Ch-12
VIP lounge of the underground club. The air is thick with tension. The confrontation still lingers. Rafael Marino leans forward, a slow smirk playing on his lips. Nick Romano watches silently, eyes unreadable.
The tension in the VIP lounge hasn’t eased. Everyone remains seated, uneasy after Georgie May Adler’s warning.
Georgie May Adler leans back in her chair, eyes scanning the room like a predator assessing its prey. Ethan Aviel stands at her side, silent but watchful. The three Adler lieutenants—Nico Bianchi, Rafael Morello, and Silvio Caruso—sit across from her, each reacting differently to the unspoken accusation hanging in the air.
Nico Bianchi
(calm, adjusting his cufflinks): You’re thinking someone in this room betrayed you.
Georgie May Adler (fl)
(coolly): I don’t think. I know.
Rafael Marino
(scoffs, arms crossed): If you knew, you’d have put a bullet in them already.
Silvio Caruso
(leaning back, smirking): Or maybe she’s enjoying the suspense.
Ethan Aviel’s gaze flickers toward Silvio at that comment, but he stays silent. Georgie studies their reactions, measuring every word, every twitch of muscle.
Georgie May Adler (fl)
The hit on me wasn’t random. Someone fed information to the wrong people. Someone close enough to know my movements.
Nico Bianchi
(calmly): And you expect one of us to confess?
Georgie May Adler (fl)
(smirks coldly): No. I expect the guilty one to start making mistakes.
Rafael Marino
(growling): If you think it’s one of us, just say it.
Ethan Aviel (ml)
(finally speaking): Impatient, aren’t you?
Rafael’s jaw clenches. Ethan’s tone is neutral, but the challenge is clear. The room grows colder.
Silvio Caruso
(mocking): You always this paranoid, boss? Or is your new attack dog making you jumpy?
Ethan’s expression remains unreadable, but Georgie shifts slightly in her seat, unimpressed by Silvio’s attempt to provoke.
Georgie May Adler (fl)
You handle street-level business, Silvio. That means you hear things before I do. If there’s a rat in my house, you should’ve known first.
Silvio Caruso
(grinning lazily): Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t feel like sharing.
A tense silence. Nico watches them carefully, while Rafael’s fingers twitch as if itching for his gun.
Georgie May Adler (fl)
(softly, deadly): You’d better start feeling like sharing. Because the next time someone comes for me, I won’t be asking questions.
The weight of her words settles in the room. Ethan meets her gaze briefly, something unreadable passing between them. One thing is clear—this isn’t over.
Comments