Fated reborn - Chapter 218: Chapter 218

Victor’s POV.
The drive was quiet. Not the kind of silence that begged to be filled, but the kind that carried weight—unspoken things settling between us like dust on an old book. The city stretched out ahead, bathed in the soft glow of the early morning sun, the streets still waking up. People moving about, shops unlocking their doors, the hum of life gradually building.
Luciano was staring out the window, fingers drumming lazily against his thigh. I could tell he was thinking—about what, I wasn’t sure. He had that look in his eye, like he was standing at the edge of something but hadn't quite decided whether to jump or step back.
“You sure you’re ready for today?” I asked, breaking the silence.
He turned his head slightly, glancing at me. “Are you?”
I huffed a quiet laugh. Typical. Answering a question with another question. I let my fingers tighten around the steering wheel, rolling my shoulders back slightly. “I don’t have the luxury of not being ready.”
Luciano smirked, leaning back against the seat. “Neither do I.”
We pulled up in front of the building, the tall glass structure reflecting the morning sky. The sleek black car idled as I put it in park, taking a moment to glance up at the towering facade before stepping out. Luciano followed suit, adjusting the cuffs of his suit as he surveyed the entrance.
A couple of men stood waiting by the doors, their expressions neutral but alert. As we approached, they stepped aside, giving us a clear path inside. The moment we stepped through the doors, the atmosphere shifted—cool air-conditioning replacing the outside warmth, the subtle hum of conversation, the faint clicking of heels against polished floors.
“Victor, Luciano.” A voice called out as we made our way further inside.
I turned my head, spotting Matteo striding toward us. Dressed sharply, as always, his dark eyes flickered between the two of us, assessing.
“You’re late.”
Luciano scoffed. “By three minutes.”
Matteo shrugged. “Still late.”
I rolled my eyes, stepping past him. “Anything we need to know before we head in?”
Matteo sighed, falling into step beside us. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual power plays, backdoor deals, and men who thing they own the world.”
Luciano chuckled under his breath. “Sounds like home.”
We reached the main conference room, the large wooden doors standing tall in front of us. Matteo pulled them open, revealing the room beyond—men seated around the long table, murmuring amongst themselves. The second we stepped inside, all eyes turned to us.
Luciano walked in like he owned the place, because in some ways, he did. He moved with the kind of confidence that couldn’t be faked, the kind that came from knowing exactly who you were and what you were capable of. I followed closely behind, my gaze sweeping over the room, taking in the faces, the small details that gave away more than words ever could.
Luciano took his seat at the head of the table, fingers tapping once against the polished wood before he leaned back slightly. “Gentlemen,” he greeted, voice smooth, controlled. “Let’s get to it.”
The meeting went as expected—talk of alliances, negotiations, threats laced between carefully chosen words. I kept my expression neutral, letting Luciano handle most of the talking while I observed, analyzing the undercurrents shifting beneath the surface.
An hour later, we stepped out of the room, the tension in the air dissipating the moment the doors closed behind us. Luciano let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders back.
“Well,” he muttered. “That was exhausting.”
I smirked. “And it’s barely nine in the morning.”
He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “God help me.”
I shook my head, leading the way down the hall. The rest of the day moved in a blur—back-to-back meetings, calls, and the never-ending game of power that never really stopped. By the time the sun began to set, I was more than ready to get out of that damn building.
Luciano and I stepped outside, the evening air cooler now, carrying the scent of rain on the horizon. He let out a sigh, hands slipping into his pockets as he glanced up at the sky.
“Ever wonder what it would be like if we weren’t in this life?” he asked suddenly.
I glanced at him, caught off guard by the question. “What, like normal?”
He nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah. Normal.”
I thought about it for a second, about a life where we weren’t constantly watching our backs, weren’t drowning in responsibility and danger. A life where mornings were just mornings, not chess pieces in a larger game.
“Wouldn’t suit us,” I finally said.
Luciano chuckled, nodding. “Yeah. Probably not.”
We got into the car, and as I pulled out onto the street, I caught a glimpse of him in the passenger seat, his gaze distant, lost in thought.
Whatever he was thinking, I had a feeling it was only the beginning of something bigger.
And whatever it was, we were ready for it.
As we drove through the city streets, the neon glow of signs flashing past us, Luciano suddenly spoke again. “Tomorrow, we meet with D’Angelo. He’s been quiet lately. Too quiet.”
I nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. Silence in our world was rarely a good thing. “You think he’s planning something?”
Luciano exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But I don’t trust him.”
Neither did I. D’Angelo was the type to smile in your face while slipping a knife between your ribs. A meeting with him meant we had to be sharp, careful.
“Then we go in prepared,” I said simply.
Luciano smirked, his expression shifting into something darker, more familiar. “Of course.”
The rest of the drive was silent again, but this time, it was the silence of calculation, of strategy forming behind sharp eyes and unreadable expressions.
Tomorrow would be another game. Another move in the never-ending battle.
And we would be ready.