The old warehouse near the Milan port groaned under the weight of time and secrets. Rusted steel beams cast jagged shadows in the moonlight, and the smell of saltwater mixed with oil and burnt rubber drifted through the night air. Inside, under flickering overhead lights, Juliet Moretti stood over a table littered with blueprints, surveillance photos, and decrypted messages. Her brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a hard line. The mission was dangerous—but it was the closest they'd gotten to Giorgio Giovanni's inner workings.
Adonis leaned against a steel pillar, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the map of the port. His hair hung slightly over his brow, damp from a run through the rain. He didn't speak, but his silence was sharp. Focused. Ready.
Juliet looked up. "There's a shipping container scheduled to leave at dawn. Based on customs records, it's listed as medical supplies. But the satellite photos show it was delivered in the middle of the night, with guards standing by it all day. That's not medical aid. It's Red Ice."
Adonis nodded once. "Giovanni's getting bold. That port was neutral ground before. If he's moving product through it now, he's paying someone off—someone big."
Juliet pushed a photo toward him. "That's where you come in."
The photo was grainy, but it showed a familiar face—Luca Renzetti, a former member of Adonis's old street crew. He now worked the docks as muscle, blending into Giovanni's operation as a low-tier smuggler.
"I can talk to Luca," Adonis said. "He owes me. He knows I kept him out of prison."
Juliet arched a brow. "You're sure he hasn't flipped?"
"No one ever flips completely," Adonis muttered. "They just lean whichever way the wind's blowing."
From the far side of the warehouse, footsteps echoed. Antonio approached with a police file under his arm, his expression unreadable. Juliet tensed, her eyes narrowing. She hadn't forgotten Adonis's suspicions about him—nor had she ignored the GPS tracker now hidden beneath Antonio's back bumper.
"I pulled port security logs for the past three weeks," Antonio said, placing them on the table. "The container showed up two nights ago. No inspection. No digital entry. Someone is clearing it by hand."
Adonis studied Antonio with cool detachment. "You know a lot for someone who claims the department is leaving you out of the loop."
Antonio's jaw clenched. "Maybe because I've been doing your job while you act like you own this investigation."
Juliet stepped between them. "That's enough. We're going in tonight. We split up: Adonis takes Luca and infiltrates from the lower dockside gate. Antonio, you and I will sweep the warehouses for signs of transport vehicles. My contact in surveillance will keep an eye from the rooftop."
Antonio looked at her, skeptical. "You're trusting him to go in alone?"
"I trust whoever gets results," she snapped. Then, after a moment's pause: "Besides, Adonis knows that port better than any of us."
She handed out burner phones, each preloaded with encrypted channels. "We meet back here at 3:00 a.m. sharp. No detours. No calls. And if anything goes wrong, we abort."
As the men turned to leave, Juliet grabbed Adonis by the wrist. "One more thing." Her voice was low, a whisper under the hum of electricity. "Don't kill anyone unless you have to."
Adonis's hazel eyes met hers. "I don't kill unless it matters."
He left without another word, rain swallowing his silhouette.
Later that night, Juliet sat in her unmarked car overlooking the docks. The entire area pulsed with quiet menace. Metal containers stood like silent sentries, and guards in dark raincoats paced lazily, smoking and laughing under their breath. She studied the layout, cross-checking it with the map in her mind.
Antonio sat beside her, tapping his foot, his energy twitchy. She caught him checking his phone twice—something she made a mental note of.
"I hope you're not texting your girlfriend," she said, voice casual but barbed.
Antonio smirked. "Why? Jealous?"
Juliet's eyes remained fixed on the container yard. "No. Just wondering what Giorgio Giovanni would think if he knew you were blowing up his operation with a police officer."
Antonio turned sharply toward her. "You think I'm the mole."
She didn't respond. Her silence was more cutting than any accusation.
After a long moment, Antonio looked away. "You've changed, Jules."
"You haven't," she said coldly.
Across the dock, a shadow moved. Juliet raised her binoculars. It was Adonis—hood up, walking with Luca, deep in conversation. He looked like he belonged there, like he'd never left.
Juliet's heart tensed. It had nothing to do with the mission. It was something else. Watching him slip into the underworld like it was second nature—watching him risk everything without blinking—it rattled her in ways she couldn't afford to feel.
Her phone buzzed once.
Adonis: Found the container. It's loaded with crates—some marked medical, others no labels. Armed guards nearby. Definitely Red Ice.
Another message followed:
Adonis: There's a ledger. Giovanni's buyers. Names. One of them is linked to your parents' case. I'm going in.
Juliet's breath caught.
Before she could respond, an explosion sounded in the distance—just one, small, controlled. But it lit the horizon in a brief orange glow.
She grabbed her gun. "It's starting."
And somewhere in the shadows, Giorgio Giovanni was watching it all unfold—knowing exactly how it would end.