Planning The Impossible
The rumble of an engine faded outside the Greco estate, tires crunching against gravel. Serena stepped through the front door first, flanked by Marco and Luca. They had barely crossed the threshold before all three of them froze mid-step.
There he was.
Alessandro Greco.
In Adriano’s house.
Not at each other’s throats. Not shouting. Not throwing punches.
Just… there.
And if that wasn’t enough of a surprise, sitting beside him was Gabriele—sharply dressed, calm, and collected, as if he weren’t the family’s enforcer of chaos from Italy.
“Okay,” Serena muttered, eyes narrowing, “either I missed a major plot twist… or this is the weirdest alternate reality I've ever walked into.”
Luca and Marco shared a look that spoke volumes without words.
Gabriele stood first and strode over, offering his hand to Luca and Marco, shaking and dapping them up. “I know we just saw each other yesterday night but I didn't get the chance to really greet you guys over gunfire. It's been too long,” he said with an easy grin.
“Yeah,” Marco muttered, still stunned. “No shit.”
Gabriele turned to Serena. “You haven’t changed,” he said with a polite bow of the head. “Still sharp as ever.”
Serena offered a slow, wary handshake. “You either. Still charming… in that unsettling way.”
Just as everyone began settling down, the doorbell rang.
Serena looked toward the door, then back at Adriano. “Are we expecting someone else?”
Alessandro stood up. “I invited someone. Thought they should be here.”
Before anyone could question him, the door opened and heavy footsteps echoed across the hallway.
Enzo walked into the room.
And the atmosphere shifted like the temperature had dropped ten degrees.
Adriano shot up from his seat, his jaw clenched. His voice came out like a blade between gritted teeth.
“What the fuck are you doing here, you traitor?”
The room fell into absolute stillness. Serena went stiff. Marco tensed beside her, his hands curling into fists. Even Luca’s posture shifted, eyes locked on Enzo with a stare that could kill.
Gabriele, clearly out of the loop, leaned toward Luca and whispered, “What the hell is going on?”
Luca whispered back, “When Alessandro came to the States and took over Adriano’s operations as per Don Raffaele’s orders, we were all given a choice—him or Adriano. Enzo picked Alessandro.”
Gabriele mouthed a silent “O,” nodding slowly as the pieces clicked.
“Adriano,” Alessandro said, stepping between them. “Please. I know things between you two are bad, but now’s not the time. We’re all here for something that’s bigger than personal shit.”
“No.” Adriano shook his head, voice sharp with restrained fury. “I don’t want him here.”
He pointed a hard finger at Enzo, who stood perfectly still.
“I’ve known that bastard since I was sixteen. We trained and fought together in back in Italy for years until Papà sent me here to build my own crew, Enzo came with me along with Luca, Marco and Serena. I trusted him like blood. Treated him like family.”
Adriano’s voice cracked for just a second before hardening again.
“And when everything went sideways… he left. Just walked away. Picked you.”
His gaze darkened. “If a man who's fought alongside you and bled with you can just turn his back on you when things get tough… then he can stab you in the back just to save his own damn skin. I don’t want him near me because I might just kill the son of a bitch.”
Gabriele stepped forward. “Just think about it, Adriano. We’re heading into a world of polished lies, elite criminals, and cutthroat deals. We need someone who knows how to maneuver that space. Enzo’s always been the best when it comes to negotiating and reading people. That’s what this mission is going to need.”
Enzo, silent until now, finally spoke.
“I should probably go,” he said, his voice low and measured.
“Yeah,” Adriano snapped. “Get the fuck out before I do something I won’t regret.”
Enzo nodded, but he didn’t move to the door. Instead, he crossed the distance between them—and dropped to both knees.
Gasps rippled through the room.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
His voice didn’t tremble, but the weight behind it was undeniable.
“Not just to you,” he added, turning to Luca, Serena, and Marco. “But to all of you. I didn’t just see you as colleagues. You were my family and that’s never changed.”
He looked back at Adriano.
