Chapter 55 – The Ambush and the Bar Encounter (flashback part 2)
The night Alexander decided to attack the gang was shrouded in tension. From the busiest streets to the darkest alleys, the buzz that something was about to happen spread like wildfire. His men were prepared, each duly instructed to act with precision and silence.
The gang that had disrupted the business wasn't as large as it appeared, but their numbers were still significant. They spread out across different parts of the city, taking over small areas as if they were conquered territory. This irritated Alexander deeply. It wasn't just an affront; it was a clear sign that someone was testing his strength.
Dante arrived just before the operation began. The cigarette dangling from his lips lit his face with small flickers of orange as he surveyed the terrain.
"So that's it?" he murmured, staring at the warehouse taken over by the gang.
"That's right. They're huddled inside, confused, thinking they can dictate the rules of the city," Alexander replied coldly. "But today, they'll understand their mistake."
Dante let out a short, dark laugh.
"I've always liked the way you negotiate, but sometimes I think you like war even more."
Alexander didn't answer. He simply adjusted his coat and gave the signal. The attack began.
\### The Attack on the Gang
The thugs advanced in a coordinated manner. Doors were broken down, and the sound of gunfire echoed through the warehouse. The gang's screams of surprise mingled with the determination of Alexander's men. It was as if chaos had come to life inside.
Dante, armed with his trusty blade and a heavy pistol, moved among the enemies with brutal efficiency. A precise cut, a well-aimed shot—his movements were almost artistic, even though they were covered in blood.
Alexander, on the other hand, didn't need to get so dirty. His sharp mind was his true weapon. As his men and Dante advanced, he simply observed every escape route, every possibility, predicting the gang's movements as if playing chess.
"Seal off the east wing!" he shouted, spotting a group trying to escape.
Immediately, two of his men blocked the exit, and the enemies were cornered.
In just over an hour, the gang had been crushed. What remained of them were bodies sprawled on the cold ground and a few survivors being dragged away by henchmen for later interrogation.
Dante wiped the blood from the blade with a dirty rag and snorted.
"It was fast. Too fast."
Alexander narrowed his eyes.
"I agree. They weren't prepared. It was almost... easy."
"Too easy, you mean," Dante concluded, tossing the rag to the ground.
Something wasn't right. But for now, the battle had been won. Alexander decided not to prolong the tension and, after ordering his men to guard the area, left alone for a nearby bar. He needed silence... and a stiff drink.
\### The Meeting at the Bar
The bar was small, dimly lit, and filled with people seeking to forget their lives in glasses of cheap whiskey. Alexander sat at the bar, ordered a bourbon, and simply swirled the amber liquid in his glass, as if trying to find answers in the waves that formed.
He was tired. The victory didn't bring the sense of relief he expected. On the contrary, there was a strange restlessness in his chest.
It was then that the bar door opened. Helena entered. Her simple dress contrasted with the decadent atmosphere of the place, and her presence seemed to brighten the room. She hadn't seen him immediately, but when their eyes met, a small smile formed on her lips.
"You here?" she asked, approaching with a curious expression.
"Coincidence," Alexander replied, trying to sound indifferent. "Sometimes I need to... forget things."
She sat beside him, ordering a glass of wine.
"Forget... or drown out what's tormenting you?" he asked, his gaze piercing.
Alexander let out a soft laugh.
"You're good with words. Always have been."
The conversation proceeded at a surprisingly light pace. Helena shared small details of her life, trivial stories that somehow made the atmosphere less heavy. Alexander, for his part, allowed himself to relax. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't the cold, calculating leader, but just a man drinking next to a woman who intrigued him.
He leaned a little closer.
"You know, you're different from other people I know."
"Different how?" Helena arched an eyebrow.
"Like you're... real. You don't play games, you don't try to manipulate me. You just... exist. And that's rare."
Helena smiled, but before she could respond, Alexander's cell phone vibrated on the counter. He answered with a slight sigh of irritation.
\### Dante's Call
"Alexander." Dante's voice was grave on the other end. "We need to talk."
"Not now. I'm busy," Alexander replied, glancing sideways at Helena.
"No, you don't understand," Dante insisted. "That gang... was nothing. Just a puppet. There's a much larger organization behind them."
Alexander frowned, feeling the weight of Dante's words.
"And what do you mean by that?"
"I mean, the man behind all this knows who you are. And he wants to find you."
The silence that followed was suffocating. The bar around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the sound of Dante's heavy breathing and Alexander's racing heart.
He hung up without answering, took a deep breath, and turned to Helena.
"I have to go," he said bluntly.
She looked confused.
"But... weren't you going to say something?"
Alexander hesitated for a moment, but then gave a half-smile.
"Give me your number. I promise I won't disappear this time."
Helena handed him her contact information, still surprised by his sudden change in tone. Alexander tucked the number away, stood up, and straightened his coat.
"It was good to see you, Helena. But duty calls."
He left the bar, leaving behind the muffled music, the smell of alcohol, and her thoughtful gaze. Outside, the early morning wind cut like blades, and Alexander knew something bigger was approaching.
The war against the gang had only just begun. The real enemy had finally shown interest. And this time, there would be no room for error.