Chapter 15 Ren
Ren
Training under Captain Russo has been… entertaining.
That is the polite word for it.
The real word is fun.
Not the wholesome kind. Not the bonding, team spirit nonsense. The kind where pushing one specific person’s buttons feels like a personal hobby. A daily goal. A small joy I didn’t know I needed.
I stand in formation, shoulders relaxed, eyes forward, posture just correct enough to avoid trouble. Captain Russo stalks the field like she owns it. Which she does. Boots crunch against gravel. Clipboard tucked under her arm. Face carved from discipline and irritation.
She hates that I don’t flinch.
She hates that I smile.
I can feel her eyes on me even when she pretends not to look.
Good.
I glance at my watch. Subtle and casual.
The second hand ticks forward.
Almost time.
Joining the army does not mean I abandon my responsibilities. It just means I get creative. I am still the Don of I Demoni del Teschio. People do not simply pause their problems because I decided to play soldier.
There are meetings waiting. Decisions that cannot wait. Men who do not like being kept waiting.
Captain Russo blows the whistle.
“All right,” she snaps. “Hydration break. Two minutes. Don’t wander.”
Recruits scatter. Some drop to the ground. Others rush for water. Complaints fill the air.
I walk straight toward her.
She notices instantly. Of course she does.
“I need to leave,” I say calmly.
Her brows pull together. “Leave?”
“Yes.”
“To where?” she asks. “We’re not done with training.”
“I have something important to attend to.”
Her jaw tightens. “What could possibly be more important than training?”
I arch a brow.
“A lot of things,” I say easily. “For example, I still have a company to run.”
She folds her arms and faces me fully now. Completely defensive, commanding and furious.
“I thought you said your company can survive without you.”
“It can,” I reply. “But something came up that needs my attention. Immediately.”
Her eyes narrow. I can practically hear the gears grinding in her head.
“Well, you’re not going anywhere,” she says. “Not until training is over. You knew what you were signing up for when you joined the army. This isn’t a place where you come and go as you like.”
She steps closer.
“Out there, you’re the city’s most eligible bachelor,” she continues. “One of the richest men in the city. You own a thriving company. But in here—”
She taps my chest with one finger.
“—in that uniform, you’re a soldier. And you need to start acting like one.”
I stare at her for a moment.
Then I sigh.
Slow and deliberate.
“I wasn’t asking for your permission, Captain Russo,” I say. “I was informing you.”
Her eyes flash in anger.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she growls. “I am your superior. You are my recruit. You need my permission to leave.”
“Not really.”
I shrug. Casual. Almost bored.
The look on her face is priceless.
Anger. Shock. Disbelief. The faint urge to murder me with her bare hands.
I take a step back.
“Goodbye, Captain Russo,” I say. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I snap a perfect salute.
Turn on my heel.
And walk away.
Behind me, I hear her shout my name.
I don’t stop.
I don’t turn.
I smile.
The moment I drive out of the base, I do not head straight home.
That would be stupid.
I take the long route. Two turns I do not need. One unnecessary stop. I keep my eyes on the mirrors. Nothing follows. Still, I do not trust it.
I pull into a crowded parking lot near a shopping complex and park the military car between two beat-up sedans. I cut the engine and sit there for a moment, listening.
Nothing.
Good.
I step out, lock it, and walk away without looking back. If there is a tracking device in that car, it can enjoy the scenery.
Across the lot, my other car waits. Dark. Clean and untouched. I slide into the driver’s seat and the difference is immediate. Familiar. Comfortable and mine.
I drive home.
By the time I pull up to the house, the gates are already open. Matteo stands outside, leaning against the railing, arms crossed. He straightens when he sees me.
He looks amused.
“How was your first day as a soldier?” he asks.
I step out of the car and toss him the keys. “Not bad.”
“That’s it?” he presses.
I shrug. “But I think I finally understand why the army has been finding it difficult to catch us. Their training drills are wack. They could use a few pointers from us.”
Matteo snorts. “That was to be expected.”
He walks beside me as we head inside.
“And Captain Russo?” he asks casually.
“What about her?” I reply, feigning innocence.
He laughs. A short, knowing sound. “Is she as good as they say?”
I pause for half a second.
