25
LEVI
I don’t know what has got into Sera but it’s like she has finally found her shoes. She marches us towards the cars, barking orders about wanting answers from the leader of The Vultures. Giovanni is already posted up in the driver’s seat awaiting Bianchi’s next command, while I slide into the passenger seat.
We’ve moved the dead gang member to the twins’ trunk, wrapped in plastic sheeting to prevent the smell of decay from setting in. The alive member will remain that way, heavily guarded by some of Greco’s men in the basement.
I cast a glance at Sera in the back seat, authority rolling off her in powerful waves.
I think I like this side of Bianchi.
“Ready?” she quizzes.
Giovanni nods silently, always silent, and then we make our way to the Marina.
The sun is still shining down on us. It’s midday, and with the sun so high in the sky, I have to switch the air conditioning on just to feel some semblance of cool. Secretly, I want to roll the window down and revel in the sea breeze, but that’s not an option right now. The bulletproof glass is the only thing protecting us and I’d be a fool to not anticipate something may go down.
I’m not fully on board with the new plan. Sera made it clear there was no room for disagreement, though. She wants answers, and she wants to face The Vultures head on. In any other circumstance, I would be reveling in this new persona Serafina has taken on, but I’m not so sure how well thought out this plan is.
When I tried to voice my opinion earlier, I was shot down. So I know there’s no room for negotiation right now. Bianchi has her mind set on this, and she’s not backing down.
After a tense fifteen minutes of uncomfortable silence, Giovanni parks us up in the parking lot behind a dingy bar. The Vulture’s emblem is graffitied across the outside wall, acting as a warning for those approaching. And if that wasn’t enough of a sign that danger lies inside, the guards standing outside would definitely alert you to being in the wrong place.
Once the convoy has congregated, Sera slips out of the car. She slides her sunglasses onto her face, conveying the image of a badass leader about to take down the enemy.
We surround her like a shield. The twins check their weapons, ready to follow the fight if needed, but Sera waves them off. “I don’t want this to be a shoot out.”
“We’ve just killed one of his men, and you’re expecting them not to shoot you?” Luca retorts.
“No,” she snaps, pinning him with a glare. “I’m expecting you to follow fucking orders! Unless I say so, keep that fucking thing hidden.”
Silence falls over all of us. Luca is locked in a staring contest with Sera, like he’s challenging her. He’s always challenging her. While his argument makes sense, this is Sera’s decision and she has more than enough protection if anything goes awry. I have no doubt Luca won’t hesitate to protect her, but I feel like there’s more to his protest than just her safety.
With one last glance, Sera huffs and storms away from the group with Giovanni beside her. She’s marching like a woman on a mission. A woman out for blood, if it comes down to it.
“What did you do to piss her off?” I mutter.
Luca huffs, his nostril flaring as he shoots me a look not to mess him. He might come across as the moody asshole with nothing to lose, but he’s already shown more cards than a bad poker player. He definitely cares for Sera, more than an ally should, and I’m not sure if we’re becoming rivals rather than friends. I’m not about to let years of waiting go to waste, though. I’ll fight for Sera.
With a dismissive grunt, I catch up with Sera and Giovanni. Some of Greco’s men stay beside the twins’ car, while the rest post up outside of the other.
We enter with the sun on our backs, the view of the Marina obscured as we approach a bearded man gulping back a bottle of beer. He doesn’t even acknowledge us as we walk in, but the men slouched back on the tattered couch in the corner and the ones who were playing pool have now turned their attention to us. Guns and all.
The room stinks of cheap beer and stale piss, a signature scent that only a place like this would hold. Sera marches forward, ignoring the stench that peels through our nostrils. If she’s disgusted by this place, she makes no attempt to show it. In fact, she looks fucking fierce. She’s wearing her role like armor and nothing can pierce that right now.
“If it isn’t the princess of the Bay,” the bearded guy, which I’m assuming is the new leader of the gang, drawls with his lips pressed to the rim of his beer bottle. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Sera smiles, her power and authority dripping from her. Her all black suit gives her the same no-nonsense approach, her red bottom heels providing her the perfect height to look down on her subject like a fucking queen. “I’ve been wondering the same thing, Ezekiel,” she comments like a long lost friend, perching on the stool beside the man. “You’ve been following me.”
