The storm had been building for weeks, a tension that seeped into every corner of the DeLuca estate, humming beneath the chandeliers and behind the polished marble walls. It began as whispers, subtle shifts in loyalty that most would dismiss as paranoia. But Luca had ruled too long, fought too many wars, and buried too many enemies to ignore the signs. And yet, he didn’t know the rot was growing inside his own blood. Matteo DeLuca sat in the dim corner of a luxury penthouse on the edge of Milan, swirling a glass of scotch he hadn’t touched. The room smelled of money and menace, cigar smoke curling through the air, leather chairs arranged in a semi-circle, and the kind of silence that only men with too much power and too much blood on their hands could command. Across from him, Don Emilio Ricci, patriarch of the Ricci family and one of the most ruthless old-guard bosses still standing, leaned forward with a grin that never reached his eyes. "So, it’s true. The little Valencia girl is more than she seems." Matteo forced a smirk, though his stomach churned. "Not just more. She’s the key to everything. The Conti fortune, the old alliances, the Council’s votes, they all become hers if she claims her birthright. And Luca..." He paused, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Luca will become untouchable with her at his side." Ricci laughed, a low, dangerous sound. "And you don’t like that." Matteo’s jaw clenched. "I built half that empire with him. I’ve fought his wars. Bled for his name. And yet, when the dust settles, it’s always Luca the Council bows to. Luca the men follow. And now, she walks in and he would burn the world for her." "Love makes men weak," another voice said from Matteo’s right, Don Santino Bellini, who controlled half the drug ports in Naples. "It blinds them. And a blind Don is a dead Don." Matteo’s lips curved. "Exactly. And while he’s busy playing the devoted husband, we’ll take everything that matters." Emilio raised an eyebrow. "So what do you propose?" "Two options," Matteo said, leaning forward now, his eyes gleaming with something dark. "We either control Aria, use her bloodline to legitimize a new council with us at the head or we kill her and plunge the DeLuca empire into chaos. Either way, Luca loses." Silence fell, heavy and expectant. Then Ricci chuckled again. "Ambitious, ragazzo. Dangerous. But I like dangerous." Matteo’s heart pounded in his chest, part exhilaration, part fear. He knew the risk of what he was doing, treason against his brother, betrayal that would damn him if discovered. But the envy that had festered for years had finally rotted into something else. Something that felt like destiny. Because in Matteo’s mind, Luca had stolen everything, their father’s legacy, the Council’s respect, and now the one woman Matteo had never meant to want but couldn’t stop thinking about. Aria. He told himself it wasn’t about her, that she was merely a pawn in a larger game. But even as he plotted her downfall, an image of her eyes burning with fire, lips parted in defiance haunted him. And that made his resolve harder, sharper. If he couldn’t have her, then Luca wouldn’t either. Back at the DeLuca estate, Aria stood by the balcony overlooking the southern gardens, the autumn wind tugging at her hair. Everything had changed since she’d learned the truth about her lineage. The Conti blood that ran in her veins was both shield and target. In the days since that revelation, messengers had arrived bearing thinly veiled threats, offers disguised as alliances, and warnings she wasn’t sure she could trust. And Luca... Luca had become even more vigilant. He had doubled the security detail, rerouted trade shipments to safer ports, and cancelled two major meetings with Council allies he suddenly "didn’t trust." It was the side of him she both feared and respected, the ruthless Don who planned three steps ahead. But there was something else beneath that steel exterior now, a tension that wouldn’t leave his eyes, a shadow that followed him from room to room. "Luca," she said softly as he entered the terrace. "You haven’t slept." He smirked faintly. "Neither have you." She turned back to the horizon. "Do you think they’ll come for me?" He didn’t lie. "Yes." The wind carried the honesty between them like a blade. "They won’t stop at threats," Luca continued, stepping closer. "The Riccis, the Bellinis, the Vitale remnants, they’ve spent decades clawing for what your bloodline represents. They’ll either try to marry into it, control it... or eliminate it." "And Matteo?" she asked before she could stop herself. The question hung in the air. Luca stiffened slightly, his expression unreadable. "Matteo is my