Images flash through my mind. Her stance. Her focus. The way her eyes never miss a detail. The way she brought me down without hesitation.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m yet to find out.”
Matteo hums but does not push further. He knows better than to pry when I do not feel like talking.
Inside the house, the atmosphere shifts instantly.
The guys are already seated at the dining table. Conversations stop the second I step into the room. Chairs scrape back. Every single one of them stands.
“Sit,” I say simply.
They obey immediately.
I take my seat at the head of the table. Familiar. Natural. This is where I belong.
Alessandro leans forward first. “How was your first day?”
Rayhan follows quickly. “Are they suspicious of you already?”
I arch a brow and look directly at him. “If I made them suspicious on my first day, what kind of Don would that make me?”
Rayhan stiffens. “No, Don. I didn’t mean—”
“No,” I cut in. “They are not suspicious. Relax.”
“You’re right,” Rayhan says quietly, head bowed. “Sorry.”
I turn back to Alessandro. “As for your question, my first day wasn’t so bad. But like I told Matteo, their training could be better.”
Marco, ever calm, takes a sip of his drink. “Perhaps you can take over from Captain Russo and become the new Captain. Feed them wrong information. Run them in circles.”
A slow grin spreads across my face. “Where’s the fun in that?”
They all look at me now.
“Listening to the Captain make plans on how to ambush me and the organisation,” I continue, “that excites me.”
Alessandro groans and drops his head onto the table. “You’re seriously insane, Ren. And your insanity might get us killed.”
I chuckle. “Relax. I won’t let anyone die. Except maybe me.”
“That’s not comforting,” Matteo mutters.
I lean back in my chair. “Captain Russo is sharp. Too sharp to underestimate. She doesn’t trust easily. And she definitely doesn’t trust me.”
“That’s good,” Marco says. “Suspicion keeps her predictable.”
“Not her,” I reply. “She adapts.”
That gets their attention.
“She watches everything,” I continue. “She remembers everything. And she doesn’t hesitate.”
“And yet you’re still smiling,” Alessandro points out.
I smirk. “Because she hasn’t figured me out yet.”
Matteo tilts his head. “You like her.”
I scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You absolutely like her,” Matteo says. “I can see it.”
“I like challenging people,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
Rayhan clears his throat. “So what’s the plan?”
“The plan,” I say, tapping the table once, “is to stay exactly where I am.”
Marco frowns. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
Alessandro blinks. “You’re risking too much for fun.”
“For information,” I correct. “And leverage.”
“And the Captain?” Matteo asks.
I think of her again. The way she looks at me like I am a problem she has not solved yet.
“She thinks she’s in control,” I say. “That’s adorable.”
“She’s dangerous,” Marco reminds me.
“So am I.”
Silence settles over the table.
“Tomorrow,” I add, “she’ll push harder. Longer drills. Less patience. She wants to break me.”
“And will she?” Alessandro asks.
I smile slowly.
“No.”
XXXX
Later that night, I stand on the balcony alone. City lights stretch endlessly below. My phone buzzes in my hand.
A message.
Unknown number.
You don’t get to leave without permission again.
I laugh quietly.
I type back.
Watch me.
The reply comes almost instantly.
We'll see.
I grin.
Good night, Captain.
There is no response.
I tuck the phone into my pocket, eyes dark, mind sharp.
Tomorrow will be interesting.
Very interesting.
The next day dawns crisp and clear, and I already hate how awake I am.
That is not normal.
I arrive at the training field early. On purpose. Not because I am eager. Because I like control. And showing up before everyone else sends a message. It tells people I am not here to play catch up.
Captain Russo is already there.
Of course she is.
She stands in the middle of the field, hands clasped behind her back, posture sharp and unyielding. Her voice cuts through the fog and the half-awake recruits like a blade.
“Move it, people! You’re not here for a vacation!”
I slow my steps slightly as I approach, watching her work. Watching how the recruits scramble the second she raises her voice. Fear. Respect. Discipline.
She commands it effortlessly.
Interesting.
I fall into line with the others, adjusting my uniform like I belong here. Like I have always belonged here. Her eyes flick to me. Just for a second. Then away.
I grin.
She announces the day’s plan with the confidence of someone who does not doubt herself for even a moment.
