They didn't speak much the next day.
Nico spent the morning cleaning his guns at the kitchen table, while Isabella sat on the couch, reviewing the files he'd given her. Her silence wasn't cold-it was calculating.
But when she looked up, there was something new in her eyes.
Resolve.
"We hit the D'Angelo port tonight, "She said.
Nico paused mid-assembly. "The docks? That's not just a message, that's a declaration of war".
"I'm done sending warnings," Isabella said. "My brother's death wasn't just a family affair. They all had a hand in it-D'Angelo, Ricci, maybe even Ivanov. The docks are where their shipments come in. We take that, we choke their operations."
Nico nodded slowly, then stood and holstered his pistol.
"I'll pull the crew."
"No," Isabella said, "We do this ourselves. just you and me."
A beat.
"You're sure?"
She met his gaze.
"I don't trust anyone else".
MIDNIGHT
The docks were soaked in shadows and salt.
Shipping containers loomed like monoliths, stacked high and wide. Cranes creaked overhead. a lone guard smoked near a control booth, unaware that the wind had changed-and death was coming with it.
Nico moved like a phantom, disabling the first two lookouts with silent precision. Isabella followed, her Glock steady in both hands. She wasn't a soldier- but she'd learned fast.
Near the loading ramp, she whispered, "Two guards. Left and right. you take left."
He nodded, and in seconds, they were down.
But then-
A click echoed behind them.
"Drop the gun," a voice barked.
They turned slowly.
Six armed men emerged from behind a row of crates, rifles aimed. At the center of them stood a man in a tailored grey coat, white-blond hair slicked back, face like carved ice.
Sergei Ivanov.
He smiled, cruel and elegant.
"Miss Moretti. Mr. DeLuca. How lovely of you to visit my docks."
Nico's hand twitched near his holster.
Sergei noticed.
"Ah, ah," he said. "I wouldn't. I'd hate tp put a bullet through that perfect face."
Isabella stepped forward, calm despite the odds. "Funny. I thought these docks belonged to D'Angelo".
"They did", Sergei said, pacing. "But your little resurrection stirred the waters. When empires collapse, scavengers move fast."
She glared at him. "So you killed Matteo too?"
He paused.
"No, "he said honestly. "But i was offered the job. I just didn't bid high enough."
Nico growled. "Who did?"
Sergei tilted his head.
"Oh, I think you already know."
Then everything happened fast.
A flash. A gunshot. Smoke.
Nico tackled Isabella behind a crate as bullets ripped through the air. Sergei vanished into the chaos, his man scattering.
Nico fired back with ruthless precision- three shots, three kills.
Isabella pulled her blade and slit the throat of a guard who get too close.
When it was over, the docks were quiet again-except for one man, wounded and gasping by a crate.
Nico knelt beside him.
"Who gave the order?" he demanded.
The man coughed blood.
"Y-Your father, "he rasped staring at Isabella.
"Vittorio Moretti. it was his call."
Isabella stood frozen, blood on her hands, the words slicing deeper than any blade.
Nico rose, silent.
He didn't say i'm sorry.
He didn't need to.
He just stepped beside he and said:
"What now?"
She looked at the fire in the distance.
And whispered:
"Now we bury my father".