Chapter 7: Gia Strikes Again

Leo took cover in the warehouse shadows, his boots scuffling against the cold concrete floor, the sound overwhelmed by the relentless beat of rain on the tin roof. He opened his Zippo, the flame a hot roar, and lit a cigarette, slowly exhaling smoke to smother the fire still burning beneath his skin from Marco's assault that morning. His phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with bitter cold in the darkness: 9:17 p.m., March 04, 2025. Vito's message flashed: "Crew's tight—shipments in—watch east," but something was wrong with the air, too still for all the storm out there. He ran his hand over his jacket, the parchment cracking, red pulsating feebly through the leather, a living creature he could not shake off. A gull screamed over the Sound, up in the walls, and he kicked at a crate, wood creaking empty, exhaling heavy smoke into the swaying bulbs thinning.

The door swung open, metal screeching high, splinters whizzing through the air. Leo let his cigarette fall, the ember burning on wet ground, and drew out his knife quickly, the blade shining harshly. Gia's team burst in, Serpents, Nick at the front, yellow eyes wild with flame, chain loose, metal clanking hard against concrete, guns slamming loudly in silence. Leo's men rushed in, boxes broken on the earth, steel glinted, knives and pistols, but the ambush paid dearly, bullets ripped the air, blood spouted, red, burning, one of the men fell, throat ripped wide, gurgled weakly, and another was hit in the chest, fell, boots scuffled, died before he hit concrete.

"Gia!" Leo shouted, voice cracked, kicked a box, wood splintered, rolled it, tripped a Serpent, gun fell over, he stabbed, knife lodged in, arm snapped, blood foamed up, red, sticky, guy screamed out, dropped, chain clanked. Nick swung, chain shrieked, Leo dodged, metal scraped on his jacket, leather ripped thinly, heat crackled, claws burned, shift taunting, damn it, losing control. Gunfire fired, bullets clattered off walls, his men continued to fight, grunts, curses, blood dripped on the floor, dark, wet, three others dropped, intestines vomited, red, raw, warehouse was filled with iron and gunpowder scents, rain hammered down, relentless.

Nick grinned, scar contorted, yellow eyes stared, stepped across a body, boots squelched through wetness, chain dragged slow, metal scraped against metal, kicked a crate over, wood groaned, leaned in close, breath reeked of smoke and blood. "Get out of Seattle, Russo—or die screaming," he growled, voice low, hard, swung again, chain cracked, Leo rolled, concrete tore his knees, leaped up, knife cut, Nick's side, blood sprayed, red, hot, guy snarled, staggered, chain clanged, Serpents converged, guns firm, Leo's men, slaughtered, five of them remaining, gasping, outnumbered, damn her, damn this.".

He spat blood, struck the ground, scooped up a dropped pistol, fired, crash loud, Serpent dropped, head shattered, red sprayed, rain stormed through broken door, wind wailed, gulls screamed faint, shadow loomed, wide, chain scraped, then disappeared, Nick bellowed, gripped his side, yellow eyes faded, kicked rocks, scattered loud, Serpents retracted, SUVs revved up, tires screamed, rocks sprayed, left bodies, blood, warning. Leo stood, boots slid, pistol jingled, empty, glanced at his watch, 9:29 p.m., combed his hand back through his hair, wet, sticky, damn it, Gia's game, ruthless, slashing.

He lit another cigarette, Zippo snapped, blowing smoke rapidly, heat flared, chest tightened, head throbbed, Marco's cologne clung, cigar smoke, leather, off the docks, damn him, why did it cling? Vito stormed in, dripping flannel, grabbed a bottle of whiskey off a shelf, twisted the cap, took a swig, wiped his mouth, stubble glistened wet. "Gia's Serpents—east struck too—Marco's pinned," he announced, voice gravelly, nodded at the carnage, bodies laid out, blood gathered, red, dark, crate splintered, wood creaked, rain tapped, steady, harsh.