“Walking away from you? That was the hardest decision I’ve ever made. I thought I was doing what I had to do, you know? But I’ve felt like shit ever since. So yeah, I’m a traitor. If you want to slap me, punch me or beat me to an inch of my life then do it. I’ll happily take it.”
Adriano stared at him, jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists.
Then… he ran a hand through his hair and let out a long, frustrated sigh.
“Get up,” he muttered. “But I still haven’t forgiven you.”
Enzo stood slowly.
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Alessandro clapped his hands once. “Well then… now that that’s out of the way, let’s get to business, shall we?”
He pulled out his phone, tapping to play the recorded call with Don Raffaele.
The room listened in silence. Every detail of the Villa Cielo Nero. The elite security. The underground ballroom. The auction system, the biometric encryption, the two-week countdown.
When the recording ended, it was Serena who spoke first.
“All of this is great… but how the hell are we going to get an invitation? If The Gilded Veil chooses their people in secret, and each invite is locked to a person’s body, we’re screwed.”
Gabriele nodded. “We were asking the same thing before you got here.”
Enzo rubbed his jaw, then said, “What I’m about to suggest is easier said than done—but it’s our best shot. We find someone who’s been invited. Someone who’s already been chosen by The Gilded Veil.”
“And then what?” Luca asked. “Ask them nicely for their eyeball?”
Enzo shrugged. “We just need one. Once we find one of them, Serena can do her thing.”
“That’s a solid lead,” Marco said. “But where do we even start?”
Adriano’s eyes lit up suddenly. “Serena.”
She looked at him, curious. “Hm?”
He turned to face her. “Remember we still have that flash drive with all the info we stole from Crown Federal Bank when we pulled that heist.”
Marco let out a low whistle. “That was one hell of a heist.”
Adriano waved him off. “Not the point. That bank held accounts for La Rosa Nera, corrupt politicians, shady CEOs, celebrities—all of them. Go through the data. See if any of those accounts have made any transactions with accounts tied to La Rosa Nera.”
Serena’s eyes gleamed. “That’s… actually genius. I didn’t even think of that.”
Alessandro chuckled. “Wait—hold on.” He pointed to Diamond. “Is that the same flash drive you stole from La Fortezza?”
Diamond raised her brows and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yes. And?”
Alessandro laughed. “Damn. You’re really good at lying to and deceiving people. That kind of talent might come in handy for this mission.”
Diamond looked at him. “Really?”
“No,” Adriano snapped. “This mission is way too dangerous.”
Diamond crossed her arms. “You don’t speak for me. If I want to be part of this, I will be part of this.”
Gabriele laughed. “I like her. She’s got fire. Doesn’t just roll over when Adriano barks an order.”
Adriano groaned, rubbing his face. “I hate it. But it’s one of the reasons I like her.”
Diamond grinned, flipping her hair with pride.
Adriano stood up. “I’ll go get the flash drive. It’s in the safe upstairs.”
But when he used his bad shoulder to push off the couch, pain lanced through him. He grimaced, nearly doubling over.
“Shit—” Diamond shot up beside him. “Babe, are you okay? Let me come with you—”
“No. It’s fine,” he said, waving her off through clenched teeth.
He disappeared up the stairs.
Luca and Marco meandered toward the bar. Gabriele followed, casually grabbing a bottle of whiskey. Serena opened her laptop and began booting it up.
Diamond turned and slipped away toward the hallway.
She entered the bathroom, closed the door, and gripped the edge of the sink. Her reflection stared back at her, those hazel eyes filled with conflict.
Her mind was still racing.
She had leaked that dinner plan to her people. And yet—La Rosa Nera showed up instead.
It didn’t add up.
“Was it a coincidence?” she whispered out loud. “Am I just overthinking or is someone feeding them information?”
She stared harder.
“Something smells fishy. And I’m going to find out what it is.”
Then the door creaked open and shut behind her.
She looked up into the mirror and saw him leaning casually against the door, arms crossed.
Alessandro Greco.