Chapter 48 Raze
Raze
I leaned against the wall, flipping my lighter open and closed with a soft click-click that drove normal people insane. Lucky for me, no one here was normal.
I forced myself not to look at Alessio’s lifeless body across the room. Not because I didn’t care. But because I cared too goddamn much.
Blood loyalty made you weak. Emotion made you stupid. And stupid got you killed.
I flicked my lighter open one last time, flame dancing, reflecting off the walls and the shadowed corners.
Fire had always kept me company.
Plus, it was good practice for the things I was planning to blow up.
Marcello saw the flame and sighed. “Please tell me you’re not going to set this place on fire.”
“Not today,” I remarked, snapping the lighter shut. “Tempting. But I have a schedule.”
Gianni snorted. Marcello pinched the bridge of his nose, and I was pretty sure he was already questioning whether calling me had been one of his smarter decisions.
I moved across the room and took a seat on the table, ignoring the chair. Chairs were too civil. Too tame.
“Semyon Sokolov thinks he’s invincible,” Archie continued, smoothing the edge of a blueprint. “He believes the Italians are fractured. This gives us a unique opportunity.”
“Let me guess. We lure him into a kill box and blow the floors out from under him.”
Archie raised a brow. “That’s… exactly the plan.”
I grinned wider. “I love it here.”
Marcello stepped forward, all logic and precision. “Walk us through it.”
Archie tapped the map. “Semyon is paranoid. He won’t meet with me one-on-one. But if I call a ‘peace council,’ claiming the Cavalho family is temporarily crippled, he’ll come.”
“Alessio’s death,” Gianni added quietly. “They’ll see it as a weakness.”
“And Atlas,” Archie added. “They think he’s dead, too, which will make them bold.”
“That will make them easier to kill.”
Archie nodded. “He’ll bring every loyal soldier. He’ll want the satisfaction of witnesses so he can boast later.”
“Perfect,” I muttered, kicking my foot lightly against the table leg. “A man with an ego.”
Marcello shot me a look. “Focus.”
“I am focusing,” I protested. “I’m picturing where to put the charges.”
Archie slid the blueprint toward me. “I’ll get you the exact headcount and arrival route. You’ll place your devices here, here, and here.”
I leaned over the table, tracing the areas with a fingertip.
“Support beams. Both stairwells. And the southern foundation.” I whistled low. “You’re not just killing them. You want them buried in that building.”
Archie’s smile was thin, cruel. “I want them erased even more than you do.”
There was a kind of calm that hit me when planning mass destruction. Like the world finally made sense. Like everything slowed down—heart, breath, thought.
Grief became manageable. Pain became fuel. Fear became irrelevant.
And for Alessio? For the kid who used to steal my cigarettes and leave me shitty drawings of bombs tucked in my jacket pocket? I’d make this beautiful. Explosives were art. And tonight? I was painting.
Archie tapped the warehouse diagram again.
“This building,” he explained, “has one weakness: a hollow core under the main floor. It was built for storage containers, but that section was abandoned. No one’s reinforced it in years.”
I nodded. “Makes collapse easier.”
“What if Semyon brings more men than expected?” Gianni asked.
Archie folded his hands. “He won’t. He trusts too easily when he thinks he has advantage. He’ll bring generals, not foot soldiers.”
“Well,” I grinned, “he’ll die educated.”
Marcello stood straighter. “We set the charges hours before the meeting. Raze?” He nodded to me. “You coordinate placement. Gianni? You handle perimeter. I’ll handle weapons distribution.”
Archie smiled darkly. “And I’ll personally escort Semyon to the center of the room.”
“You volunteering to die too?” I asked.
Archie smirked. “No. I’m volunteering to watch.”
This alliance was dangerous. It was temporary but perfect.
Marcello placed both hands on the table.
“We end this now,” he promised.
“For Alessio,” Gianni muttered.
“For the family,” Archie added.
I clicked my lighter shut.
“For fun,” I added.
They stared at me. I shrugged.
“What? I’m honest.”
Marcello cut a look at me—but his lips twitched.
He knew exactly what he’d brought into the room.
I ran my hand along the support beam of the warehouse, humming under my breath as I unpacked the explosives. I didn’t like to call them bombs. They weren’t devices, either. They were instruments. Everyone here tonight was treating the operation like vengeance. But for me, it was creation.
Marcello called softly from across the dark floor. “Raze. Progress?”
I smirked and latched the final charge to the column. “Like music, brother. All your enemies are going to drop in the same note.”
He didn’t smile. He never smiled at the things I did. Which is why I liked him.
Archie stood near the loading bay, checking his watch, expression cold and eager. “Semyon is on his way.”
“Tell him to hurry,” I muttered. “I’m ready to paint.”
Gianni glided through the shadows, two guns hidden beneath his coat, silent as a ghost. “Perimeter is sealed. No one comes in or out.”
We were ready to welcome our guests.
I flicked open my lighter. Flame blossomed, warm and hungry.
“Hello, chaos,” I whispered, kissing the heat.
I slid it back into my pocket and moved into position as headlights blazed outside.
Engines rumbled. Doors thudded. Heavy boots hit the floor. The scent of cigarette smoke floated through the air, along with laughter that was thick with arrogance.
The Sokolov men entered like they were kings.
Idiots.
They didn’t notice the missing support columns. The unnatural hum of the charges. The fact that Raze Cavalho was already smiling like he was tasting blood in the air.
Marcello lifted his chin.
Gianni locked the main doors behind them.
Archie walked forward to greet the men he was betraying.
I breathed in and whispered: “let’s end an empire.”