The morning broke clear and cold, sunlight glinting off the frost that clung to the iron gates of the Moretti estate.
The air was sharp, the silence heavy.
In the basement, Matteo sat chained to a chair, his wrists raw, his face pale but defiant. The wound on his shoulder had reopened, a dark stain spreading through the bandage. He looked up when the door opened.
Damian stepped inside, his expression unreadable, his movements deliberate. The cold followed him in.
"You're still alive," Damian said quietly.
Matteo smirked. "You sound disappointed."
"Not yet." Damian dragged a chair across the floor and sat opposite him. "You're going to tell me everything Ricci knew."
Matteo leaned back, wincing slightly. "Ricci was a fool. He thought he could control what he didn't understand."
"Then enlighten me."
Matteo's eyes glinted. "You think this ends with Ricci? He was just another pawn. The real power—the one who's been moving against you—has been watching for years. Waiting for you to slip."
Damian's tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp. "Names."
Matteo tilted his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
Matteo's smirk faded. "It's not just one person. It's a network. Old families, new money, politicians, even your allies. They've been building something bigger than you or me. Ricci was their messenger."
Damian's jaw tightened. "And you?"
"I was their insurance."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Damian stood, pacing slowly. "You could have come to me."
Matteo laughed, bitter and low. "And say what? That your empire was rotting from the inside? You would've killed me before I finished the sentence."
"You gave them access to my routes. My accounts."
"I gave them what they already had," Matteo said. "You just didn't see it."
Damian stopped pacing. "Then tell me who leads them."
Matteo's gaze flicked up, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You already know him."
Damian froze. "Him?"
Matteo smiled faintly. "Someone you trusted more than anyone."
Before Damian could respond, the door opened.
Luca stepped in, his face grim.
"Boss, we've got a problem. One of the guards is missing. And the security feed from the east wing's been wiped."
Damian turned sharply. "When?"
"An hour ago."
Matteo chuckled. "Looks like your house isn't as secure as you thought."
Damian's glare silenced him. "Lock down the estate," he ordered Luca. "No one leaves. No one enters."
Luca nodded and left.
Damian turned back to Matteo. "If you're lying—"
"I'm not," Matteo interrupted. "You think I'd risk my life to protect them? You're in deeper than you realize, cousin. And whoever's behind this—they're not done."
Damian's voice was low, dangerous. "Then pray I find them before they find you."
He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Upstairs, the morning light spilled through the tall windows, pale and cold. Alessia stood by the glass, her reflection sharp against the brightness. She didn't hear Damian enter until his shadow fell across the floor.
"You should be resting," he said.
She turned, startled. "I couldn't sleep."
"Neither could I."
He studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Matteo's talking."
Her brow furrowed. "About what?"
"About betrayal. About someone inside the family."
Alessia's voice softened. "Do you believe him?"
"I believe nothing until I see proof."
She stepped closer, her tone steady. "Then find it. But don't lose yourself in the process."
For a moment, the cold light between them softened. Damian looked at her—really looked—and something in his eyes flickered, something human beneath the steel.
Then he turned away. "Until I know who's behind this, no one is safe."
Alessia nodded. "Then start with those who have the most to gain."
He paused at the door. "That's exactly what I intend to do."
Downstairs, in the quiet of the basement, Matteo sat alone. The faint hum of the security lights filled the silence.
He smiled faintly to himself.
Because even chained and bleeding, he knew one thing for certain—Damian Moretti was about to start a war inside his own house.