Page 63 of Conall's Reign

“That’s why we let him think he’s the one playing the game,” Ilias added with a grin. "We don’t push too hard. We let him draw his own conclusions—ones we conveniently guide him toward."

Angelo turned his gaze towards me. “Francesca, you and Theo were careful, but there’s always a chance that something was overlooked. If Cosimo stumbles upon anything, you need to let us know immediately. Don’t try to handle this alone."

I met my brother’s gaze, interpreting the command behind his words. "Understood."

"Then it’s settled." Maxim leaned forward, his voice a low murmur of finality. "We let this situation with Cosimo play out, and when he has outlived his usefulness…" His fingers flexed once before he reached for his glass. "We end him."

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

conall

The tensionin the room had eased slightly, though the weight of what had been revealed still lingered in the air. The four of us enjoyed a good plan with strings to pull, and this was right up our alley.

Maxim leaned back in his chair, swirling the last of his vodka in his glass. “If we let Cosimo think he is making progress in his brother’s investigation, it’d be pretty entertaining.” Maxim was a cruel bastard at times, but we all appreciated that side of him. “Then, while he’s chasing his tail, we can make him look completely insane.”

I nodded. “As long as we keep all our pieces on the board.” I was concerned we might become overly entangled in these games. I didn’t want things to get too complicated.

Just as the final words left my mouth, a sudden, deafening explosion shook the building. The walls trembled, the heavy wooden table jolted, and the dim lighting flickered wildly. A moment later, gunfire erupted outside the VIP lounge, the sharp crack of bullets slicing through the pulsating bass of the club’s music.

Finn was the first to react, drawing his gun as Sean pushed Francesca behind the cover of a leather booth. I was already moving, my weapon drawn, as I kicked over a table for additional cover. Maxim remained eerily calm as he pulled his gun from his holster, his expression darkening.

Angelo cursed as he crouched beside Ilias, who grinned like a man who lived for moments like this. "Looks like Vallone got tired of waiting."

The door to the VIP lounge swung open, and one of our men staggered in, his shirt stained with blood. "They’re here! Vallone’s men!"

The room erupted into chaos as we braced ourselves to confront the attack head-on, our meticulous plans briefly overshadowed by the imminent violence.

I grabbed Francesca’s wrist and yanked her toward me, pulling her close as another round of gunfire rattled through the club. Glass shattered somewhere behind us, the sharp crash was barely audible over the pounding bass and the screams echoing from the main floor.

"Sean, take her out of here. Now," I commanded, my voice sharp and authoritative.

Sean paused briefly, his sharp eyes flickering between me and the chaos unfolding.

"Go!" I commanded.

Sean nodded and wrapped a strong arm around Francesca’s shoulders, steering her toward the back exit. She resisted, her eyes flashing with defiance.

"I won’t leave you here!" she hissed. “Give me a gun. I can shoot.”

"You damn well are," I snapped, gripping her chin to force her to meet my gaze. “I need you to be safe. If anything happens to you—" I knew she could fight, but I’d feel better with her out of the line of fire. Then I could concentrate better.

A bullet tore through the leather booth beside us, silencing my words. Finn laid down cover fire, muttering curses under his breath.

Francesca's lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but Sean didn’t give her the chance. He pulled her along, positioning himself between her and the line of fire as they slipped into the back hallway.

I turned just as one of Vallone’s men pushed through the doorway with his gun raised. I fired first. The shot was clean, dropping him instantly. More were coming.

Angelo and Ilias moved like well-oiled machines, effortlessly cutting down the intruders as they attempted to press inside. Maxim remained composed, firing precise shots, his expression cold.

Finn ducked behind the bar to reload. "We need to clear a path, or we’ll be boxed in."

I clenched my jaw and scanned the exits. "We hold them off long enough for Francesca to get clear. Then we push back."

Maxim gave a single nod. “Then let’s remind Vallone why we’re not the ones to fuck with.

Another round of gunfire erupted, and I stepped into the storm. The room filled with smoke and the acrid scent of gunpowder. My pulse pounded as I took cover behind an overturned table, firing shots at the men spilling into the lounge. Heavily armed, their intent was clear—this wasn’t just a warning. Vallone wanted us dead.

One of his men lunged at Angelo, a wicked-looking blade flashing in the dim light. Angelo sidestepped smoothly, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting until a sickening snap echoed through the chaos. He pushed the body aside and grabbed his gun, taking down another enemy before they could respond.

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