The Moretti estate was quiet again, but it was the kind of quiet that came before a storm.
The rain had stopped, leaving the gardens slick and glistening under the pale morning light. Damian stood in the courtyard, the damp air heavy with the scent of gun oil and smoke.
Luca approached from the main hall, his expression grim. "The men from the docks are dead. Whoever was left behind didn't make it through the night."
Damian didn't look surprised. "The Circle cleans its mess."
"They also left something behind." Luca handed him a small flash drive sealed in plastic. "Found it in one of the crates before the police arrived."
Damian took it, turning it over in his hand. "Get Matteo."
Minutes later, Matteo was brought into the study. His wrists were free now, but two guards lingered by the door. He looked thinner, his eyes shadowed by sleepless nights.
Damian plugged the flash drive into the computer. The screen flickered, then filled with lines of encrypted code.
Matteo stepped closer, scanning it. "This isn't just data. It's a ledger—names, dates, payments. Someone inside your network has been feeding The Circle information for months."
Luca's jaw tightened. "Who?"
Matteo hesitated. "You're not going to like it."
"Say it," Damian ordered.
Matteo's voice was quiet. "Rocco."
The room fell silent. Luca's eyes widened.
"That's impossible. Rocco's been with us since your father's time."
"That's why it worked," Matteo said. "No one questions the loyal ones."
Damian's expression didn't change, but his hand clenched into a fist. "Where is he now?"
"Left before dawn," Luca said. "Said he was checking the southern checkpoints."
Damian's voice dropped to a whisper. "He's not coming back."
He turned to Matteo. "You said you owed my father. Prove it. Find out where Rocco's gone."
Matteo nodded, already moving toward the door.
When he was gone, Luca exhaled sharply. "If Rocco's turned, then The Circle knows everything—our routes, our safehouses, even Alessia."
Damian's gaze darkened. "Then we move her. Tonight."
He walked to the window, staring out at the gray horizon. "My father trusted Rocco with his life. If he's betrayed us, then this war started long before I took the throne."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
By nightfall, the estate was in motion. Guards rotated, vehicles fueled, orders whispered through the halls. Alessia watched from the staircase, her hands clasped tightly. She could feel the shift—the way the air itself seemed to hum with danger.
Damian appeared at the base of the stairs, his coat draped over one arm. "Pack a bag," he said. "You're leaving with Luca."
Her brow furrowed. "Why? What's happening?"
"Insurance," he said simply. "Until I know who's left to trust."
She stepped closer, her voice trembling. "And you?"
"I have to finish what my father started."
Before she could answer, Matteo returned, breathless. "We found him. Rocco's at the old monastery outside the city."
Damian's eyes narrowed. "The same one from the docks."
Matteo nodded. "He's not alone."
Damian reached for his gun, sliding it into the holster beneath his coat. "Then it ends tonight."
Luca moved to follow, but Damian stopped him with a look. "Stay with Alessia. If I'm not back by dawn, you take her and disappear."
Luca's voice was low. "You're walking into a trap."
Damian gave a faint, cold smile. "I know."
He turned toward the door.
The Circle had drawn first blood. Now Damian Moretti was ready to return the favor.
And somewhere in the shadows of the monastery, the crimson mask was waiting.