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Enzo The wind off the Atlantic felt wrong. It was too quiet, the kind of stillness that usually came right before a storm or a hit. I stood near the railing of the Veleno, a ninety-foot luxury yacht cutting through the dark blue water five miles off the coast. My fingers traced the heavy, silver ring on my right hand. It was a habit I picked up whenever my instincts started screaming at me. Right now, they were deafening. "You look like you’re waiting for an execution, Enzo," a voice called out behind me. I turned to see my younger brother, Alessio, leaning against the doorway of the main cabin. He had a glass of scotch in one hand and that stupid, arrogant smirk on his face—the one he always wore when he thought he was invincible. At twenty-two, Alessio still believed the Romano name was enough to keep a bullet out of his chest. At twenty-six, I knew better. "Where are Marco and Mateo?" I asked, ignoring his joke. Alessio took a sip of his drink and shrugged. "Down in the lower galley, getting more ice. Relax. Don’t ruin your suit before we even talk to the Morettis." "They were supposed to stay on deck with us," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "And where is the captain going? Look at the coastline, Alessio. We’re drifting south. The meeting spot was two miles north." Alessio frowned, his smirk fading just a fraction. He turned to look at the shoreline, then down at his watch. "Maybe he’s just avoiding the shallow waters." "He knows these waters better than anyone in the family," I snapped, stepping away from the railing. "Something isn't right." Before Alessio could answer, the door to the bridge opened. Gianna Moretti stepped out onto the deck. She was the eldest daughter of the Moretti crime family, dressed in a sharp black blazer with her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun. She looked entirely too calm for a woman about to negotiate a peace treaty between two families that had been spilling each other’s blood for three generations. Behind her came four of her family’s enforcers. My hand moved instinctively inside my tailored jacket, wrapping around the cold grip of my Beretta. "Gianna," I said, keeping my posture relaxed, though every muscle in my body was coiled like a spring. "Where is your father? The agreement was for Don Moretti to meet us face-to-face." Gianna stopped ten feet away from us. A slow, cruel smile spread across her lips. It wasn't the smile of a businesswoman ready to sign a contract. It was the smile of a predator watching a trap spring shut. "My father sends his regards, Enzo," she said softly. "But he decided this meeting wasn't worth his time. Or yours." From the shadows of the side walkways, six more men stepped out. All of them were holding submachine guns. Alessio dropped his glass of scotch. It shattered against the teak deck, the amber liquid mixing with ice cubes that melted in the evening heat. "Enzo..." he whispered, the arrogance completely vanishing from his eyes, replaced by raw fear. "Behind me, Alessio," I barked. "I told you you were paranoid," Alessio stammered, his hand scrambling to pull his own gun from his belt. "You were right. God, Enzo, you were right." "Save the tears, boys," Gianna sneered, stepping back behind her guards. "You really thought we’d let the Romano brothers walk off this boat alive? You've taken too much from us. Today, the sea takes you." "Who gave us up?" I demanded, my eyes darting between the armed men, calculating our chances. Ten against two. Bad odds. Horrible odds. But I wasn't going to die begging. "Marco and Mateo aren't in the galley, are they? Who bought them off?" Gianna laughed, a cold, sharp sound that made my skin crawl. "You think it was just two low-level guards? Oh, Enzo. You have no idea how deep the rot goes in your family. Someone very close to you signed your death warrants hours ago. They wanted the Romano empire, and you two were simply in the way." The shock hit me like a physical blow, but I didn't let it show. Betrayal from inside our own house. "Down!" I roared. I drew my Beretta and fired twice before Gianna’s men could finish raising their weapons. The first bullet hit the guard on the left in the throat; the second took down the man next to him. The deck erupted into violence. The deafening roar of automatic gunfire tore through the quiet evening. Wood splinters flew through the air as bullets chewed into the yacht’s walls. I threw my weight into Alessio, shoving him behind a heavy teak dining table on the upper deck just as a hail of lead tore through the space where he had been standing. "Shoot back!" I yelled at him, crouching low while reloading my magazine. Alessio leaned out from behind the table, his arms shaking, and emptied half his magazine into the crowd. He managed to hit one of the shooters, but he was exposed. Too exposed. "Alessio, get down!" A heavy thud rang out over the gunfire. Alessio gasped. He didn't scream—he just made a quiet, choked sound. I looked over, and my heart stopped. A red stain was spreading rapidly across the front of his white shirt, right over his chest. He looked down at his own body with wide, confused eyes, then looked at me. "Enzo..." he gasped, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips. "It... it hurts." "No! No, no, no!" I screamed. Forgetting cover, forgetting survival, I