“Clever girl,” he comments.
“I want it to stop. ”
Zeke laughs, cocking an incredulous brow at her. “No can do, Princess. I have orders.”
But Sera isn’t about to back down. She crosses her legs, the toe of heel tapping rhythmically against the side of the bar. “I’m sure I can change your mind, Zeke.”
She directs her focus to me, a signal I know too well. I return the nod before waving Greco’s guards to bring in The Vulture’s present. The room falls silent, a sense of tension thickening the air.
Zeke looks skeptically at Sera but she only smirks back at him.
It isn’t until the body is dumped at the man’s feet that he reacts. The crinkle of plastic shifts as the body does, barely concealing the dead gang member inside.
“What the fuck is this?” he growls.
Sera taps her fingernails on the bar, the sound piercing the tense silence. She glances down at the body, then returns her attention to Zeke, pinning him with a malicious smirk. “Consider this my message to you. Leave me alone and I won’t harm your other brother.”
The man’s jaw ticks over, anger rolling off him. In quick succession, Zeke pulls his gun out on Sera, but she’s quicker. We all are.
In less than two paces I’m beside Sera, pointing my own gun at the leader. We’re in a standoff. Every man has his weapon aimed at someone, but it’s Sera I need to protect.
“Don’t do anything foolish,” she warns Zeke.
I’m suddenly in awe listening to the strength in her voice. She doesn’t waver or shake, she’s perfectly poised and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her as confident and in control than she looks right now. I’m instantly reminded of the night Luciano visited, how she was so close to pulling the trigger and ending one of the Verdis. I kind of wish she’d done it. We might not have as many problems now.
Who am I kidding? The Verdis want to overthrow Sera regardless. Killing Luciano would only fuel that more.
“I think you’ll find you’re outnumbered, princess.”
A growl of frustration rips from Sera’s throat. She nudges the barrel of her gun against the man’s forehead. “We both know you’ll be dead before your brothers pull the trigger. ”
Even though she has all the power here, she’s still remaining respectful. Respectful, yet deadly.
The leader slowly sits down on his stool, signaling for his men to stand down.
Sera follows his lead, placing her gun down on the bartop, a gesture of good faith and trust. It’s a shame I don’t share the same sentiment, but we all tuck our guns away regardless. “So, what’s a girl gotta do to get a drink in this place?”
All animosity vanishes in an instant as Sera repositions herself at the bar. She relaxes against the side, watching the Zeke reach over the bar in a huff, grabbing a beer. He pops the cap off, slamming the bottle onto the wooden top. Condensation slides down the surface, pooling on the sticky surface below.
It’s an olive branch; a way for the leader of the gang to demonstrate that he’s not a threat anymore. He could have handed her an open bottle, a glass laced with some concoction, but I figure this guy’s efforts are placed elsewhere. We’d all be dead otherwise.
Sera takes the drink graciously. Though I’ve never seen her drink beer before, she swigs it like a champ, eyes glued to the man sitting across from her.
“Tell me, why do the Verdis have you doing their dirty work?” she asks, pinning the man with a deathly stare. “The Vultures have never taken an interest in Mafia business before now.”
Zeke is silent, his jaw grinding. Whatever Sera said seems to hit a nerve.
She sighs, averting her attention to the glistening bottle. With her perfectly manicured fingernail, she starts picking at the label like she’s already bored of this conversation. “I didn’t peg any of you for chauvinists, so what have the Verdis got on you?”
The man shifts nervously. If it weren’t for the heat outside that’s swarming through the open doorway, I’d say this man was on edge. Something got him there, and the fact Sera is poking around seems to disturb him. Nobody likes strangers in their business, and I’m certain Sera has just stepped into that territory.
Despite her calm words, the guy doesn’t answer her .
“It must be something big if you’re prepared to take me out.” Sera glances around the room, taking in all the men surrounding us, ready to attack on command. All of them silent. “Nobody?” she quizzes, looking back at the leader.
