The morning after the interrogation, the Moretti estate was unnervingly quiet. The kind of silence that came after violence— thick, heavy, waiting for the next blow.
Damian hadn't come to bed. Alessia knew because she'd heard him pacing through the night, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the marble halls like a restless ghost.
When she finally found him, he was in the study, standing by the window with a cigarette burning low between his fingers. The ashtray beside him was already full.
"You didn't sleep," she said.
He didn't turn. "Couldn't."
She hesitated, then stepped closer. "Luca told me the man's still alive."
"For now." His voice was flat, detached. "He'll be moved to one of our warehouses until I decide what to do with him."
Alessia folded her arms. "You already know what you'll do."
Damian finally looked at her. His eyes were bloodshot, but sharp. "You think I enjoy this?"
"I think you don't know how to stop."
He said nothing. The silence between them stretched, filled only by the faint hum of the rain outside.
Then Luca entered, breaking the tension. "Boss, we've got something."
Damian straightened. "Talk."
Luca handed him a folder. "We traced Lupo's last known movements. He's been meeting with someone in the old quarter—someone using one of our transport routes. We think it's Matteo."
Damian's jaw tightened. "You're sure?"
"Not yet. But the timing fits. Every shipment that passed through that route was cleared under Matteo's authorization."
Alessia frowned. "So he's using your own network against you."
Luca nodded. "And he's careful. No digital trail, no direct communication. Whoever's helping him knows how to cover tracks."
Damian closed the folder, his expression unreadable. "Then we stop following the trail."
Luca blinked. "What do you mean?"
"We set a trap," Damian said. "If Matteo's using my routes, he'll come for the next shipment. We'll make sure he finds exactly what he's looking for."
Luca hesitated. "That's risky."
Damian's tone was cold. "So is betrayal."
When Luca left, Alessia lingered. "You're going after him yourself."
He didn't deny it. "He's family. This ends with me."
She studied him for a moment. "You said he was like a brother."
"He was." Damian's voice softened, just barely. "We built everything together. Every deal, every alliance. He was the one person I trusted without question."
"And now?"
"Now I have to kill him."
The words hung in the air, heavy and final.
Alessia looked at him, searching for something human beneath the steel. "You don't even know why he did it."
Damian's gaze met hers. "Does it matter?"
She didn't answer. Because maybe it didn't. Not in his world.
That night, the docks were alive with movement. Trucks lined the pier, men shouting orders, crates being loaded under the cover of darkness.
But beneath the noise, there was tension—every man armed, every shadow watched.
Damian stood near the edge of the pier, the wind whipping through his hair, his coat billowing behind him.
Luca approached quietly. "Everything's set. The shipment's baited. If Matteo's coming, he'll show tonight."
Damian nodded once. "Good."
Alessia had followed against his orders, staying hidden in one of the cars overlooking the docks. She couldn't explain why—only that something in her refused to let him face this alone.
Hours passed. The sea crashed against the rocks, the city lights flickering in the distance. Then, finally, a black SUV appeared at the far end of the pier.
Luca's hand went to his gun. "That's him."
Damian's eyes narrowed. "No one moves until I say."
The SUV rolled to a stop. Two men stepped out first—armed, cautious. Then Matteo emerged, calm as ever, his expression unreadable.
He looked straight at Damian, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You always did like dramatic settings."
Damian didn't move. "You should've stayed gone."
Matteo shrugged. "And miss the fun? You've been busy, cousin. Accusing me of treason, killing my men. I had to see for myself how far you'd fallen."
Damian's voice was low, dangerous. "You used my name. My accounts. You tried to kill me."
Matteo's smile didn't fade. "You made it easy. You were too distracted playing husband to a Romano."
The words hit like a blade.
Damian's hand twitched toward his gun, but Matteo raised his own first, aiming straight at him.
"Don't," Matteo said softly. "You won't like how this ends."
The air between them crackled with tension, the sound of the waves crashing louder, closer.
And from her hiding place, Alessia watched, her heart pounding, realizing that whatever happened next would decide everything—blood, loyalty, and the fragile line between love and war.