Sense of Betrayal

As the man's body slumped to the ground, Marco stared at the blood pooling in the rain-soaked alley. The weight of his decision crashed down on him. He had killed countless times before, but this time, something felt different.

Marco stood in the pouring rain, his face blank as he approached the target. Vito's lieutenant was a problem, a man who had been stirring up dissents. Taking him out was supposed to send a message, to prove his loyalty to Roberto. But with every step Marco took, a sense of dread tightened around him like a noose.

He found the man in a secluded alleyway, just as planned. The lieutenant didn't even have time to draw his weapon before Marco's silenced pistol did the talking. Two clean shots, and it was over.

Wiping the rain from his brow, Marco stepped away from the scene, knowing that the consequences of this act would soon come to haunt him.

Across the city, Roberto was deep in thought, sitting in his office, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The night had been long, and the weight of his decisions was pressing down on him. He had spoken to Marco earlier, but there was something in his right-hand man's voice that felt off. Roberto couldn't pinpoint it, but it gnawed at him like an itch he couldn't scratch.

Sofia was lounging on the couch behind him, watching him closely, her dark eyes tracking his every move. She knew he was troubled, and in her usual manner, she remained silent, letting him work through his thoughts. But Sofia was never truly silent, her presence always loomed large, like a whisper in the back of Roberto's mind, nudging him toward darker paths.

"I don't trust him," Roberto muttered, his voice low, as if admitting it aloud gave the thought power.

Sofia's eyebrows arched. "Marco?"

Roberto nodded, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Something's changed. He's not the same. I can feel it."

Sofia stood and crossed the room, her fingers lightly grazing his shoulder. "You've always been able to sense betrayal, Roberto. If you think he's a threat, you know what you have to do."

Her words were like honeyed poison, sweet and deadly. Roberto knew she was right, but there was a part of him that hesitated. Marco had been loyal to him for years, had stood by him through everything. But loyalty was fragile, especially in their world.

"I can't afford any more risks," Roberto said, his voice hardening with resolve.

Sofia's lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Then cut him loose before he becomes your undoing."

Roberto downed the rest of his drink in one smooth motion, the fire of the alcohol fueling the burning decision in his chest. He wouldn't wait for Marco to betray him. He would strike first.