The Sphinx Riddle

The night air was thick with tension as Nico stood his ground, rejecting Guiseppe's chosen ride. "I came with my ride, I go in it," he declared, unyielding.

Surprisingly, Guiseppe raised his hands in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of Nico's determination.

The sleek black Maserati purred down the winding driveway, dews glinting off its polished exterior. Inside, Nico gripped the steering wheel, jaw clenched, eyes fixed ahead. Beside him, Guiseppe shifted nervously, glancing between Nico and the trailing convoy of SUVs.

"You know, I had a car ready for you," Guiseppe ventured. "Vito prefers his guests to ride in our vehicles."

Nico's lip curled. "I came in my ride. I leave in it. Just my thing."

Guiseppe studied Nico's stony profile, then shrugged. "As you wish."

The Maserati swept around a final bend, and Vito's mansion loomed into view. A hulking stone façade studded with wrought-iron balconies and crowned with terra cotta tiles. Nico's hands tightened on the wheel. Memories threatened to engulf him, but he shoved them down. This was no time for ghosts.

The vehicles crunched to a stop on the gravel drive. Doors swung open and Guiseppe's men emerged, hands hovering near their holsters. Nico stepped out slowly, eyes raking over the mansion. Vito's lair. His jaw worked, containing a simmering fury.

Guiseppe approached, palms raised diplomatically. "Lord Vito sends his regrets. Urgent business called him away. He asked me to relay that you're to be treated as an honored guest."

Nico's mouth quirked. Honored guest. If Vito only knew the fantasies playing out behind Nico's impassive stare. Fantasies of razing this place to rubble and dancing on the ashes.

He inclined his head. "I appreciate Lord Vito's hospitality."

The words curdled on his tongue even as he followed Guiseppe inside, straight into the lion's den.

Stepping into Vito's lair felt like facing a lion in its den for Nico. Memories of abducting Vixen in this very place weighed heavily on him, the mansion poised to reveal his secrets.

Deep in the mansion's surveillance center, Vito's men glowered at the monitors. As Nico's image appeared, a muscular man slammed his fist on the desk.

"That bastardo Nico's got some nerve, driving in like he owns the place..." he growled. "Someone oughta wipe that smug look off his pretty-boy face."

The others rumbled their agreement, hands straying to weapons. On another screen, Guiseppe ushered Nico deeper into the mansion. The men watched, poised for violence, hoping for their chance to teach Nico a lesson.

In a discreet corner of the room, a tiny red light blinked. Unnoticed by the others, it transmitted a single message: Nico is here.

Far across the city, Don Vicenzo received the alert. His weathered face creased in a frown, and he slammed a meaty fist on his desk.

"Che diavolo ci fa là? What's that fool boy doing in Vito's lair?"

He barked orders, mobilizing his soldiers. "Surround the mansion, but keep out of sight. If one hair on Nico's head is harmed, burn Vito's fortress to cinders!"

As his men scrambled to obey, Vicenzo brooded. His wild card of a son was playing a dangerous game. And Vicenzo intended to stack the deck in Nico's favor, whether he knew it or not.

Vixen woke slowly, blinking in confusion. The codes and notebooks strewn around her brought it all back. She'd been working late into the night, part of her tireless efforts to penetrate the trafficking network. She consoled herself over the progress made from the antique radio.

With a groan she stretched, joints cracking. The room lay cold and empty, and she pressed a hand against the hollow pang in her chest. Nico should be here. She could almost imagine his warmth beside her, his breath stirring her hair.

Stop it, she scolded herself. Nico was out fighting his own battles, she's got to be strong for him. They both just had to hold on until they could be together again.

Vixen moved through her morning ritual on autopilot, letting the steaming water sluice away her maudlin thoughts. But under the pounding spray, that empty ache returned. She missed Nico's teasing touches, his whispered words melting her iron control.

Abruptly she twisted off the water. This loneliness would destroy her if she let it. Time to take back control. Get out. Get busy. Make progress.

She dressed quickly and headed for the door. The city archives might hold clues about the trafficking ring's past. A history lesson was just what she needed to get her head back in the game.

The archives' handsome receptionist flashed Vixen a dazzling smile as she approached the counter.

"Hello there. I don't think we've met. I'm sure I'd remember a face as pretty as yours."

Vixen returned his smile coyly. "Scusi, I'm new in town. Could you help me find the history section?"

"For you, bellissima, anything."

Vixen preened under his admiring gaze, feeling her control return. As he led her into the stacks, comic banter ensued, and Vixen asked him playful questions in her honeyed voice. He was utterly charmed, oblivious to the steel-trap mind behind her batting lashes.

Among the shelves, Vixen quickly lost herself in old manuscripts. But some long-honed instinct made her glance up, scanning the room. Her gaze snagged on two women murmuring in a corner. Something about their tense postures seemed off. Casually she drifted closer, straining to overhear.

At first the women appeared to be gossiping, but their conversation had a stilted, coded quality. Vixen's pulse quickened. This sounded like far more than idle chitchat.

She caught fragments as she lingered at a nearby shelf.

"Sphinx...Tuesday midnight...shipment...girls as cargo..."

Adrenaline flooded Vixen's veins. This sounded like trafficking information. She had to hear more, but dared not linger too long. With regret, she moved away, mind whirling over what she'd learned. The Sphinx was involved in some midnight transaction, using girls as cargo. And someone called The Don must not know.

"Hey no!", Vixen lamented. Her mind drifted to the retraced cryptic voices from the old radio's final beep.

The Fragmented words now solved..."Tuesday midnight dockyard shipment weapons girls as cargo Sphinx handles transaction The Don must not know..."