Chapter 122: Italy’s Night Rose

After leaving Aviano Air Base, Leo drove alone to a remote little Italian town, dozens of miles away from the base.

At the end of the street stood a small bar that looked like it had been around for a long time. No sign, just a heavy oak door with vines crawling all over the frame.

Leo pushed open the door — a thick oak door with a worn brass bell hanging on it — and stepped into an underground bar tucked away in a narrow back alley.

The place had a distinctly old-school Italian mob vibe. Dim tungsten bulbs swayed overhead, and the air was thick with the smell of espresso. A few antique hunting rifles hung on rough stone walls, while an old jukebox hummed out some raspy blues jazz in the corner.

The bar was nearly empty. A handful of guys in leather jackets, covered in tattoos, sat huddled in a corner, talking in low voices.

At the bar, an Italian woman who'd been lazily swirling a martini looked up the moment Leo walked in — and her eyes lit up.

She was the kind of woman who wore her beauty loud and proud. Golden waves of hair fell loosely around her shoulders. She had on a deep V-neck red dress that hugged every curve — her full chest and slim waist left nothing to the imagination.

She clicked over to Leo on her stilettos, wine glass in hand, all swaying hips and confidence.

"Hey handsome, all by yourself?"

The blonde leaned forward just enough to let Leo get an eyeful, her voice dripping with suggestion. "You look new around here. Want me to buy you a drink? Or maybe… we go somewhere a little more private?"

But faced with the kind of woman who could make most men lose their heads in seconds, Leo just slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar. Didn't even glance at her.

A slim blue windproof lighter flicked to life.

Leo exhaled a slow curl of grey smoke. Through it, his eyes held a faint trace of amusement.

"I'd suggest you keep your distance," he said calmly. "The woman who runs this place has a short temper. She sees you standing this close to me, she's not going to be happy."

"The owner?" The blonde blinked, then laughed — a soft, flirty giggle. "Honey, I know who owns this bar. It's a bald old man, so—"

She didn't get to finish.

"He's not wrong," a voice purred from the shadows behind the liquor shelf. "I do have a bad temper."

The blonde spun around — and froze.

A tall, dark-haired woman stepped slowly out from behind the bar.

If the blonde was the flashy, obvious type, this woman was something else entirely — a black rose with poison in its veins.

Her name was Charlotte Montes.

She wore a fitted black leather bustier and a sleek long skirt slit all the way up to the hip. Her face was stunning in a mixed-heritage way — deep-set eyes, a sharp nose, and full red lips curved into just the slightest smirk. Everything about her radiated a raw, dangerous magnetism, like someone who'd spent their whole life dancing on the edge of a knife.

Charlotte didn't spare the blonde a single glance. She walked straight up to Leo, reached out with those long, slender arms, and wrapped them around his neck like she owned the place.

"Darling," she cooed, her red lips curling into a pout. "You just got to Italy, and you're already picking up strays? I might get jealous, you know."

Darling?

The blonde's face went stiff.

"I'm so sorry! I had no idea he was your man!"

Her face burning red, she forgot all about her drink and bolted for the door, heels clicking frantically across the floor until she was gone.

Leo watched her go, then wordlessly lifted Charlotte's arms off his neck.

"Drop the act," he said, flicking ash from his cigar. "Don't call me that. I'm not here for it."

He stepped around the bar counter. "Take me to the back. We need to talk."

"Heartless bastard," Charlotte muttered, giving him a look — though something in her eyes flickered with quiet pleasure.

She rolled her hips and led him through the back door of the bar, into a secluded open-air courtyard hidden from the street.

Once they were out back, Charlotte dropped the seductive routine. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey from a nearby oak barrel and poured Leo a glass.

"Alright then," she said. "What brings the great Reaper all the way out here? Don't you have Washington eating out of your hand?"

On the surface, Charlotte was just a bar owner with killer looks. But Leo knew exactly who she was.

She was one of the top three freelance assassins in the Southern European underworld. The number of politicians and mob bosses who'd died by her hand was more than most people could count.

"I need to borrow two people," Leo said. He took the glass and downed it in one go. "Name your price. I'm heading to the border between Austria and Switzerland. Back at the Air Force base, I found out the European Air Command has been compromised by a Jewish financial cartel. I don't trust US military intelligence — and I'm not using their special forces."

