Chapter 3 — Cracks in the Empire
Ream
The Altieri Family Estate lay cloaked in twilight as Ream stepped out of the sleek black car, its chrome trim gleaming faintly under the dim driveway lamps. The air was heavy with the mingling scents of rain-dampened earth and roses from Lucia’s carefully tended garden. A chill crept over the grounds, but Ream hardly noticed. His thoughts lingered on the chaos at The Velvet Room and the cryptic warnings of George Windsor, the enigmatic newcomer whose hazel eyes had gleamed with unnerving certainty. Rolling the Altieri Signet Ring around his finger, he felt its weight anew—a coiled serpent biting into his skin, reminding him of the fragile legacy he was bound to protect.
Inside, the estate’s grandeur loomed dark and imposing, its polished marble floors reflecting the fractured light of dim chandeliers. Shadows stretched long against the wood-paneled walls, their edges whispering of secrets. Yet beneath the opulence, a taut stillness hung in the air—not peace, but the silence before a storm.
Ream’s footsteps softened against the plush crimson rug of the grand hall as he strode toward the study. There, Sapnap waited, leaning against the edge of the desk, arms crossed over the well-worn leather of his jacket. His sharp dark eyes tracked Ream’s every move with restless intensity, like a predator caged too long.
“You’re late,” Sapnap remarked, his voice edged with dry humor that failed to mask his concern. “What’s the excuse this time? Decided to pick a fight in the club without me?”
Ream didn’t answer immediately. Crossing the room with measured steps, he reached for the bar cart by the window and poured himself a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid caught the faint tremble of his hand before he steadied it, taking a slow sip that burned its way down. “The Velvet Room is compromised,” he said finally, his voice low and controlled. “Someone made a move against us tonight.”
Sapnap’s jaw tightened as his humor vanished. “Vito?” he asked, his tone hardening.
“Possibly,” Ream replied, turning to face him. The glass hung loosely in his hand as his gray eyes sharpened. “Or someone working for him. There’s a leak in the organization.”
Sapnap pushed off the desk, pacing the room with taut energy, his boots scuffing softly against the rug. “We’ve been saying it for weeks. Someone’s feeding him information. Vito’s been too precise—hitting us where it hurts. That bastard doesn’t get this lucky.”
Ream’s grip on the glass tightened as fragments of the night replayed in his mind. The man bleeding out on the floor. George’s calm voice slicing through the chaos. “There’s a storm gathering around you,” George had said, his tone deliberate, his presence unsettlingly assured. The memory of his cryptic warnings clung like a shadow, hinting at truths Ream couldn’t yet see.
“Tonight wasn’t just an attack,” Ream said finally, his voice cutting through the tension like tempered steel. “It was a message. Vito wants to remind us we’re vulnerable.”
Sapnap stopped pacing, his dark eyes burning with frustration. “So what’s the plan? We send a message of our own? Hit him where it hurts?”
“No,” Ream replied, the word sharp and deliberate. He held Sapnap’s gaze, unyielding. “A premature move shows weakness. If we retaliate now, we’ll expose our vulnerabilities. First, we find the leak.”
Sapnap flexed his hands, his frustration bleeding into his movements. “And how do you plan to do that? You can’t trust half the people in this house right now.”
Ream set the glass down with a faint clink, his expression cold and composed. “I’ll start with the ones closest to the cracks,” he said. “For now, focus on the Warehouse District. Vito’s tightening his grip there, and we can’t let him choke us out.”
Sapnap’s shoulders stiffened, his jaw working as though biting back an argument. Finally, he nodded, though the tension in his frame remained. “Fine. But don’t expect me to sit on the sidelines forever.” His gaze lingered on Ream for a moment before he turned and left, his boots echoing down the hall.
Ream exhaled quietly, letting the silence settle. Turning to the window, his eyes drifted past his own reflection to the gardens beyond. Among the faint glow of lanterns illuminating the rose bushes, he saw a familiar silhouette. Lucia.
She stood amid the blooms, her figure delicate yet unyielding in the lantern light. Her arms were crossed, the sapphire pendant at her throat catching the shimmer of the evening. Ream hesitated, then stepped outside, the chill of the damp grass soaking through his shoes.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Lucia said without turning as he approached. Her voice was soft, yet it carried a sharpness that cut through the stillness. “Or maybe you’ve just been too consumed by this empire to notice.”
“I notice,” Ream replied, his voice quieter than usual. He stopped beside her, the faint scent of roses mingling with the damp night air. “I always notice.”
Lucia turned to face him, her piercing green eyes meeting his. “Do you?” she asked, her tone unwavering. “Because all I see is you slipping further into the same ideals that destroyed him.”
Ream stiffened, though his expression remained a mask of control. “I’m doing what I have to,” he said evenly. “For this family. For you.”
“For me?” Lucia’s laugh was bitter, sharp with restrained anger. “Don’t use me as an excuse for your choices, Ream. This family doesn’t need more control. It needs to heal. And you can’t heal it by clinging to the pieces that are already breaking.”
Her words struck like a blow, but Ream held his composure, his jaw tightening as he turned his gaze to the distant shadows of the estate. “If I let go, everything crumbles.”
Lucia stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that carried the weight of years. “And what if holding onto it is what’s breaking us? You’re not him, Ream. You don’t have to be.”
The words lingered, cutting through the night’s chill. For a moment, Ream said nothing. The weight of the ring on his finger seemed heavier than ever, its coiled serpent tightening its grip. “Then I’ll rebuild it,” he said quietly. “Piece by piece, if I have to.”
Lucia sighed, her expression softening with a quiet ache. Before she could respond, the faint crunch of gravel behind them drew their attention. Ream’s hand instinctively moved to the knife concealed beneath his jacket as a figure stepped into the lantern light.
George.
“Apologies for the intrusion,” George said smoothly, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. His leather jacket glistened faintly with rain, his hazel eyes steady and unreadable. “I knocked, but your staff seemed... preoccupied.”
Ream stepped forward, positioning himself between Lucia and the newcomer. “You have a habit of showing up uninvited,” he said coldly.
George’s faint smile returned, enigmatic and deliberate. “And you have a habit of being where the action is. Call it fate.”
Ream’s jaw tightened. “What do you want?”
“To talk,” George replied, his tone measured. “About the cracks in your empire—and the man who’s widening them.”
Lucia stepped forward, her gaze sharp with suspicion. “Who are you?”
George met her question with calm composure. “A friend,” he said simply. “Or at least, someone who could be.”
“You’re not my friend,” Ream interjected sharply, his tone cutting. “And you’re not welcome here.”
George tilted his head slightly, his expression unchanging. “You’re right, of course. But I am someone who knows how to fix a broken chessboard.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Ream’s mind raced, weighing the risks of allowing this man into his world against the advantage he might offer. His instincts screamed against trust, but something about George’s calculated calm forced him to pause.
Lucia’s voice broke the silence. “Ream—”
“I’ll handle this,” Ream said firmly, cutting her off. He turned to George, his gray eyes sharp and unyielding. “You have three minutes. Inside.”
George’s smile widened slightly, enigmatic as ever. “I only need two.”
As Ream led George toward the estate, the faint chill of the evening seemed to seep deeper into his skin. The storm George had spoken of wasn’t on the horizon—it was here. And perhaps, the cracks in the Altieri empire ran deeper than anyone realized.
