Page 28 of Vicious Vines

Relief floods my veins, sweet and heady, and I drop into the chair, allowing myself a moment to bask in the triumph. Aldo has done it; he's proven himself once more. Our web of lies holds firm, and for now, we remain the unseen puppeteers in a game only we know we're playing.

A smile tugs at my lips, born of victory and the thrill that comes from dancing on the razor's edge.

The world stills around me, and I draw a deep breath that tastes of freedom. The weight on my chest lifts, vanishing like smoke in the wind. I rise, my movements languid, every muscle singing with a coiled, kinetic energy. The air around me feels electric, charged with the resonance of victory. My pulse dances beneath my skin, a heady rhythm that echoes the clack of my heels against the hardwood floor. I can't help but feel invincible, invigorated by the success we've snatched from the jaws of peril.

Chapter 23

The scent of gunmetal and whiskey lingers in the air as I lean over the dimly lit table, my fingers tracing the city map sprawled before us. Shadows dance across the faces of my most trusted allies—hardened soldiers in a war that demands blood and loyalty.

"Maria thinks she is untouchable," I murmur, the words tasting like venom on my tongue. "But even the mightiest fortress has its cracks." I think back to what Aldo had told me about members of the Romano’s not sleeping well under Maria’s rule of blood and might. Sticking to the old ways is what will be Maria’s downfall, and I’m the one who will topple her.

Liam, with eyes like flint and a mind sharp as a blade, leans in closer. "We've got names," he says, his voice low. "Members of the Romanos who aren't sleeping so well under Maria's rule. They're ripe for the taking."

"Who's first?" I ask, my pulse quickening at the thought of turning Maria's pawns against her.

"Vince," Aldo replies, tapping a photograph pinned beside the map. "He's been with Maria for years, but never got the respect he deserves. He's disillusioned, and more importantly, ambitious."

"Good," I say, my lips curling into a predatory smile. "Ambition can be a powerful motivator—or a fatal flaw."

"Then there's Lucia," adds Elise, her voice a sultry whisper that belies the ruthlessness within. Her dark eyes gleam with the thrill of the game. "She's been eyeing Maria's throne for a while now. The woman's practically a viper waiting to strike."

"Excellent." The word slithers out, satisfaction blooming within me like a deadly nightshade. "We'll use their desires against them, fan the flames of their discontent until they're ready to burn down Maria's empire from the inside."

"Are we sure they'll bite?" questions Liam, his broad frame shadowing the room. Doubt flickers in his gaze—the cautious strategist always measuring twice before striking.

"Certainty is a luxury we can't afford," I reply coolly. "But desperation? That's something we can work with."

I watch as plans unfold, strategies weaving into existence with each whispered conspiracy. The air thickens with the promise of retribution and the sweet spice of imminent victory.

"Let's set the stage," I announce, standing tall amidst my circle of conspirators. And with that, our dark symphony of revenge crescendos into action. Allies disperse, swallowed by the night, each carrying a note of our impending coup. Alone again, I feel the fire of anticipation licking at my insides. I will confront Maria, and in the electrifying dance of power and treachery, I will emerge victorious.

Chapter 24

My phone vibrates against the cold marble of the nightstand, a low hum that promises intrigue. I pick it up to see Liam’s name. “Tell me you have good news,” I say, my voice drowsy with sleep.

"Better than good," he teases."Maria's planning a secret rendezvous with the Feds. Pier 17, at the stroke of midnight."

"Perfect," I murmur, “We need to ensure everything is in place.”

"I'll set the stage, make sure we're steps ahead."

"Swiftly, Liam," I urge, my voice a velvet command that would accept nothing less than immediate action. "We strike fast, and we strike hard."

"Always," he assures, and the call ends with the thrill of impending victory humming between us.

The phone is heavy in my hand as I dial Aldo. He answers on the second ring, his voice a deep rumble that resonates with authority.

"Sloane," he greets, and there's a question in the way he says my name, as though he can taste the urgency of this late-night call.

"Maria is meeting the fed at midnight, Pier 17," I say, words clipped with precision. "We need to intercept them and gather evidence."

"Understood," he replies without hesitation, the line already alive with the sound of him moving, preparing. There's no need for more words; Aldo knows the dance well.

I sit there, basking in the silence of the night, feeling the weight of destiny pressing down upon me. My heart skips, adrenaline coursing through me like a heady drug. It's not fear; it's exhilaration. The game is changing, and I am the queen of shifting tides.

Chapter 25

Islip into the shadows of my dimly lit study, the scent of aged leather and the faint trace of cigar smoke clinging to the air. My fingers dance across the smooth surface of the mahogany desk as I retrieve the encrypted phone—a lifeline to my web of spies and allies. The evidence I hold is damning: photos, a voice recording—irrefutable proof of Maria's clandestine betrayal with the feds.

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