“Today we’re focusing on endurance, strategy, and teamwork. No slackers. No excuses.”
Her gaze lingers on me longer than the rest.
I catch it.
“I feel inspired already, ma’am,” I say lazily.
A few recruits chuckle. They regret it instantly.
“Careful, D'Angelo,” she says coldly. “Inspiration won’t save you from the punishment laps I’m about to assign.”
I wink. “Guess I’ll warm up, then.”
She looks like she might murder me with her eyes alone.
Worth it.
The obstacle course is first. Brutal. Wet ropes. Mud pits. Walls tall enough to make grown men rethink their life choices. The recruits struggle. Slip. Curse under their breath.
I enjoy myself.
When I reach the wall, I take my time. I pull myself up slowly, deliberately. At the top, I pause and look down.
“You want me to wave a flag up here, ma’am?” I call. “Maybe build a lookout post?”
“Move it, D’Angelo!” she snaps.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say sweetly, saluting before dropping down.
Her jaw tightens.
The endurance run comes next. Five miles. Uneven terrain. Gravel. Slopes. No mercy.
I keep pace beside her. Not because I have to. Because I want to.
“You always this chipper on a death march?” she asks.
“Only when I have charming company.”
She snorts. “Charming won’t keep you from falling behind.”
I pick up speed just enough to pass her. “I’d hate to disappoint you, Captain.”
She says nothing. But I feel it. The challenge. The refusal to lose.
Good.
By midday, the recruits are barely standing. She does not care.
She introduces the team exercise. Weighted dummies. Simulated pressure. Coordination.
I get placed with two recruits who look like they might collapse if someone breathes too hard near them.
I walk beside them.
“Careful there,” I say. “Bad posture leads to regrets.”
One of them glares. “Are you going to help?”
“I am helping,” I reply. “Emotionally.”
Captain Russo storms over.
“If you don’t start pulling your weight,” she snaps, “I will personally see to it that you’re running laps until sundown.”
I lift the dummy with one arm and rest it on my shoulder.
“All right. No need to get dramatic.”
She looks at me like she is counting to ten.
Hand to hand combat comes last.
My favorite.
I make sure to lag behind. Slowly. Casually. Until I am the only one without a partner.
“Guess it’s just you and me, ma’am.”
She exhales sharply. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
We square off.
I move lazily. Deliberately slow. I let her read me. Let her think she has me figured out.
“Are you holding back?” she asks.
“Wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
She sweeps my legs. I hit the ground.
She stands over me. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
I grin. “You’re ruthless. I like it.”
She offers a hand.
I take it.
And then I pull her in, just slightly. Enough to feel her tense. Enough to feel her breath hitch.
“Careful,” I murmur. “You might start to enjoy this.”
She breaks free instantly.
“Back in line, recruit.”
Yes, Captain.
Training finally ends. The recruits scatter like survivors of a natural disaster.
I expect her to dismiss me.
She does not.
“D’Angelo,” she calls.
I stop.
“Office. Now.”
Interesting.
Her office is small. Functional. No nonsense. She closes the door behind us.
“You think this is funny,” she says.
“I think you’re very serious,” I reply.
She steps closer. “You undermine authority. You disobey orders. You walk out when you feel like it.”
“I show initiative.”
“You show arrogance.”
I shrug. “Same thing, depending on perspective.”
She stares at me. Long. Hard.
“You are not here by accident,” she says quietly.
Neither are you.
“You are hiding something,” she continues. “And I will find it.”
I smile. “I look forward to that.”
Her phone buzzes.
She glances at it. Her expression shifts.
“Get out,” she says suddenly.
“Already?” I tease.
“Now.”
I leave.
Few minutes later, my phone buzzes.
Unknown number.
Where are you right now?
I stop walking.
I type back.
Leaving the base.
Three dots appear.
Do not move.
I grin.
Too late.
I step into the parking lot.
And freeze.
Matteo stands there.
And beside him.
Captain Russo.
Her eyes flick between us.
Slow.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
“Care to explain,” she says calmly, “why your friend here just drove onto a restricted military base using a civilian vehicle?”
Matteo smiles politely.
I sigh.
This.
This is going to be fun.