Chapter Ninty Four - Blood in the Water
( Sienna's POV )
The city woke under the taste of gunpowder.
Rainwater sluiced through the gutters, carrying fragments of ash and shell casings toward the drains. Dawn turned the skyline into jagged silver, the kind of light that made every wound visible. The storm had cleaned the streets, but not the sins that lingered on them.
Sienna hadn’t slept. She couldn’t.
She sat in the warehouse that now doubled as their command center, an old shipping depot with broken windows and the faint smell of oil and steel. Maps were scattered across the table, still damp from the rain, marked with circles, arrows, and names crossed out in red. Every mark was a kill. Every line was a path they’d taken through fire.
Across from her, Marco sat bound to a chair, wrists cut raw against the restraints. He hadn’t said a word since being dragged in. The others avoided looking at him; betrayal carried a stench that no one wanted to breathe in.
Luca leaned against a crate, watching in silence. His side still hurt, she could see the tension in his jaw every time he shifted, but he wouldn’t admit weakness. He never did.
“You should rest,” he murmured finally. “You’ve been up all night.”
“So have you,” she countered.
“Yeah, but I’m the one bleeding.”
She glanced up, half-smirking. “That’s your own fault.”
He almost smiled. Almost. “You did well last night, Sienna. Better than I expected.”
Her gaze flicked back to Marco. “He didn’t.”
Luca followed her eyes, his expression darkening. “You plan to kill him?”
“I plan to know why first.” She stood, moving to stand in front of Marco. Her boots echoed in the silence. “You had one job. Follow orders. Instead, you let Ferrano’s men escape and nearly got us all killed. So here’s your one chance to make sense of it.”
Marco lifted his head. His face was bruised, one eye swollen nearly shut. He swallowed hard. “You don’t understand. Ferrano’s got people everywhere. He said he’d come for my family if I didn’t....”
Sienna cut him off with a sharp motion. “Your family isn’t my problem. Your loyalty was.”
His breath came fast. “He knows things, about you. About Luca. About the safehouses you use. He’s not done.”
The words made Luca stiffen. “What things?”
Marco hesitated. His eyes darted between them. “He said there’s someone feeding him from inside your circle. Someone high enough to know every move you make.”
Sienna’s chest tightened. The idea wasn’t new, she’d suspected it for weeks, but hearing it spoken aloud made the air feel colder.
Luca pushed off the crate, his voice a low growl. “You’re saying there’s another leak? That this isn’t over?”
Marco nodded. “Ferrano said the mole reports directly to him. You think you’ve cut off his supply lines, but he’s already rebuilding. You didn’t destroy him. You just made him angry.”
Sienna turned away, pacing. Her reflection in the cracked glass looked like a ghost, half-shadow, half-fire. “And how exactly do you know all this?”
Marco’s voice dropped. “Because Ferrano told me to watch you. To see how far you’d go. To see if you’d kill one of your own.”
Her hand froze midair. The implication was clear.
“He wanted to know if you’d become like him,” Marco whispered. “If you’d cross that line.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.
Finally, Luca spoke, his voice low. “And?”
Marco’s gaze flickered up to Sienna, eyes glistening. “You haven’t yet.”
Sienna stepped closer until her shadow covered him completely. “You’re right. I haven’t.” Her voice was soft, deadly calm. “But you’re going to show me exactly where Ferrano is rebuilding, or that’s going to change.”
He swallowed, nodding quickly. “Fine. There’s a warehouse on the south pier. He’s been moving shipments there under another name, import company called Rialto Freight. The crates look empty, but they’re not.”
“What’s in them?” Luca asked.
“Guns. Chemicals. And… bodies.”
The last word made both Sienna and Luca still.
“Bodies?” Luca echoed.
Marco’s voice shook. “He’s sending a message. To anyone who crossed him. Some of those people used to work for you.”
