The night air was sharp, heavy with salt and gunpowder. The docks had gone silent, every man frozen, every weapon drawn. The only sound was the sea, restless and dark beneath the pier.
Damian and Matteo stood facing each other, two sides of the same coin. Years of loyalty, blood, and brotherhood hung between them like a ghost neither could bury.
"You think I wanted this?" Matteo said, his voice low but steady. "You left me no choice."
Damian's jaw tightened. "You had every choice. You chose betrayal."
Matteo laughed bitterly. "Betrayal? You call it that because I stopped following your orders? Because I wanted more than scraps from your table?"
"You had everything," Damian snapped. "Power. Respect. My trust."
"I had your shadow," Matteo shot back. "Every deal, every decision—it was always Damian Moretti. I built this empire with you, and you made sure everyone forgot that."
Damian's eyes darkened. "So you tried to kill me."
Matteo's smirk faded. "No. I tried to take back what was mine."
The words hung in the air, sharp as glass.
Luca shifted behind Damian, his gun raised. "Boss—"
Damian lifted a hand. "Stay out of it."
Matteo's gaze flicked to Luca, then back to Damian. "You really think you can end this clean? You kill me, and half the men who swore loyalty to you will turn. You've already lost control."
Damian's voice dropped to a whisper. "Then I'll rebuild it from the ashes."
Matteo's finger twitched on the trigger. "You always were good at burning things down."
The shot came fast—too fast.
But it wasn't Damian who fired.
Luca's bullet hit Matteo's shoulder, spinning him backward. Chaos erupted. Men shouted, guns flared, the night exploding into violence.
Damian dove behind a crate, returning fire. The air filled with smoke and screams, the metallic scent of blood thick in the wind.
Matteo staggered, clutching his wound, firing blindly toward the pier. "You think this ends with me?" he shouted. "You're already dead, Damian!"
Damian moved through the chaos like a shadow, his focus unbroken. He reached Matteo just as the last of the gunfire faded.
Matteo was on his knees, blood soaking through his shirt, his gun slipping from his hand. He looked up, a faint smile on his lips
"Go on, then. Finish it."
Damian stood over him, breathing hard, his gun steady. But his finger didn't move.
"You were my brother," he said quietly.
Matteo's smile faltered. "And you were mine. But brothers don't survive in this world."
He coughed, blood staining his teeth. "You'll see that soon enough."
Damian's hand trembled, just once, before he lowered the gun. "Take him," he ordered.
Luca hesitated. "Boss—"
"Alive," Damian said sharply. "He talks before he dies."
Two men stepped forward, dragging Matteo to his feet. He didn't resist. He just looked at Damian one last time, something unreadable in his eyes. "You think you've won. But you don't even know who's really pulling the strings."
Then he was gone, swallowed by the darkness and the sound of the waves.
From the car, Alessia watched the aftermath unfold. The docks were littered with bodies, the air thick with smoke. She saw Damian standing alone at the edge of the pier, his shoulders rigid, his face unreadable.
When he finally returned to the car, his hands were still stained with blood.
"Is it over?" she asked quietly.
He didn't look at her. "No. It's just beginning."
The engine roared to life, the headlights cutting through the fog as they drove away from the docks.
Behind them, the sea swallowed the night whole.
And in the silence that followed, Alessia realized something had shifted—not just in him, but in her. The man beside her was no longer just her husband by arrangement.
He was a storm she couldn't escape.