CHAPTER 39: Playing The Long Game.

CHAPTER 39: Playing The Long Game.

Gianna was stretched out gracefully in a comfortable lounge, with one leg crossed over the other, and a glass of champagne in hand. Her expensive Turkish robe slid off one shoulder, revealing a glimpse of a woman who looked as if she had never known stress or urgency for a day in her life. The look on her face, as she looked lazily through a notebook, was one of pure calm. Or boredom. Probably both.
That perfect serenity quickly vanished however when Rocco suddenly burst in without knocking, looking as if he had just woken from a terrible nightmare and was scared.
“Donna,” he blurted out anxiously, panting as he spoke.
Gianna didn’t even look up at him as she replied.
“Rocco,” she drawled, turning a page. “You’re wrinkling the air with your panic.”
He swallowed hard. “It’s… It’s Luca.”
That got her attention finally, and she looked up slowly at him.
“What about him?”
Rocco moved closer to her and lowered his voice completely, as if he was afraid that somebody could be listening to them.
“He got into a small scuffle with Vazquez. A meeting between them had gone wrong, and shots had been fired.”
Gianna nodded calmly as spoke, then delicately sipped her wine.
“And?”
Rocco stared at her, baffled that she wasn’t already screaming or running to gather soldiers.
“Donna… he was shot.”
Gianna paused in the middle of another sip, then hummed thoughtfully.
“Shoulder?”
Rocco’s jaw fell open. “Yes. Right shoulder. How did you…”
“Of course it was the shoulder. Luca always turns left when he senses danger. Bad habit.” She waved her hand lazily. “Continue.”
Rocco, still amazed by what she had just said, finally managed to get over the shock and continue.
“Word on the street in New York is that Vazquez may be planning for a big retaliation. His men are already whispering, gathering, and trying to rally others, and the streets are saying he wants his revenge. This could be our moment to strike, Donna.”
Gianna laughed out loud…A cold, amused, and cruel laughter that made Rocco suddenly feel dumb and lost.
“Oh, Rocco…” She sighed dramatically, setting her wine aside. “You sweet, naive child.”
Rocco frowned, then looked around to make sure that they were indeed alone. “I’m thirty eight, Donna.”
“And yet you speak like someone who is just beginning to learn what crime truly is,” Gianna said, standing up to stand in front of him. “Do you really think that the great Luca Moretti will suddenly become ‘vulnerable’ all because of one bullet to the shoulder?” She tilted her head. “No, Rocco. That is not how this world works.”
Rocco frowned. “But if Vazquez is rallying…”
“He’s rallying because he’s stupid,” Gianna interrupted coldly. “He is obviously terrified and acting in desperation.”
Rocco grunted in disbelief. “Terrified? He’s the one making threats here, Donna.”
Gianna grinned and tapped him gently on the shoulder, then began to walk towards the bucket holding her chilled bottle of champagne.
“Do you really think I don’t know what happened? Despite Luca Moretti getting shot in the shoulder, Rocco, that bastard still killed two of Vazquez’s men.” She smacked her lips after another sip. “Effortlessly, from what I hear.”
Rocco gasped. “He… he killed them?”
“Yes.”
“All by himself?”
“Yes.”
“In the same meeting?”
Gianna’s cold grin widened. “Yes. He may have walked out with a bullet in his shoulder, but that son of a bitch left Vazquez with two corpses to worry about.” She leaned in. “Do you still think that the one who was spared as a warning to others would want to start a war? No. He will run into a corner and bark loudly.” She tapped his chest. “But not all loud barking means strength, darling. Most times, it means fear.”
Rocco stared at her, completely thrown off.
“Donna… how did you even know?”
Gianna scoffed. “Please. Vazquez’s men gossip like old women when they panic, and one of them happens to owe me a favor.”
Rocco looked completely awed by his boss. “So you already knew everything… before I even came in here?”
Gianna poured herself another glass of champagne. “I already knew, Rocco. However, I still find it adorable that you rushed to inform me all the same.”
“But then…” Rocco said in confusion. “What's the plan now?”
Gianna paused and looked at him.
“Rocco,” she said softly, almost in a pitying tone. “If you’re asking me that question here, in my lounge, and at full volume, you are either stupid… or very brave.”
Rocco's face suddenly went pale. “I just…I mean…Luca being shot changes things a bit, doesn’t it?”
Gianna shook her head.
“No. It only accelerates things.”
“Things like what?” He asked again, getting even more curious.
“Everything,” she answered carefully.
Then she walked past him toward the balcony, pushing the glass doors open. The city’s evening wind blew through, caressing her hair and robe as she stepped outside.
Rocco followed, hesitating at the doorway.
“Vazquez is not the threat,” she said after a while. “He was never the threat.”
“Then who is?”
Gianna let out a cold and deadly smile.
“People only rebel when they believe the king has fallen. And Luca…” Her voice softened with a strange kind of warmth. “Luca is too strong and too dangerous. He is too feared for anyone to make a real move on him unless they actually smell weakness.”
“And can they smell weakness now?” Rocco asked hopefully.
“No,” Gianna corrected. “They think they do.”
Rocco frowned. “What’s the difference?”
“The difference,” she said, turning to face him fully, “is that they are wrong.”
Rocco paced anxiously. “Donna, if Vazquez is spreading rumors…”
“Let him spread them,” she said calmly. “Noise means nothing unless someone actually listens. And no one in their right mind will challenge Luca blindly without a proper plan, not even if he were on life support.”
Rocco growled in annoyance. “But if someone tries…”
“If someone even thinks about trying…they'll die a painful and horrible death,” Gianna told him flatly.
Rocco nodded nervously.
“Then… what do we do?”
Gianna laughed softly, almost amused by the question.
“What do we do? Nothing, my dear Rocco. Nothing”
Rocco stared at her in disbelief. “Nothing?!”
“Nothing.” She sipped her wine again. “Because everything is already unfolding exactly the way it should.”
Rocco now looked utterly lost.
“Donna… are you telling me you’re not worried at all?”
Gianna placed a hand on his cheek, in a gesture that was both soothing and unsettling.
“Luca Moretti is a storm,” she whispered calmly. “A man like him does not fall because of one bullet and one loud fool.” She dropped her hand. “The only thing we need to do… is wait.”
“For what?” Rocco asked again.
Gianna walked back inside. “For the dust to settle,” she said. “And for Vazquez to destroy himself.”
Rocco was still lost. “Destroy himself?”
“Oh yes.” Gianna lounged back on her couch and crossed her legs. “Men like him always do.”