Sienna felt the blood drain from her face. Ferrano wasn’t rebuilding, he was retaliating.
She turned to Luca. “We move tonight.”
Luca frowned. “You’re exhausted. And this could be a trap.”
“Of course it’s a trap,” she snapped. “But it’s one we can’t afford to ignore.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Then we do it my way. No full squad this time. Just us and a small team. Quiet. Controlled.”
Sienna hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. But I lead.”
“You always do,” Luca said, almost smiling.
By dusk, the city had slipped back into darkness.
The south pier stretched out like a spine of rust and rot, the air thick with salt and diesel. The warehouse loomed ahead, RIALTO FREIGHT painted in peeling white letters across corrugated steel. Only a handful of lights burned inside, flickering weakly.
Sienna crouched behind a stack of crates, headset crackling softly. “Positions.”
Two voices responded, Damon and Eli, the only men she trusted completely now.
Luca knelt beside her, checking his weapon, his breath controlled despite the pain in his side. “You sure you want to do this yourself?”
She looked at him, eyes steady. “If Ferrano’s in there, I want him to see me coming.”
He chuckled dryly. “You’ve got his attention, believe me.”
They moved. Silent. Precise.
The metal door creaked open under Sienna’s gloved hand. Inside, the air was colder, carrying the faint smell of bleach and something copper underneath. The kind of smell that never left a place built on secrets.
Rows of crates lined the walls, stenciled with codes. One was cracked open, the wood splintered. Sienna’s flashlight caught a glimpse of pale skin.
Bodies. Four of them. Bound. Eyes open.
“Jesus,” Damon muttered.
Sienna crouched, studying one face, recognizing the tattoo on his wrist. He’d been one of theirs.
Luca’s voice was tight. “This isn’t a warehouse. It’s a message.”
She straightened, jaw tightening. “Then I’ll send one back.”
But before she could move, a voice echoed through the dark.
“Already doing that, sweetheart.”
Ferrano.
He stepped from the shadows with two men flanking him, gun raised, that same smug smile carved across his face. “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, Sienna. Impressive, really. Luca always said you had potential.”
Luca stiffened beside her. “You’re a dead man, Ferrano.”
Ferrano’s grin widened. “Maybe. But not tonight.” He gestured to Marco, who stumbled forward, unbound, alive, a gun in his shaking hand. “See, I told you she’d come. Loyalty’s funny, isn’t it?”
Sienna’s stomach turned cold. “You.... ”
Marco’s hands trembled. “I didn’t want to. He, he made me....”
But Ferrano cut him off with a single shot. Marco collapsed, blood pooling instantly beneath him.
“Unreliable,” Ferrano said lightly. “Now. Shall we talk business?”
Gunfire erupted.
Sienna dove behind cover, firing back, shouting orders. Damon dropped two of Ferrano’s men before taking a hit to the shoulder. Luca advanced, limping but deadly, every shot deliberate.
Ferrano retreated toward the back exit, firing wild. Sienna chased him through the maze of crates, adrenaline flooding her veins.
When she caught him, it was on the loading dock, rain pouring again in hard, slanted sheets. Ferrano turned, gun raised, but she was faster.
The shot hit his leg, dropping him. He laughed even as he fell. “You think this ends with me?”
Sienna stepped closer, muzzle leveled at his chest. “It ends when I say it does.”
He smiled through the pain. “Then you better be ready for what comes next. Because I wasn’t the only one watching you tonight.”
She hesitated, but only for a breath. Then she pulled the trigger.
Ferrano slumped, the rain washing the blood from his lips.
Behind her, Luca appeared, soaked and pale but still standing. “You did it.”
Sienna looked down at the body. “No,” she said quietly. “I started it.”
Far off, sirens wailed across the city. The storm raged on.
And in the flicker of lightning, Sienna realized the truth. Ferrano was right. Someone else had been watching.
Someone inside their ranks was still feeding the fire.
And the next war was already coming.