Ch-13
The meeting in the VIP lounge ends, but the air remains thick with suspicion. Georgie May Adler and Ethan Aviel walk out together, leaving the lieutenants behind. The hallway outside is dimly lit, their footsteps echoing softly.
Ethan Aviel (ml)
(low voice): You don’t trust any of them.
Georgie May Adler (fl)
(flatly): Should I?
Ethan doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watches her closely as they move toward the exit. He’s seen the way Nico Bianchi analyzes everything, the way Rafael Morello barely hides his temper, and the way Silvio Caruso plays everything like a game.
Ethan Aviel (ml)
You think Silvio’s the rat.
Georgie May Adler (fl)
(thoughtful): He’s reckless, unpredictable. But being a traitor? That’s another level of stupidity.
She stops walking, turning to face Ethan. Her gaze sharpens.
Georgie May Adler (fl)
I need you to watch him. Closely.
Ethan tilts his head slightly, reading between the lines. She doesn’t trust Silvio, but she isn’t acting yet. She wants proof.
Ethan Aviel (ml)
And if I find out he’s the one?
Georgie doesn’t answer immediately. Then, with the cold finality of a queen delivering a verdict—
Georgie May Adler (fl)
Then we make an example out of him.
Later that night, at a high-end underground club owned by the Adler family. Music pounds through the speakers, the crowd a mix of mafia associates, business partners, and unknown faces lurking in the corners.
Silvio Caruso lounges in a private booth, surrounded by women, a drink in hand. He looks relaxed—too relaxed. Across the room, Ethan Aviel sits at the bar, eyes locked on Silvio, watching every move.
A man in a dark suit approaches Silvio’s table, leaning in to whisper something. Silvio’s expression flickers—annoyance, then something sharper. He downs his drink and stands abruptly.
Ethan’s gaze sharpens. He watches as Silvio moves toward the back exit, the man following close behind.
Ethan Aviel (ml)
(to himself): Let’s see where you’re slithering off to.
Without hesitation, he gets up and follows, his hand resting lightly on the knife hidden beneath his jacket. The hunt has begun.
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