Chapter Twelve: A Dance of Daggers

The weight of the call fills the room with tension as it ends. Vincenzo is excited, surprised, and finds this fascinating. "Alessia Vitore," he mutters.

"Vitore?" Marco cuts in.

Vincenzo turns to Marco, smiling. "Things are getting more interesting."

Buzz—his phone comes alive. A message:

Club Serene. Midnight. Alone.

He chuckles. "Cute."

Marco looks at him with concern. Always fascinated by the dangerous stuff, he thinks to himself. "What if this is a trap?" he asks, worried.

"It isn't," Vincenzo says with certainty—difficult to understand.

"..But—" Marco tries to add, obviously uneasy.

"Don't worry, Marco. I can feel it. This is a chance," Vincenzo assures him.

"A chance?" Marco asks, confused.

"Yeah, a big one," Vincenzo adds.

He looks at Marco, who is visibly worried. A warmth spreads through him—he's grateful for Marco's concern.

"Okay…" Marco sighs. "I'm not going to take this lightly."

He taps Marco's shoulder. "Find out what's up with the location. Traps and all."

"Yes, Boss," Marco replies, smiling. "I'll get to it immediately."

"Ah, and tell Theo to keep digging. Inform me the moment he finds something fun," Vincenzo adds.

"On that…" Marco hesitates.

"What's up? Any problems?" Vincenzo asks.

"No, he's just been complaining about not getting enough time for himself lately. Says he needs his rest," Marco answers.

"Hah…" Vincenzo sighs. "Tell him I'll help him pick his next stock investment portfolio if he finds anything interesting."

A smirk forms on his lips. "I smell something fun… extremely fun."

Vincenzo chuckles.

---

By 11:30, Marco had finished his investigation of the address. He knocks on the door.

"Boss," he calls out to announce his presence.

"Ah, come in," Vincenzo says, adjusting the cufflinks on his suit.

"A suit?" Theo scoffs as he follows behind Marco. "For real?" He chuckles.

Marco glares at him.

"What's wrong with the suit?" Vincenzo asks, confused.

"Well, nothing… it just screams, Ah, I'm not used to this setting, take advantage of me," Theo adds mockingly.

Marco growls at him. "It looks good on you, Boss. Never mind him," he adds.

"Hmm… so, what do you suggest I wear? I don't want to be late," Vincenzo asks.

"Hmmm…" Theo hums, rummaging through a drawer filled with clothes.

"Why not wear these?" He holds up a deep black luxury satin button-up and a tailored dress pant. "And this…" he adds, picking up a pair of loafers.

"Outrageous," Marco cuts in, dragging the clothes and trying to put them back.

"Wait…" Vincenzo motions for Marco to stop as he turns to the mirror to assess his fit.

"Let's have those instead," he says.

"Yes! That's what I'm talking about," Theo says, chuckling.

"What about the location?" Vincenzo turns to Marco as he unbuttons his suit to change into what Theo suggested.

"Clean," Marco replies. "No traps, no men… just clean."

"Perhaps too clean," he adds.

"It just means the little princess has started making plans for her future," Vincenzo smirks.

This will be a good night.

---

The deep bass of the music pulses through Club Serene, a luxurious lounge bathed in a mix of dim gold and violet lighting. The air is thick with expensive cologne, laughter, and the clinking of glasses.

Vincenzo steps inside, his movements unhurried, yet every stride holds a quiet authority. Dressed in a black satin button-up and tailored dress pants, he blends in, yet stands out—controlled power wrapped in effortless finesse.

His sharp gaze scans the room, taking in the figures draped in silk and sin, the high-rollers indulging in drinks and whispered deals. But none of them matter.

He's here for one person.

Then, he sees her.

Alessia Vitore sits in the VIP section, legs crossed, one arm draped over the back of the velvet couch. A glass of whiskey rests between her fingers, the amber liquid catching the club's flickering lights. Unlike the other women in the club, she's not dressed to impress—but that's precisely what makes her stand out. She wears confidence like an accessory, her presence commanding attention.

Their eyes meet.

For a fraction of a second, the world around them fades. The music, the crowd—it all dulls in comparison to the silent exchange passing between them.

Vincenzo smirks. He likes this already.

Without hesitation, he moves toward her, his pace neither rushed nor hesitant. The men stationed around the VIP section take note but don't interfere. She must have told them not to.

As he reaches her, Alessia tilts her head slightly. "You're punctual," she remarks, her voice smooth but with an edge, like silk wrapped around a blade.

Vincenzo shrugs, sliding into the seat across from her. "I value good invitations."

"And I was expecting a suit," she chuckles. "I guess I was wrong." She takes a slow sip of her drink before setting it down. "You don't seem surprised to see me."

"You don't seem surprised that I came."

A slow smile curves her lips. "Fair point."

A waiter approaches, but before he can speak, Vincenzo gestures dismissively. "Whiskey. Neat." The waiter nods and vanishes into the crowd.

Alessia leans forward slightly, resting her elbow on the table. "I'll be direct. You've pissed off Vitore. You're being watched more than you think, Moretti, and…" She pauses.

Vincenzo swirls the whiskey in his newly placed glass before taking a sip. "And?"

"And I like to know the pieces on the board before the game begins."

Vincenzo smirks. "You're assuming I'm a piece to be played."

Alessia's expression remains unreadable, but there's amusement in her eyes. "Aren't we all?"

A tense silence settles between them. It's not uncomfortable—it's charged. A battle of words and will, laced with unspoken threats and a curiosity neither of them can quite ignore.

"You reached out to me," Vincenzo finally says. "Which means you're either reckless or confident. Tell me, Alessia, which is it?"

She chuckles, tapping her fingers against her glass. "Maybe I just enjoy a challenge."

Vincenzo studies her for a moment before leaning back. "Good. It would be boring otherwise."

"So, why am I here, Alessia?" Vincenzo sits upright, looking at her. "You wouldn't call me out here, to a place like this, for just a drink."

"Hmm…" She smiles as she sets the glass on the table. "As sharp as I've heard." She chuckles. "Why don't we forge a… friendship, if you may call it that?"

"A friendship?" Vincenzo asks, surprised. "Friendships are built on trust."

"Trust… yes," Alessia muses, leaning in slightly. "We could build that up, couldn't we?" she says, smiling.

Vincenzo looks at her, fascinated. "And what do I gain from this friendship?"

"An ally," Alessia answers confidently.

Vincenzo smiles, enjoying her boldness. "I'll show you why I'm the best ally you could have right now," she adds.

"What's your motive?" Vincenzo asks.

For a split second, something shifts in her expression. He catches it.

"I accept," he says, smiling. "Your friendship… I accept." He takes a sip of his drink.

Alessia smiles. "I look forward to working together," she says, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her glass.

Just then, her phone vibrates against the table. She glances down, reading the message. Her lips twitch, then she looks back at him, amused.

"Ah…" she exhales, almost playfully. "I guess I'm joining the game." She meets his gaze, tilting her head. "Let's be nice to each other, shall we?"

Vincenzo lifts his glass, smirking. "Let's have a good game."

Their glasses clink.

The first move has been made.