support. But the joy I feel shatters like fragile glass when my gaze falls upon Constantino.

My brother's eyes lock onto mine, dark and dangerous. I see him look between me and then at Charlie. Fury pulses from him like an electric current, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. Without warning, he whirls around and storms out of the courtroom, each step heavy with menace. My blood runs cold; I know that we've driven him into a corner, and the consequences will be dire.

"Primo," Isabella whispers, drawing my attention back to her. Her voice is soft, but there's a determination in her eyes that speaks volumes. "We'll deal with your brother later. For now, let's just enjoy this victory."

As the courtroom empties, Charlie ambles over, his smile warm and inviting. "Congratulations, you two. Let's head back to the mansion and celebrate, huh? I'm too old for all this commotion."

"Sounds perfect," I reply, my voice steadying as the initial shock begins to wane. "We'll see you there soon."

"Looking forward to it," Charlie says with a nod before disappearing into the crowd.

As the last of the spectators filter out, Greg approaches us, his expression sheepish. I can tell he wants to say something, but I cut him off before he has the chance.

"Cut your losses and move on, Greg," I warn, my voice low and dangerous. "Otherwise, we'll create real problems for you, considering what you did to Isabella."

He looks uncomfortable, his eyes darting between us like a cornered animal. Wordlessly, he slinks away.

"Primo," Isabella murmurs, her fingers tracing patterns on my arm, "I know you want to make him pay, but please, be careful."

"Of course, Isabella," I promise, her concern settling in my chest. I may have won the battle today, but the war against my own family has only just begun.

Just as the last sound of footsteps fades away, leaving Isabella and me alone in the cavernous courtroom, an explosive sound shatters the silence. Gunshots. The air is suddenly thick with fear, screams tearing through the once-peaceful atmosphere.

"Primo!" Isabella gasps, her eyes wide and full of terror. We exchange a frantic glance before sprinting toward the exit, leaving our belongings behind.

As we burst through the heavy doors, the world outside is a chaotic blur of movement. My heart pounds violently in my chest, the adrenaline coursing through my veins like fire. And there, lying motionless on the pavement, is Charlie, a crimson stain spreading around him.

"Charlie!" I choke out, my voice barely a whisper. A storm of rage builds within me as I look up to see Constantino's car speeding off into the distance. The anger threatens to consume me whole, and I can scarcely think straight. "I'll meet you back at the mansion," I tell Isabella, my voice shaking with fury.

"Primo, stop!" she cries out, grabbing my arm. Her eyes brim with unshed tears, and my heart aches at the sight. "You can't just run off and implicate yourself in another murder. This is exactly what your brother wants."

"Isabella," I begin, but she cuts me off, her voice desperate and pleading.

"Listen to me," she insists. "He wants you to chase him, so he can lead you into more trouble. He won't make the same mistakes again, Primo. You need to think smarter than him." She swallows hard, her grip on my arm tightening. "Stay here with Charlie. Talk to the authorities. Give him the honors he deserves. We'll deal with your brother later."

Her words resonate deep within me, cutting through the red haze clouding my thoughts. I know she's right, but the urge to avenge Charlie is an almost unbearable weight on my shoulders. With a sigh, I reluctantly nod in agreement.

"Alright," I concede, my voice thick with emotion. "I'll stay."

* * *

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a muted glow across Isabella's apartment. The warmth is deceptive, a mere illusion that does little to alleviate the crushing guilt of Charlie's death bearing down on me. I find myself pacing the small space, my thoughts consumed by the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

"Primo," Isabella murmurs softly, her hand reaching out to touch my arm, halting my restless movements. "You can't keep torturing yourself like this. We need a plan."

I glance at her, eyes full of gratitude for her support. "I know. It's just...difficult," I confess, my voice faltering. "Charlie was like family. And I can't trust anyone right now."

"Except Teddy," she reminds me gently.

I nod, acknowledging the truth in her words. My phone buzzes with an incoming message, and as if summoned by our conversation, it's Teddy. He's managed to gather information on Constantino's whereabouts and intentions. Though I'm hesitant to act on anything just yet, the knowledge offers a semblance of control amidst the chaos.

"Talk to Teddy," Isabella urges. "Stay close to him. Together, we'll figure out a way to handle Constantino without causing more harm."

The day passes in a blur of anxious planning and hushed conversations, the tension between us slowly beginning to dissipate as we focus on the task at hand.

Two days later, the sky weeps as if mourning the loss alongside us. Raindrops patter against the windows, mirroring the heaviness in my heart as we prepare for Charlie's funeral. Isabella stands beside me, her expression a mix of concern and determination.

"Are you sure about going?" she asks, her fingers brushing against mine in a gesture of comfort. "It could be a trap."

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