lurched toward him. A bullet grazed my shoulder, tearing through my suit jacket and skin, but I didn't feel it. I reached Alessio just as his knees gave out, catching him before his head hit the hard deck. "Hold on, little brother," I sobbed, pulling him close, pressing my hands hard against his bleeding chest. "Look at me! Keep your eyes on me, Alessio!" "I'm sorry," he whispered, his vision swimming, his fingers clutching weakly at my sleeve. "I should have listened..." "Shut up! Save your breath!" Tears burned my eyes, blurring my vision. "You're going to be fine! Do you hear me? I’m getting us out of here!" A heavy boot slammed into the side of my face. The world spun wildly. I was knocked away from Alessio, hitting the deck hard. Blood filled my mouth as I struggled to sit up. My gun was gone, kicked across the deck into the darkness. I looked up through a haze of red and pain. Gianna was standing over us, holding a small pistol. Two of her remaining guards dragged Alessio away from me, leaving a trail of crimson blood across the white wood. "Stop!" I screamed, pushing myself up on trembling arms. "Take me! Leave him alone, damn you! Take me!" Another guard kicked me hard in the ribs. I fell back down, gasping for air, the pain sharp and blinding. Gianna stepped over to Alessio, who was barely moving now, his eyes half-closed. She raised her pistol and fired two shots straight into his stomach. "NO!" I roared, the sound tearing from the very bottom of my lungs. A wave of pure, unadulterated rage washed over me. I grabbed the foot of the guard standing next to me, twisting it violently until his ankle snapped. He screamed and collapsed. I seized his dropped weapon, scrambled to my feet, and started firing blindly. I took out two more men, driving them back, trying desperately to reach my brother's body. I didn't care about my life anymore. I just wanted to kill every single person on this boat. Then, a sharp, burning heat exploded in my back. Then another. My body went numb. The gun fell from my hands. My legs couldn't support me anymore, and I crashed heavily onto the deck. The sky above seemed to spin out of control, stars blurring into streaks of light. Gianna walked into my field of vision. She looked down at me, entirely unbothered by the bodies of her own men lying around us. "You fought well, Enzo," she said softly, stepping closer. "Just like a Romano. But it changes nothing. The sea eats everything in the end." She nodded to the remaining two guards. They grabbed my arms and dragged me toward the stern of the boat. I couldn't fight back. My body refused to obey my brain. Every breath I took felt like breathing broken glass, and blood was pooling beneath me. I looked to the side. They were already lifting Alessio over the railing. "Alessio..." I managed to choke out, but it was barely a whisper. With a heavy splash, my younger brother was thrown into the pitch-black ocean. The cold water swallowed him instantly. "Your turn," one of the guards muttered. They picked me up by my shoulders and legs. I didn't have the strength to fight them. I didn't even have the strength to curse them. The absolute darkness of the ocean opened up below me. They tossed me over the side. The cold hit me like a sledgehammer. The icy Atlantic water shocked my burning wounds, taking away whatever little breath I had left. I sank fast, heavy from my clothes and the lead in my body. Above me, the dark hull of the yacht and its glowing lights began to shrink, moving farther and farther away. I was floating in absolute silence. The burning pain in my chest slowly faded into a numb, heavy coldness. Bubbles floated past my face as I sank deeper into the black depths. I couldn't move my arms. I couldn't move my legs. I'm sorry, Alessio, I thought, closing my eyes as the last bit of air escaped my lungs. I couldn't save you. Darkness began to creep into the corners of my mind. My heart slowed down, beating weak, sluggish thumps inside my chest. Death was coming, cold and quiet. Then, through the darkness, a strange light flickered. My eyes fluttered open slightly. Far below me, deeper in the black sea, something was moving. It wasn't a shark, nor was it any fish I had ever seen. It was moving fast, cutting through the water with incredible grace and power. As it drew closer, my failing mind tried to make sense of what I was seeing. It was a silhouette. A shape that looked impossibly like a woman, surrounded by a faint, blue glowing light. Long hair trailed behind her like dark silk, drifting wildly in the current. Below her waist, instead of legs, there was a long, shimmering tail that caught the faint moonlight filtering down through the water. I’m hallucinating, I thought dimly. My brain is dying. The figure swam directly toward me, her movements impossibly fast. Within seconds, she was right in front of me. I couldn't clearly see her face through the dark water and my fading vision, but I saw her eyes. They were bright, luminescent blue, glowing like two stars in the deep ocean. She reached out with pale, delicate hands. Soft, warm arms wrapped around my chest, pulling my heavy, bleeding body against hers. The ice cold of the sea suddenly didn't feel so cold anymore. Before the pitch-black void completely claimed my consciousness, I felt her pull me upward, carrying me away from the dark floor of the sea, and into the unknown.