Game Of Cards

The following week, Adriana found herself standing at the edge of enemy territory—The Corvelli Family's headquarters. The building, located in an industrial district away from the glitz of the city's rich neighborhoods, was far more discreet than the Vasquez family compound. Modest, even, compared to the opulence of her own family's home. But behind those unassuming walls, Adriana knew the Corvelli Family was just as dangerous, just as powerful.

She adjusted the strap of her purse, the weight of the gun inside reassuring her, though she knew that the real battle was not with firepower. This was a battle of wits, and she had learned the hard way that underestimating anyone in the mafia world—especially the Corvellis—could cost you more than your life.

Adriana was a woman of few words, and tonight was no different. She had spent the past week preparing herself for this moment. The plan was simple: infiltrate the Corvelli Family's ranks, earn their trust, and gather any information that could help her uncover the truth behind her family's brutal death. But things were never simple when it came to the mafia.

She ran a hand through her dark hair, taking a deep breath as she approached the entrance. The bouncers at the door barely glanced her way, eyes scanning her with the cold indifference that came from years of seeing all kinds of faces—good and bad. With a nod, one of the men stepped aside, allowing her entry into the sleek, modern lobby.

A heavy silence hung in the air as she made her way to the elevator. There was no turning back now. Adriana's pulse quickened, but she kept her gaze steady and her expression unreadable. She could almost hear the echo of her father's voice in her mind. Trust no one, not even the ones closest to you. The words had always sounded like a warning. Now, they felt like a prophecy.

As the elevator doors slid open, she stepped into the private office area of the Corvelli family, where the air was thick with power and secrecy. The receptionist, a blonde woman in a sleek black dress, looked up from her desk with a polite smile. Adriana didn't return it.

"I'm here to see Mr. Giovanni Corvelli," she said in a tone that was all business.

The receptionist studied her for a moment before nodding. "He's expecting you. Floor twelve."

Adriana didn't waste time. She had no intention of waiting around or making small talk. The elevator doors opened to the twelfth floor with a soft chime. The tension was almost palpable here, and it reminded her of the Vasquez mansion—but in a darker, more controlled way. The offices were luxurious but functional. No unnecessary decorations. No personal touches. Everything about this floor screamed business, and Adriana hated it. She was here to find a connection, not just secrets.

Before she could walk further into the hall, a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"You're in the wrong place, Ms. Vasquez."

Adriana's heart skipped a beat as she turned toward the voice. Standing in the shadows, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, was Rico Marino, the Corvelli Family's top agent and the one person she least expected to see.

Rico's piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, his expression guarded but with an edge that Adriana couldn't quite place. She had seen him before, in passing, during the rare occasions when the Corvelli and Vasquez families met for "peace talks" that were never peaceful. He was everything the mafia stood for—cold, calculating, and completely unreadable.

Adriana's pulse quickened. She hadn't planned on seeing him here, and she certainly hadn't planned on crossing paths with him so soon. Her mind raced, trying to maintain the edge she always had in these situations. The clock was ticking, and every second spent in the presence of a potential enemy was a risk.

"I'm where I'm supposed to be," Adriana replied, her voice as smooth as silk but with a hard edge that matched his.

Rico's lips curled into a faint smirk, his gaze scanning her like she was a piece of prey in front of him. He didn't make a move but stepped into her path. "This building isn't meant for outsiders, Vasquez. I'm afraid you've made a mistake."

Adriana didn't flinch. She knew better than to show any weakness, especially not to someone like him. She stood tall, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I'm here on business. If Giovanni Corvelli has an issue with that, I'm sure he'll let me know himself."

Rico's expression hardened for a fraction of a second, his lips pressing into a thin line. He took a step closer, his towering form blocking her path entirely.

"I don't think you understand, Ms. Vasquez," he said in a low, measured tone. "The Corvelli family doesn't entertain family drama. Whatever you're here for, it ends tonight. Leave before things get complicated."

Adriana's mind raced, trying to analyze his words. There was something beneath his tough exterior, something that didn't quite match the usual coldness of mafia enforcers. Was it a warning? Or something more?

She took a step closer, leaning in just slightly so their faces were mere inches apart. "Complicated, Mr. Marino, is what I do best," she whispered. Her eyes never left his. "Now, if you don't mind, I have an appointment with Mr. Corvelli."

Rico's eyes flashed with something unreadable—curiosity, annoyance, maybe even respect—but he finally stepped aside, allowing her to pass. Adriana didn't hesitate, walking past him with as much confidence as she could muster. But as she did, she felt his eyes on her, watching every move, every step.

The Corvelli Family wasn't her family's enemy just because they were rivals for power. No, this was personal. And now, it seemed, it was even more complicated.

Adriana entered Giovanni Corvelli's office without another word. The air was thick with smoke, and the scent of expensive cigars clung to the fabric of the room. Giovanni was sitting at his desk, the picture of control. He was an older man, with silvering hair at his temples, his sharp features etched with years of power, greed, and violence. His dark eyes flickered up at her as she entered, studying her like a chess piece on the board.

"You're late," Giovanni said, his voice low and tinged with an accent that hinted at his European roots.

"I'm here now," Adriana replied coolly, taking a seat without waiting for an invitation.

A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. Giovanni studied her for a moment longer, his lips curling into a thin smile.

"I've been expecting you, Ms. Vasquez," he said, eyes glinting with an unreadable emotion. "I trust you have the…information we discussed?"

Adriana kept her face impassive, but her heart pounded in her chest. There was something far deeper than just business happening here. Something personal.

"I have what I need," she said. "But I also need something from you."

Giovanni raised an eyebrow. "And what is it that you think you need from me?"

Adriana's gaze locked onto his, unwavering. "The truth. About my family's death."