Charlotte's sharp eyes narrowed slightly. A dangerous smile crossed her lips.

"That area?" She tilted her head. "Sounds like you're going after Nightfall's main base."

She leaned in close, fingertips tracing slow circles on his chest. "Since you're the one asking — what's my reward? I'm all yours. But as for borrowing someone… I actually have just the right person in mind."

She turned toward the basement at the far end of the courtyard and called out: "Dino Montes! Get out here! Look who showed up!"

Heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs, and the iron door swung open.

A man ducked through the doorframe — nearly six and a half feet tall, built like a brown bear, one hand casually carrying a heavy machine gun he'd been working on. He stepped into the courtyard with the easy confidence of someone who'd never been afraid of anything in his life.

This was Dino Montes. Charlotte's older brother.

In the European underground mercenary world, he was famous as a heavy weapons specialist and an explosives fanatic.

"Leo?"

The moment Dino laid eyes on him, a huge grin broke across his bearded face. He tossed the machine gun aside without a second thought and pulled Leo into a bear hug that could've cracked ribs.

"Ha! I knew you'd make it to Europe sooner or later, man!"

Leo allowed himself a rare half-smile and knocked his fist hard against Dino's. "Good to see you, Dino. You've somehow gotten even bigger."

"Obviously!" Dino laughed, rubbing his hands together — then his expression sharpened. "I just saw the dark web intel. Somebody blew that decoy base up near the Alps. Had to be you."

After a quick catch-up, Leo laid out why he'd come.

When he said they were going after Nightfall and its commander, Mourner, something shifted in Dino's eyes. The warmth drained out, replaced by raw, bloodshot fury.

"Nightfall…" Dino's jaw tightened. He slammed his fist into the oak barrel beside him — the thing shattered to pieces. "Leo. I was going to find them myself. Three years ago in Prague, Nightfall hit a weapons convoy and ambushed my mentor. Killed him. I've been sitting on that rage ever since, waiting for my shot at Mourner's throat."

Leo studied the look on Dino's face — something just short of feral — and gave a satisfied nod.

Skills, and a personal score to settle. The perfect weapon.

He reached for the bottle on the table, refilled both glasses, and handed one to Dino.

"Then there's nothing more to say."

His eyes went cold as winter steel. He clinked his glass against Dino's.

"Let's work together. We go to Vienna. And we crush every last one of those rats."

"Hell yeah. Let's wipe out every one of those bastards." Dino threw his head back and emptied the glass.

With the plan set, the two men stood in the courtyard and started talking in low voices — weapons loadout, border crossing routes, what they'd need to get into Vienna.

They were deep in it.

Charlotte stood to the side, and her perfectly shaped brows slowly pulled together.

She'd dressed like this tonight — and these two war-obsessed lunatics were over there talking about machine guns and explosives like she wasn't even there?

Charlotte cleared her throat pointedly.

Then did it again — louder this time.

She shot Dino frantic, wide-eyed signals.

Dino, dense as ever, turned to her with genuine concern. "Charlotte, you alright? Did you catch a cold from drinking too much last night? You want me to go grab you some medicine?"

Charlotte took a breath.

"Ahem."

Dino blinked. Nothing.

"Ahem!"

Louder. And this time, she stared at him like she could bore the message directly into his skull.

It finally clicked.

Dino looked at Charlotte. Looked at Leo. His mouth twitched.

"Uh… Leo, I just remembered I've got something I need to take care of…"

He stood up, visibly awkward.

"I'll meet you at the location tomorrow with the gear. You've got my contact."

Leo nodded.

Dino practically fled the courtyard.

The old Italian courtyard fell quiet.

Just Leo and Charlotte now.

Pale moonlight filtered through the grapevines and spilled across the ground.

Charlotte settled back into her seat across from him. She stubbed out her cigarette and fixed those green eyes on him — steady, unblinking.

"Now that the third wheel is gone," she said.

She rose slightly on her toes and let her lips brush close to his ear.

"Reaper… you've borrowed two blades from me tonight." Her voice dropped low. "How exactly are you planning to pay for that?"