Gravehill Club, Blackridge City
Yolanda pushed open the door leading to the VIP room, Alvarez's chambers, and her body froze in place.
She stared with wide eyes at Mattel, her brother and only family, curled on the floor. His knees were drawn to his chest and his body was trembling like an animal about to be slaughtered.
A guard loomed over him pointing a golden pistol at his head. The gun belonged to Alvarez.
Yolanda recognized it instantly.
That was when she fully believed what the guard at the entrance had told her when she arrived at the club that night. Mattel was really about to be executed.
But the main question was, why?
"No, don't." Yolanda forced her body to move before anyone could stop her. "Please… don't. Kill me instead, but please let him live."
Her voice shook despite her effort to steady it.
"Get the fuck out of my way, bitch," the guard snarled, the pistol following Yolanda as she planted herself between them.
"No," she insisted, her feet rooted to the spot as she stared at the guard with unyielding eyes.
A low chuckle rolled through the room, cutting off the argument that was about to erupt between Yolanda and the guard.
Alvarez clapped his hands slowly, the sound almost swallowed by the thump of music coming from downstairs. He was the Mafia Don who owned Gravehill Club and the entire Alvarez syndicate. Ever since her parents' death, he'd been like a father to her and her brother.
Why, then, would he make such a decision? There had to be a reason.
The guard stepped aside, leaving only Yolanda and Alvarez facing each other.
Yolanda lifted her chin, borrowing confidence she didn't quite feel.
Alvarez took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into the ashtray. The ember died with a hiss, and the atmosphere in the room grew heavy with tension.
"Fire," Alvarez said calmly, nodding once as he leaned back into the leather couch, his fingers caressing his goatee. "That's what I've always loved about you, Yolanda."
Then the warmth disappeared from his eyes, replaced by something cold and severe.
"But," he continued, his voice flattening, "do you want to know what your little brother did?"
Yolanda nodded, her throat tight, bracing herself for the answer that had already signed her brother's death certificate.
Alvarez reached for a glass of wine and took a sip. "Mattel was in charge of the San Aurelio shipment. Half a million worth of goods, gone.
Every other man shot dead. Except for him." His jaw tightened. "So tell me, how am I supposed to believe this wasn't planned?"
Yolanda sucked in a sharp breath. She turned to Mattel whose eyes were almost pleading. She knew he wouldn't do such a thing. For years he had been loyal to Alvarez, bringing in shipments safely. Why would one mistake make Alvarez doubt his faith in him?
"No," Yolanda shook her head as she turned back to Alvarez. "He would never do such a thing."
A slow smirk curved Alvarez's lips.
"You really think he can't?" He tilted his head. "People are unpredictable. Loyal today, traitors tomorrow. They stab you so deep you wish you could be reborn, just to avoid trusting them in the first place."
Yolanda said nothing. His words landed because they were true, but truth didn't make them easier to swallow. Mattel was her brother. Her only family. She couldn't stand here and watch him die. Not after the promise she'd made at their parents' graves ten years ago.
"Give me one solid reason why I shouldn't execute him right now," Alvarez said.
He reached for the table and his fingers closed around another cigarette. The guard who had pointed a gun to Mattel's head stepped in immediately. The yellow flame flared as he lit it and the smell of smoke curled through the room as Alvarez puffed.
"Because…" Yolanda started and stopped.
Her throat tightened. Too many reasons crowded her tongue, all tripping over each other.
"Because," she tried again, forcing the words out, "he's one of your loyal men. Mattel would never do something like that to you."
Alvarez leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. Smoke drifted from his lips as he spoke.
"You've said that before," he said calmly. "That's not a solid reason, Yolanda. But I'm willing to give you a choice, if you want your brother to live."
"Yes. I'll do anything," Yolanda said, the words rushing out before she could stop them.
Alvarez lifted two fingers. The guard beside him nodded once and stepped forward, slipping a photograph from his jacket and holding it out.
Yolanda took it and when her eyes landed on the photograph, her chest tightened.
She knew that face. Everyone did.
Alexandrio De Luca. The king of the underworld. A ghost men whispered about. A man people didn't hunt, because hunters didn't come back.
"You know who that is," Alvarez said.
"Yes." Her fingers tightened around the picture. The paper felt heavier than it should have. What she didn't understand was why it was in her hands.
"I want you to assassinate him."
For a second, she thought he was joking. A short, disbelieving laugh scraped its way up her throat before she swallowed it back. Alvarez didn't smile. His eyes were serious. Dead serious.
That was when it sank in.
She looked back down at the photograph. Alvarez's last two men hadn't even made it past the outer gates before they were slaughtered.
"You want me to kill…" Her voice faltered as her hand tightened on the picture.
"To kill Alexandrio De Luca?" She lifted her gaze, one brow arching despite the chill creeping into her bones. "You know how impossible that is."
"No." Alvarez shook his head slowly. "What I know is that you can do it. You have the skills, regardless of your title as my intelligence officer."
Yolanda let out a slow breath. "This is a death sentence."
"Do you want your brother alive or not?"
Her hand clenched at her side, nails biting into her palm. There it was. The trap. The choice that wasn't a choice at all.
"Good," Alvarez said, rising to his feet. "I thought so."
He turned toward the door. "Get ready. You'll be notified when the time comes."
Then he was gone.
Yolanda stayed where she was, staring down at the photograph. At the face of
a man no one had ever killed.
Wondering if she'd be the first, or just the next body added to his count.