Archie
The whiskey burned.
I let it sit on my tongue longer than necessary, like that might force oblivion to find me.
Nothing came.
I swallowed. Still nothing.
I downed the third glass. Then the fourth. And the fifth.
It didn’t make a difference.
My body processed the alcohol the same way it processed everything else—efficiently. Ruthlessly. There was no mercy, even for myself.
I set the glass down harder than needed and motioned for another.
The bartender didn’t ask questions. Men like me didn’t come here to talk.
The club pulsed around me—low lights, bass vibrating through the floor, bodies moving too close, too careless.
My men were everywhere.
Scattered through the room like ghosts in tailored suits.
At the bar. Near the exits. In the shadows where people didn’t look too closely.
I’d called them in tonight the second I left Raze Cavalho’s estate.
Because the threat of Baron Vilevski might be contained, but now I had the fallout with the Cavalho family to consider.
So I recalled my men back to my side, where they belonged.
It also meant I could afford one night to lose myself. Except I couldn’t even manage that.
I stared into the next glass like there was poison in it.
All I could think about was Antonella and the last words she’d said to me.
I won’t.
I exhaled slowly through my nose, jaw tightening as I threw back the drink. I still felt nothing.
“Jesus Christ, you always drink like you’ve got a monkey on your back?”
I didn’t turn.
Gianni Cavalho dropped onto the stool beside me like he owned the place, which—given the territory—wasn’t far from the truth.
I slid the empty glass forward. “You here to lecture me, or you going to mind your own business and pray I drink myself into an early grave?”
Gianni Cavalho and I had a colorful history which could only be described as volatile at best. He was not my most ardent fan, nor was I his.
“A bit of both,” he revealed.
I finally looked at him.
Gianni Cavalho—hot-headed, unpredictable, a man who’d put two bullets into me without hesitation once upon a time.
Still would, if it came to it. But I’d be glad to return the favor, sometime.
His gaze swept over me, taking in the swelling, the split lip, the bruising already darkening beneath the surface of my skin.
He whistled low. “Raze really did a number on you.”
“You heard, huh? Raze got lucky I was in a forgiving mood.”
Gianni snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it was.”
I didn’t bother answering. Instead, I picked up the next glass and drank.
“You know,” he continued casually, “being out in public right now isn’t exactly your smartest move.”
I tilted the glass, watching the last of the whiskey slide to the bottom. “The hit’s been dealt with.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It is the point,” I cut in, voice low. “Baron Vilevski is dead. His men are scattered or buried, meaning the hit died with him.”
Gianni leaned back slightly, unconvinced. “And if someone decides to make a name off your head anyway?”
I gestured lazily around the room. “They’re welcome to try.”
His eyes flicked outward, tracking the subtle placements, the quiet watches, the men who didn’t look like guards until you knew what to look for.
Recognition dawned.
“You brought them back in.”
“I recalled them last night,” I told him. “The second I knew I realized I’d probably need them now more than ever.”
“Paranoid much?”
“I prefer prepared.”
He hummed like he might argue it, then let it go.
Silence settled between us for a moment.
“What do you want, Cavalho?”
I wasn’t going to bother with pleasantries. The way I saw it, my business with the Cavalho family was over.
He arched a brow. “Straight to the point, huh?”
“We’ve never been friends,” I said flatly. “And I’m fairly certain I’ve just secured my position as persona non grata with your family.”
“That so?”
“Your cousin tried to cave my skull in,” I reminded him. “In case you missed it.”
Gianni’s mouth twitched. “Hard to miss.”
“Especially for you,” I added. “Given our history.”
That got a look. Not hostile, but not quite friendly either.
“Yeah,” he said after a beat. “We’ve had our share of disagreements.”
I huffed a quiet, humourless breath. “That’s one way of putting it.”
After another pause, he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the bar.
“I’m not here to start anything.”
“No?”
“No.” His tone shifted—less flippant now. More… intentional. “I’m here because, despite everything, I want one thing more than your destruction.”
At least he was honest about his feelings towards me.
“What’s that?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“I want Tone to be happy.”
I went still. I didn’t trust myself to look at him.
“She hasn’t been right,” Gianni continued. “Not since Alessio.”
My grip tightened around the glass.
“People think she’s fine,” he went on. “She smiles. She shows up. Does what she’s supposed to do.”
Yeah. I’d seen that version of her. The controlled one. The one that didn’t bleed in public.
“But she’s been drifting,” he said quietly. “Aimless. Stuck.”
I said nothing.
“We all moved on,” he continued. “One by one. Marriage. Kids. Building lives.” He glanced at me. “And she… she didn’t. She’s just stuck in the moment.”
I swallowed, the whiskey finally burning on the way down—but not for the right reasons.
“She got left behind,” he said, exhaling slowly. “I get it. It happens. People move forward. Not everyone does at the same pace.”
My jaw flexed.
“And then there’s you.”
I let out a quiet, humourless laugh. “Unfortunate for all involved.”
He ignored that.
“I know what you are,” he said. “And I know how you are.”
That got my attention. I turned slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes held mine. Steady. Certain.
“When you love, you don’t do it half way.”
Something in my chest went still.
“You do it hard,” he continued. “Obsessively. Like it’s the only thing that matters.”
He possibly knew me better than I even knew myself.
“And I think,” Gianni said, “that’s exactly what she needs.”
Silence stretched between us. Thick. Uncomfortable.
I looked back at my drink before I spoke.
“She didn’t come with me.”
Gianni didn’t react immediately.
“She chose her brother,” I added, jaw tightening.
“And you’re surprised?”
I shot him a look. “I gave her an out.”
“You gave her an ultimatum.”
I didn’t like that. Didn’t like how right it sounded.
“Raze will kill me if I go near her again,” I said instead.
“That’s Raze.”
“He’s her brother.”
“That’s a man who walked in on something he wasn’t ready to see,” Gianni corrected. “There’s a difference.”
I scoffed.
He tilted his head slightly. “You really think she chose him over you?”
“She stayed.”
“That’s not the same as choosing.”
“It looked a lot like it to me.”
Gianni shook his head slowly. “Try seeing it from her point of view, Archie. All she’s ever known is this family. Those walls. Those men. That life.”
I said nothing.
“You walked in and asked her to leave all of it behind,” he went on. “After five seconds.”
My grip tightened.
“Why should she have to choose?” he said.
The question hung there.
I frowned slightly. “What?”
“Why does it have to be him or you?” he asked. “Why not both?”
I stared at him.
“That’s not how this works.”
“It could be.”
“With Raze?” I huffed. “I doubt it.”
“He’ll come around. Eventually.”
I barked a quiet laugh. “You have more faith in your cousin than I do.”
Gianni’s mouth curved faintly. “That’s because I know him better.”
“And I don’t?”
“You know how to fight him,” Gianni said. “Not how to wait him out.”
I didn’t respond.
Because patience had never been my strength.
“Give it time,” he said. “Don’t push her into a corner and expect her to run toward you.”
I leaned back slightly, studying him.
“And in the meantime?”
“Don’t give up on her. For what it’s worth,” he said, “she’s not as okay as she pretends to be.”
He held my gaze for a second longer, then nodded once and walked away, disappearing into the crowd like he’d never been there.