Page 27 of Vicious Vines

"Swear it," I insist, locking my gaze with his. "Swear your loyalty to me, Aldo. Here, now, forever."

"Forever is a long time," he murmurs, but there's no real resistance left in him.

"Are you afraid of eternity with me?" I tease, a sly smile playing upon my lips.

"Terrified," he admits, and the raw truth of it sends a shiver down my spine—one not born of fear, but of anticipation. "But I swear it nonetheless. My loyalty to you, Sloane. To the end."

"Good." I draw back, satisfaction curling in my stomach like a contented cat. "Then let's begin."

The weight of Aldo's vow hangs heavy in the air, thick as the velvet drapes that cloak the windows of O'Neil manor. His words, a silken chain that now binds him to me, thrum with an energy that sends ripples through the charged atmosphere between us.

"Alright, let's get down to the heart of the matter," I say, my voice low and smooth as I stride towards the luxurious couch dominating the room. "Maria has always prided herself on loyalty, but even the most faithful hounds can be lured away by a juicier bone."

My fingers graze the intricate patterns woven into the backrest, tracing lines as complex as the web I'm weaving around my unsuspecting prey. "You know her operation inside out, the cracks in her armor. And Liam's intelligence is the key we need to unlock this whole damn thing."

Aldo's gaze follows me, sharp and calculating, his freshly sworn loyalty still a hot brand on his conscience. I savor the power of this moment—the turning point where everything will either fall into place or descend into chaos.

"Maria's men are mercenaries at heart," Aldo begins, his voice a low rasp. "They follow strength... and money." There’s a glint in his eye, a reflection of the same ruthless cunning that burns in my own chest.

"Then we give them what they want," I reply, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "More than she can ever offer. We dangle freedom before them—the promise of a life unchained from Maria's whims."

Aldo nods, leaning forward, a predator ready to pounce. "We turn their greed into our weapon. Cast doubt upon her ability to lead, to reward their service."

"Exactly." My heart drums a fierce rhythm, fueled by the thrill of the hunt, the sweet anticipation of conquest. "Liam has already laid the groundwork, infiltrating her ranks, sowing seeds of discontent. With your intel, we'll water those seeds until they bloom into full-blown treachery."

"Her empire will crumble from within," Aldo adds, his voice a hushed whisper, carrying the weight of a death sentence.

"But first we’ll feel her out. We feed her false information, let her believe she has the upper hand. That's how we'll test the waters—your loyalty, our survival." The words taste bitter on my tongue, laced with the venom of deceit necessary to navigate this treacherous game.

"False information?" His eyebrow arches, a silent challenge. It's an elegant expression, one that speaks of his control, his ability to mask emotions as deftly as an actor dons a new persona.

"Yes. We’ll set her up to meet with a fed that we know from Liam’s intel is dirty. We’ll tell Maria that they can get her out of the hot water she recently found herself in." My fingers trace the cool surface of the glass tabletop, a thin barrier between order and chaos. " If she senses even a hint of betrayal, we're done. She'll come after us with a wrath we may not withstand."

"Then we won't fail." Aldo's hand covers mine, his touch steady and warm, its sureness reaching into the core of my resolve. "You can count on me, Sloane."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, allowing myself a moment, however brief, to bask in the strength of our alliance. "If this goes south, everything we've built could crumble. We could lose more than just our positions—we could lose each other."

"Then we don't let it crumble." His thumb strokes my knuckles, sending sparks skittering up my arm. "We play the part, and we play it perfectly."

His confidence is infectious, a potent drug that bolsters my own determination. We are bound by a shared ambition, a craving for power and control that neither of us can deny. And yet, beneath that, something else simmers—a connection that defies the cold calculus of our circumstances.

"Alright," I agree, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions brewing within me. "Let's set the stage for our little performance. Maria won't know what hit her."

And as I look into Aldo's eyes, fierce and unwavering, I feel the thrill of the gamble we're about to undertake. There's no turning back now. Aldo, Liam and I will weave a web of lies, ensnaring our enemies in their own arrogance.

Chapter 22

The hush of night clings to my skin as I pace, each step a silent drumbeat marking the seconds slipping away like traitors. Aldo is out there, cloaked in the guise of loyalty to a woman who doesn't know she's dancing with a shadow.

I pause mid-stride, my heart a traitor thumping against its cage. The stakes are skyscrapers teetering on the brink of an abyss, and we are the architects of a dangerous ruse. If Aldo's performance falters, if Maria glimpses the duplicity lurking beneath his crafted facade, our carefully laid plans will shatter like glass. We'll be exposed, vulnerable to the whims of fate and the hunger of our enemies.

I sink into the leather chair, its cool embrace a stark contrast to the fire raging within me. My fingers dance across the armrests, nails scratching lightly as if to etch my resolve into the very fibers. The clock ticks, a relentless reminder that time is both our ally and our executioner. With every beat, I imagine the scene unfolding—Aldo's eyes locked with Maria's, his voice a melody of deceit spun with threads of truth.

I rise again, unable to still the storm within. My reflection stares back from the mirror, a ghostly sentinel bathed in the soft glow of lamplight. For a moment, I don't recognize the woman looking back at me—her eyes too sharp, her lips pressed into a line of determination that borders on desperation.

And then, a vibration—the discreet buzz of my phone tucked away in the drawer. I'm upon it in an instant, heart thundering like a drum corps as I snatch it up and swipe to read the message.

"Done. She's hooked." Three words, simple and unadorned, yet they release the tension coiling within me like a spring wound too tight.

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