That’s when I see it. The look of inevitability plaguing the man’s features. Luca’s words echo in the back of my mind and I’m taken back to a few days ago when Raf confirmed The Vulture’s part in taking down Bianchi.
“ Something they want.”
I see the turmoil this man is drowning in. He may be a strong gang member, leader of the most ruthless biker gang this side of the coast, but right now his vulnerability is speaking louder than his silence.
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” Sera’s tone remains sweet, almost innocent. If it weren’t for the gun her other hand is resting on, you’d think she was a fucking angel. But that’s Sera down to the letter. She’s always been caring yet stubborn. She isn’t a liar, but she cares enough to make promises.
“You can’t help me anyway, Bianchi. We played nice, despite what the Verdis asked, but I can’t stop them taking over and doing the job themselves.”
Serafina turns to me, her brows furrowing with the same confusion I’m trying to conceal. And then her expression filters from confusion to concern, to realization. She snaps her attention back to Zeke, leaning towards him. If I weren’t so close, I’d barely catch what she says next. But I do, and I’m in awe that she’s pieced it together so quickly. We’ve barely had anything to go off of walking in here, but Sera has just worked out something we all missed.
“Who is she?”
Zeke frowns, his lips pursing together. He looks at all of us but we don’t have a clue what’s going on. Sera seems to, though. And with a huff of exasperation, he pulls out a photo from his pocket, handing it carefully to Sera.
“My daughter,” he murmurs lowly.
“They have her?”
The man nods, and suddenly I’m all too aware of the tension suffocating the room. These men are fighting for their own blood now. Taking us out was never really an option for them, but an order they couldn’t refuse.
“I’m sorry,” Sera mutters sadly.
Her words fall on deaf ears, though. Her apology isn’t welcome here. Zeke snatches the photograph back, the sound of it crumpling in his fist feels like he’s conveying more than just a threat. “You need to get out of the city Bianchi. You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
It’s not a threat at all. It’s a goddamn warning.
“No,” Sera sighs, standing to her full height and dusting her pant suit down with her palm. “ Luciano doesn’t know who he is messing with.”
“It’s not just Luciano anymore. And if they find out you were here, and we didn’t take you out, we’re both dead.”
“Then don’t tell them,” she retorts.
“He has my daughter!” Zeke slams his hand onto the bar top, immediately making Sera flinch.
My first reaction is to draw my weapon out, but it’s almost like Sera senses it. She raises her hand in the air, a signal to prevent me from reacting.
“It’s you or her!” he sneers. Though his anger is palpable, he remains seated. It’s probably taking everything in him not to take out Sera right here. I’ve heard stories about the gang, mostly unsavory. He’s hesitating.
But why?
Sera casts me a wary look, one that I know too well. She’s about to broker an agreement with one of the most ruthless gangs in the city and she’s looking to me for confirmation. If it means having the Vultures off our backs and on our side, I’m all for it.
I give her the nod, telling her I have her back on this one. It’s funny how you can convey messages with just a look, but I guess being around one another for so long makes these conversations a little easier.
“Let’s help each other then,” Sera suggests.
Zeke raises a brow. He doesn’t turn to his brothers for support or confirmation like Sera does. It’s by no means a power move, I can tell that much. If someone has lost something as significant to them like a daughter, they’d do anything. And in this instance, he doesn’t need to wonder if his men have his back. They’ve been willing to die with a bullet in them for the sake of intervening with Mafia business.
“What do you propose?” he asks.
“A truce?” Sera shrugs. “Under the surface, of course. You help us, and we’ll help you.”
The room lapses into silence, a sense of foreboding settling over me. For a minute, Zeke looks like he’s considering Sera’s proposal. This is a definite power move, though Sera isn’t deterred by it at all.
Finally, the man finishes his beer, the bottle resting between both hands as he strokes the watery droplets away. The tension in the room is like ice about to break. One wrong word or move, and this goes to shit.
We all wait with bated breath as Zeke eventually looks back at Sera, nodding. “I’m listening.”