Rocco's grip was like iron, cold, unyielding, the kind of strength that came from years of crushing enemies without blinking. His smile didn't waver, but his eyes told a different story. They were sharp, calculating, already peeling Luca apart layer by layer.
"You've got guts kid," Rocco murmured, voice low enough so only they could hear. "I'll give you that."
Luca didn't pull away. He let the music swirl around them, the dancers spinning like ghosts in the periphery. The briefcase still sat at Rocco's feet. One move and this would turn into a bloodbath.
But Luca had planned for that.
He met Rocco's gaze head-on. "You knew I'd come."
Rocco chuckled softly, releasing his wrist. "Of course I did. You're Anton's blood. And your father's son. Sentimentality is a weakness… but it's also predictable."
Luca straightened, adjusting his mask slightly. "Then why let me get this close?"
Rocco leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine as if they were having a casual conversation over cigars. "Because I wanted to see what kind of man you are."
Across the ballroom, Vince Lanza stood motionless, watching every second unfold. Luca caught the flicker in his eyes, anticipation. Waiting for the signal.
Rocco continued, voice smooth as silk. "You remind me of him, you know. Your grandfather. Same fire. Same spirit. Same need to prove something."
Luca's jaw tightened. "And what happened to him?"
Rocco tilted his head slightly. "You already know the answer to that."
Luca took a slow step forward. "Tell me anyway."
A beat passed. Then Rocco exhaled through his nose, setting his glass down. "He got greedy. Thought he could hold onto power forever. But power isn't something you keep, it's something you take. Again and again."
Luca's fingers twitched near his side, brushing against the concealed blade in his jacket.
Rocco noticed. Smiled wider.
"Go ahead," he said softly. "Try it. I dare you"
The tension snapped like a taut wire.
Vince moved first, stepping forward with one hand reaching beneath his coat. Across the room, other men reacted, hands shifting toward hidden weapons.
But before any gun could clear leather...
A gunshot cracked through the ballroom.
One shot.
From above.
The chandelier lights flickered violently.
Chaos erupted.
People screamed, scattering like leaves in the wind. A woman collapsed near the stage, clutching her shoulder. Smoke curled from the shattered champagne fountain as guests dove under tables.
In the confusion, Luca lunged.
He grabbed the briefcase and twisted, shoving Rocco back against the table. Glass shattered. Wine spilled like blood across white linen.
Vince roared, drawing his weapon, but Enzo was already on him, slamming a waiter's tray into his face. The impact sent Vince staggering backward into the crowd.
Luca didn't waste time.
He turned and ran, briefcase clutched tight, weaving through the panicked masses. Shots rang out behind him, bullets ricocheted off marble pillars, shattered mirrors, tore through curtains.
He reached the far end of the ballroom just as a masked figure blocked his path.
The silver-masked woman.
She held up a gloved hand. "This way."
Luca hesitated for half a second, then followed.
They slipped through a narrow service hallway, footsteps echoing behind them. The woman led him past storage rooms, kitchen doors, and finally through a maintenance stairwell that smelled of grease and old smoke.
Behind them, Enzo emerged from the chaos, breathing hard. "Damn kid, you really know how to start a party."
Luca kept moving. "Did you get anything?"
Enzo tapped his earpiece. "Got the whole exchange recorded. And more."
Luca glanced at the briefcase. "Let's hope it's worth dying for."
The woman stopped at a locked door marked Employees Only. She pulled a key from her sleeve and unlocked it. Beyond it was a loading dock, slick with rain, where a black van idled with its engine running.
She turned to Luca. "Open it now."
Luca did.
Inside were files, photographs, encrypted drives, and a single envelope addressed in familiar handwriting.
To my grandson.
His breath caught.
The woman touched his arm gently. "Your grandfather left this for you. For when the time was right."
Luca looked at her. "Who are you?"
She smiled faintly. "Someone who once loved him."
Then she vanished into the storm.
Above them, sirens wailed.
The war had officially begun.