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I shove these doubts aside, schooling my face into a mask of cool confidence. Now is not the time for weakness or second-guessing. We have a duty to the family, a legacy to uphold. No matter what Dimitry asks of us, we will prove ourselves worthy.
All the same, as we speculate about what's to come, I can't ignore the quiet but persistent voice in my head. It whispers that nothing good can come from involving ourselves with Nexus and their machinations. And it wonders if we've made a terrible mistake in pursuing power without considering the cost.
Ren grabs a bottle of whiskey from the bar and pours us each a glass. "To us," he says, raising his drink in a toast. "The future leaders of this godforsaken world."
We clink our glasses together, the amber liquid sloshing over the rims. As I take a sip, the burn of the alcohol mingles with the thrill of our success.
"So, what's next?" I ask, leaning back against the couch.
Ren's grin turns wicked. "Now, we celebrate. And I think I know just the way to do it."
He glances toward the bedroom, where Camila is sleeping off the night's activities.
I shake my head, my jaw clenching with anger. "Absolutely not, Ren. Camila's off-limits right now. She needs rest."
Ren's eyes flash with annoyance. "Come on, Elio. You can't keep her all to yourself. We're supposed to share, remember?"
I step forward, my fists clenched at my sides. "I said no, Ren. Don't push me on this."
Dante steps between us, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Easy, boys. Let's not fight over this. Camila's not going anywhere."
Ren scoffs, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Fine. But how am I supposed to blow off some steam then? I'm wound up tighter than a fucking spring."
I pause, an idea forming in my mind. A slow grin spreads across my face. "I have the perfect solution. We'll go out and let loose, just the three of us."
Ren's eyes light up with interest. "Yeah? What did you have in mind?"
I grab my jacket from the back of the couch and shrug it on. "You'll see. But trust me, it's exactly what we need right now."
Dante nods, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm in. Let's do it."
We head out into the night, the cool air invigorating after the heat of the apartment. I lead the way, my strides purposeful as we make our way through the darkened streets.
As we walk, I feel the tension draining from my body, replaced by a sense of anticipation. Whatever the night has in store for us, I know it'll be a hell of a ride.
Ren falls into step beside me, his earlier frustration forgotten. "So, where are we going, Elio? You gonna keep us in suspense all night?"
I chuckle, shaking my head. "Patience, Ren. Good things come to those who wait."
Dante laughs, the sound echoing off the buildings around us. "Spoken like a true leader, Elio. Lead the way."
I lead Ren and Dante through the darkened campus, our footsteps echoing off the stone buildings. The night air is crisp, and I can feel the excitement thrumming through my veins. I know exactly where we're going, and I can't wait to see the look on Ren's face when he realizes it.
As we approach the shooting range, I can hear Ren's sharp intake of breath. "No fucking way," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
I grin, pushing open the heavy metal door. "Welcome to your own personal playground, Ren."
We step inside, the fluorescent lights flickering to life overhead. The room is empty, save for the rows of targets lining the far wall. I walk over to the gun cabinet and pull out a sleek black pistol, the weight of it familiar in my hand.
Ren's eyes are wide with wonder, his fingers twitching at his sides. I know how much he loves guns, how much he craves the power they give him. But I also know the dark history that lies behind that love.
"Ren," I say, my voice low and serious. "I know how much this means to you. But we have to be careful. We can't let what happened before happen again."
Ren's jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he might argue. But then he nods, his eyes never leaving the gun in my hand.
"I know, Elio. I'll be careful. I promise."
I nod, satisfied with his answer. I hand him the gun, watching as his fingers wrap around the grip with a practiced ease.
