Chapter 71
The luxury hotel’s private floor was suffused with tension as Marco and Carmen positioned themselves near the heart of the Consortium’s meeting. The table was surrounded by powerful figures, their discussions in clipped tones as they outlined strategies, territorial expansions, and plans to solidify their control over Europe’s criminal underworld.
At the head of the table stood the man Marco and Carmen had been hunting—Il Spectro, or so they believed. His tall frame and sharp features exuded authority, his voice calm but commanding as he addressed the room.
“Our enemies are disorganized,” Il Spectro said. “The Venetti family’s retaliation at the weapons cache was a fluke, not a strategy. They are reacting, not leading. Their time is limited.”
Carmen exchanged a quick glance with Marco. Her earpiece crackled as Luca’s voice came through. “Reinforcements are twenty minutes out. If you’re going to act, now’s the time.”
“Copy that,” Carmen whispered.
Marco nodded subtly and adjusted his jacket, concealing the small pistol holstered inside. “Let’s finish this.”
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Moments later, chaos erupted. Marco moved first, stepping into the circle of leaders with a commanding presence.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “I hope you’re enjoying your last meeting.”
Gasps and shouts filled the room as Consortium guards reached for their weapons, but Carmen was faster. A shot rang out, and one of the guards fell.
“Don’t move,” Carmen commanded, her pistol aimed steadily at the remaining leaders.
Il Spectro stood unfazed, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied Marco and Carmen. “You’ve come a long way just to die here, Mr. Venetti.”
“I’m not the one who’s dying tonight,” Marco retorted.
The leaders exchanged uneasy glances, their confidence shaken. Carmen stepped forward, her tone laced with steel. “We’re not here to negotiate. You’re going to tell us everything—the Consortium’s plans, operations, and the name of your leader. Now.”
The room was silent until one of the leaders, a man with graying hair and a nervous demeanor, cracked under the pressure. “It’s not him,” he blurted, nodding toward the man at the head of the table.
Marco’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
The graying man hesitated, then spoke quickly. “He’s not Il Spectro. He’s a decoy—just a front.”
Carmen’s stomach dropped as she processed the revelation. “Then who is it?”
The man hesitated again, glancing around the room as if searching for an escape. Finally, he spoke: “It’s…”
The door burst open before he could finish. A fresh wave of guards stormed in, weapons drawn.
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The room exploded into chaos as Marco and Carmen fired at the incoming guards. Consortium leaders ducked for cover, while the remaining guards engaged in a brutal firefight.
Marco grabbed Carmen’s arm. “We need to move!”
“We’re not leaving without answers,” Carmen said, her voice firm.
Marco fired at another guard, clearing a path to one of the leaders cowering behind the table. He grabbed the man by the collar, shoving him against the wall.
“Who is Il Spectro?” Marco demanded.
The man’s face was pale as he stammered, “It’s… someone you know. Someone from your past.”
Marco’s grip tightened. “Who?”
Before the man could respond, a bullet struck him in the chest. Marco cursed, dropping the now-lifeless body as Carmen pulled him toward the exit.
“We’re out of time!” Carmen shouted.
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The escape was a blur of gunfire and shouts. Marco and Carmen moved as a unit, their movements precise as they navigated the hotel’s labyrinthine halls. Guards fell one by one as they fought their way to the stairwell.
“Luca, we’re coming out,” Marco said into his earpiece.
“South entrance is clear,” Luca replied. “I’ve got the car ready.”
Bursting through the stairwell door, Marco and Carmen sprinted toward the exit. The sound of pursuit echoed behind them, but the sight of Luca’s car waiting at the curb spurred them forward.
Carmen dove into the passenger seat as Marco slid into the back. “Go!” Marco shouted.
The tires screeched as Luca floored the accelerator, the car tearing down the street. Behind them, the hotel receded into the distance, its lights glowing against the dark Geneva sky.
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In the safety of the speeding car, Carmen turned to Marco, her breathing still uneven. “Did you hear what he said? Someone from your past?”
Marco’s face was shadowed with doubt and anger. “If it’s true, this vendetta has been years in the making.”
Luca glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “What do we do now?”
Marco’s jaw clenched. “We regroup. And we find out exactly who Il Spectro is.”
Carmen nodded, her resolve hardening. “We’ve taken out their leadership. They’re weaker now. But this isn’t over.”
“No,” Marco agreed, his voice low. “It’s just beginning.”
As the car sped through the darkened streets, the weight of their mission settled over them. They had struck a critical blow, but the revelation of Il Spectro’s identity hung in the air like a dark cloud, promising more bloodshed to come.
