The morning after the first hit on Reyes' network, Rio simmered with retaliation.
Military police paraded through the streets with rifles and grim faces. Sirens echoed more frequently. Surveillance increased. And in the back alleys of the favelas, people whispered that a storm was coming—one that reeked of blood and money.
Leonardo stood on the rooftop of a defunct chapel that overlooked much of the bay. Behind him, Koko monitored a laptop connected to a rotating network of drones and surveillance feeds.
"They're doubling patrols in Sector Nine," she said without looking up. "Reyes is scared. He's bleeding, and he knows it."
Leonardo adjusted his sleeves. "Scared men are unpredictable. Let's keep our people out of that sector for now."
He turned toward the city and exhaled slowly. This wasn't just about money. It was about power—and how easily it slipped through a tyrant's fingers when they got too comfortable.
Inside the warehouse, Dom's crew was busy regrouping. Maps of Rio were tacked up on corkboards, strings of red yarn connecting locations of interest. Tej worked on an encryption breaker. Roman complained about the heat. Brian monitored a police scanner.
And Gisele? She found herself standing near Leonardo more often than not.
She wasn't entirely sure why.
"You always watch from up high?" she asked him, nodding toward the chapel as she handed him a bottle of water.
He smirked. "Better view. Fewer bullets."
She chuckled. "Smart. That why you never joined the front-line runs?"
"That's Dom's world," Leonardo said. "Mine is the scaffolding behind it."
She studied him. "But you could join. You've got the edge."
He tilted his head. "And you noticed?"
Gisele smiled knowingly. "I notice everything."
There was a flicker of something between them. A subtle current neither acknowledged aloud.
Not yet.
Meanwhile, Reyes was unraveling.
His lieutenant, Zizi, stormed into his estate in broad daylight with a cracked tablet and a bleeding lip.
"They hit another drop. Two this time. Simultaneous. We lost $8 million."
Reyes slammed his palm against the marble table. "They're coordinated. Precise. They know our logistics. Our schedules. This isn't just street muscle anymore."
Zizi nodded. "We think someone's backing them. We're working on a list."
Reyes' eyes narrowed. "Work faster. And send a message. Make someone bleed."
By the end of the week, Leonardo gathered Dom, Brian, Han, Gisele, and Koko in his upper war room.
"Reyes is tightening his grip," Leonardo said, activating a projection of the city map. "These ten banks hold the remainder of his liquid assets. They're guarded, yes—but not impenetrable."
Dom crossed his arms. "You're proposing we take all of them?"
Leonardo looked up. "No. I'm proposing we fake it."
A beat of silence passed.
Brian leaned forward. "You mean make him think we're hitting them, but don't?"
"Exactly," Koko replied. "We burn him from the inside. We make him paranoid. Waste his own money moving his stash. We control the board."
Han nodded slowly. "Clever. Dangerous. I like it."
That night, Gisele found Leonardo again, this time on the balcony of the safehouse.
"You think this ends clean?" she asked, arms crossed.
He shook his head. "Not a chance. But I'm not here for clean. I'm here for decisive."
She leaned against the railing beside him.
"I fought in wars," she said. "Seen things most people can't stomach. But this… this is something else."
He turned toward her, voice softer now. "Why stay?"
She looked up. "Because I see you. You don't talk like a soldier, but you act like one. You carry a plan behind your eyes like you've already lived it. And I want to know why."
Leonardo didn't answer.
Instead, he offered her the night air and silence.
It was enough for now.
The fake hits began two days later.
Leonardo used remote detonators and planted surveillance drones to simulate robberies across three city sectors. Reyes' men scrambled, redirected convoys, and exposed two secret stash locations that Dom's crew then raided for real.
A cat-and-mouse game evolved.
One Leonardo orchestrated with surgical precision.
And all the while, that golden summon ticket remained untouched—still sealed within Leonardo's digital vault, waiting.
Because this war wasn't over.
And Leonardo De Luca played the long game.