"Fuck Marco," Leo growled, kicked a body, boots squelched wet pavement, smoothed his coat, parchment blackened, red pulsed, hot, alive, spun his knife, jammed it into his belt, stepped over a body, blood smeared on the floor, sticky, made for the door, wind pounded, rain pounded his face, a shadow flashed, swift, silk glinted, damn it, Marco, uninvited, as before. He came in, cigar lit, snapped silver lighter, blowing smoke very slowly, dark eyes fixed, silk shirt half-unbuttoned, rain reflected off his chest, tattoo thudded, twin-headed raven, red, spindly, goons on either side, guns glinting, immovable.

"Miss me, Russo?" Marco smiled, reclined, rose, boots crunched gravel, cigar glowed red, smoke swirled thickly. Leo spun his knife, charged, slash at thin air, Marco dodged, grasped his wrist, twisted, knife clattered on stone, shoved him, Leo crashed into a crate, wood creaked, splinters lashed, back scraped, damn him, heat flared, claws half-extended, black tips torn, blood beaded, red, hot, shift teased, wild, raw, damn it, losing it.

"Out!" Leo snarled, punched out, fist swung, cracked Marco's jaw, skin broke, blood leaked, red, wet, Marco laughed hard and deep, clamped on Leo's throat, fingers locked, pushed him back, crate creaked loudly, hard, sharp, breath brushed warm, smoky, close, dark eyes closed shut, too steady, too deep, throbbed up, not just anger, damn him, why did it burn? Scratched, nails scraped Marco's arm, red welts bristled, silk torn thin, kicked, boots scraped noisily, Marco grunted, pushed harder, wood splintered noisily, rain lashed in, wind howled loudly, tension snapped loudly, sharp, growling, frenzied.

"Corsked," Marco growled, low, harsh, tight hold, hand, Leo's neck, racing pulse, heat flared, aching claws, shift tearing, damn it, control unraveled, Marco's hold seared, hot, alive, curse throb, red hot crimson, parchment glimmered, damn him, why both, Marco's flames, Ezra's peace, ripping him in half? Leo roared, twisted, kicked Marco's knee, bone cracked, guy stumbled, hold slackened, Leo wriggled loose, clenches fist on Marco's throat, slams him, crate creaked, silk puckered, boots scraped, growled low, bared teeth, teeth, alpha fire, eyes glowed, feral, raw, blood trickled, red, hot, rain washed it thin, damn him, damn this.

Marco grinned, blood streaked, grasped Leo's wrists, twisted, shoved him back, crate creaked, wood prodded, breath struck, smoky, warm, dark eyes blazed, still, too damn still, cigar dropped, ember sizzled out, goons moved, guns cocked, Vito bellowed, "Leo—back off!"—boots pounded, rain pounded, regular, harsh. Leo pushed, chest crashed, silk creased, claws half-extended, tore air, Marco dodged, grinned low, damn him, watching, daring, why did it stick?

"Hit me," Leo spat, voice raw, kicked, boots scraped, Marco took his collar, pulled, bodies slammed, crate splintered, wood flew, hands clawed, throats gripped, snarling, sharp, tension cut, wild, raw, Leo's claws ripped Marco's chest, silk parted, red welled lines, blood beaded, hot, Marco shoved, pinned him, knee jammed, Leo's stomach, breath caught, damn it, heat flared, sharp, not just rage, damn him, why did it draw?

Marco edged closer, near, too near, breath touched, smoky, hot, dark eyes locked, deep, steady, silk glistened wet, tattoo pulsed, crimson, alive, rain streamed his face, slow, relentless. "Hate me if you can," he breathed, his voice low and raw, his lips brushing close, menacing, slicing, "but kill me first and not hurt me—would you?" pulse leaped, savage, not hate, not rage, damn it, something more, oath burned, red throbbed, burning, whose struggle, whose blood, whose hunger, tore at him, next?