Page 59 of Brando

“Let’s get this over with,” Brando says, the words clipped, his voice hoarse but sharp.

The rest of the group takes their positions around the table, Brando moving to my other side with a short nod in the Enforcer’s direction.

“Falcone’s not done with us,” I mutter, my voice low, as I unfold a piece of paper and slide it across the table to Brando.

Brando takes it without hesitation, his eyes scanning the message before looking up, meeting each pair of eyes in the room. “What’s this?”

“Falcone’s shipment that’s leaving the docks on Thursday. It was supposed to be a night run, but he’s moved it up. Transport will now be in the morning.”

“We know he’s planning something big with this shipment,” Lucky interjects.

Brando doesn’t flinch. “Have we confirmed what’s in the shipment?”

The question hangs in the air like a weight, but I don’t answer right away. Instead, I glance over at the Enforcer, who’s been silent up until now, his face an unreadable mask. The Enforcer’s gaze flickers to Brando, his jaw tight as he takes a step forward, unfolding a map of the docks on the table, x marking several spots where Falcone’s containers are stored.

“I believe it’s human cargo,” the Enforcer says, his voice low, cutting through the tension. “Falcone’s men don’t just deal in weapons. He’s got connections, smuggling people across borders, selling them into slavery. This shipment is probably just another way of moving them, but this time, I believe it’s on a grander scale.”

The room goes still. The air feels heavy. The word “slavery” hangs there, a cold reminder of the cruelty that lurks in the world.

“Humans?” Rafi’s voice cracks, disbelief flashing across his face. “He’s trafficking people like cattle?”

Sometimes I forget that Rafi is of a different generation. What seems like it’s par for the course for us is an activists’ dream to someone like Rafi.

The Enforcer nods. “If we don’t stop him, there will be more blood on our hands than just the ones we’ve already spilled.”

A long silence falls, everyone in the room processing the weight of what the Enforcer just said. I can feel the tension tightening around us, like a noose slowly being drawn tighter. We’ve fought so hard, and yet this bastard—Falcone—hasn’t even begun to play his final hand. And he’s dealing in trade that is prohibited in our city, where we write the rules and we enforce them.

Brando, despite his injury, looks every bit the leader he is. His eyes burn with determination, not for the first time, but every time we face down a new threat. There’s something about the way he holds himself that makes the rest of us want to follow.

“This means the Andrade girls could be part of that cargo,” Brando says, his voice steady, unwavering.

“You think Falcone will show?” Lucky asks. “Knowing that we’re searching for him?”

It’s the Enforcer who speaks up, stepping forward to tell us confidently that Falcone never allows a shipment to leave before checking it himself.

“Most likely, that’s why he’s moved the timing; to throw us off. If he gets the shipment out earlier, we won’t be able to stop him.”

“We take the docks before he has a chance to move the cargo,” I tell them. “Full force.”

“We take whatever’s in those containers, and we burn everything else to the ground,” Brando adds.

“You’re not seriously considering going, are you?” I’m trying to keep the concern out of my tone, but it’s there, nonetheless. “You’re injured.” My voice is low, almost a growl, even knowing there’s nothing that could possibly dissuade my brother from joining the assault on the docks.

Brando doesn’t even flinch at the question. “I’m going. I’ll have no greater pleasure than putting that dog down once and for all.”

“You’ll slow us down,” I press, and all I can think of is what will happen if my brother finds himself in a delicate situation and is too slow to protect himself. I can’t risk losing him or any one of my brothers, let alone any of my men. “We don’t have time for that.”

Brando’s gaze hardens, his jaw set. “I said I’m going. I need to end this once and for all. Falcone can’t walk away from this.”

The room goes quiet, each man contemplating the gravity of the situation. I can see it in their eyes—they know better than to question Brando when his mind is set. The truth is, none of us would back down, not when the stakes are this high. Falcone is too dangerous to let slip away.

“I needto make sure that Brando is covered at all times.”

The words hang in the air like a shadow, thick with the weight of what’s to come. Betrayal gnaws at me, but I can’t afford to let that stop me. My brother is a goddamn bull, charging blindly into every storm, and I can’t keep up with him anymore. I’ve tried, but his stubbornness is a weapon in itself. Tomorrow, he’s heading to the docks—recklessly, as always—and I know damn well that I can’t trust him to keep his head straight. Not anymore.

“I can’t have eyes everywhere,” I murmur, the decision settling into my bones like cold steel. “I need your help to keep him safe.”

The Enforcer stands across from me, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He’s been invaluable to us since he joined—no hesitation, no mercy, just pure efficiency. I trust him more than most, though I won’t admit it. Not aloud.

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