brother." "That’s not an answer." He sighed, his jaw tightening. "He’s... distant lately. Distracted. I’ve asked him to oversee security in the southern docks and he keeps deferring it to others. Meetings he once handled personally, he now avoids. And yesterday, one of our informants saw him leaving a Bellini-owned hotel." Aria’s breath caught. "Do you think he’s...?" "I don’t know," Luca interrupted sharply. "And I won’t accuse my own blood without proof." But the steel in his voice couldn’t hide the truth: he did suspect something. And it was killing him. Aria reached for his hand, surprising even herself. "We’ll figure it out," she said quietly. "Whatever this is, whoever’s behind it, we’ll face it together." Luca’s eyes softened at her words, and for a moment the Don faded and the man beneath remained, the man who had held her through nightmares and kissed her like she was his salvation. "Together," he repeated. But deep down, he knew together might not be enough. That night, Matteo stood in the old chapel on the outskirts of the city, a place where secrets were whispered and blood pacts sealed. The Riccis and Bellinis had brought others this time: the remnants of the fallen Vitale clan, a few disillusioned DeLuca lieutenants, and men who had sworn loyalty to no one but money. "Are we agreed then?" Ricci asked, his gold ring glinting as he extended his hand. "We move before the Conti girl consolidates power." Matteo hesitated only a moment before clasping it. "We move." Santino smirked. "And the Don?" Matteo’s throat tightened, but he forced his voice steady. "Leave Luca to me." There it was, the unspoken truth made real. He had crossed a line now. This wasn’t scheming in shadows. This was treason. As the meeting dispersed, Matteo remained behind, staring at the flickering candles on the altar. The chapel smelled of wax and decay, but it was the ghosts in his own chest that suffocated him. He remembered the nights he and Luca had shared a room as children, Luca reading strategy books by candlelight while Matteo snuck out to chase girls. He remembered how Luca had dragged him out of a warehouse when a deal Matteo botched nearly got him killed. He remembered the first time he saw Aria, fire in her eyes, defiance in her spine and how, even then, Luca had looked at her like she was his world. "Forgive me," Matteo whispered into the empty chapel. "But I can’t live in your shadow anymore." The following evening, Luca stood in his private office, scanning the latest intelligence reports with a growing sense of unease. Three separate arms shipments had been intercepted in the last week shipments only a handful of people knew about. One of their safehouses in Florence had been raided. And now, two of his most trusted captains had gone silent. This wasn’t coincidence. It was strategy. "Someone is feeding them our movements," Luca muttered, his voice like flint. Aria, seated on the edge of his desk, frowned. "The Council?" "No. Too sloppy. They’re testing the perimeter poking for weaknesses. This is closer." He tapped the papers. "Too close." Her heart stuttered. "Matteo?" Luca’s silence was answer enough. He turned away, raking a hand through his hair. "I don’t want to believe it. He’s my brother. My blood. But if he’s working with them..." "Then we stop him," Aria finished. He looked at her, and something in his chest cracked open. This woman, this woman who had once been his enemy, his hostage, now stood beside him not as a pawn but as a queen. "Do you trust me?" he asked suddenly. "With my life," she whispered. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢•𝕟𝕖𝕥 "Then stay close," he said, stepping toward her, his hands finding her waist. "No matter what happens next, you stay where I can protect you. If Matteo’s turned, he won’t come for me first. He’ll come for you." Her breath hitched. "Then let him." Luca’s eyes darkened. "Aria..." "I’m not hiding," she said firmly. "If they want me, let them see exactly who they’re dealing with. I’m not some frightened girl anymore. I’m Conti blood. And I’m your wife." The fire in her voice ignited something deep in him, pride, fear, love so fierce it hurt. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead, lingering there like a vow. "Then we fight. Together." But Matteo was already three steps ahead. In a shadowed warehouse on the outskirts of Naples, he watched crates of weapons being loaded into unmarked trucks. These weren’t just any weapons, they were DeLuca stock, rerouted under his orders and sold to their enemies. With each shipment, he bled Luca’s empire dry and armed the very people who would one day turn on his brother. One of Ricci’s men approached. "The Bellinis want confirmation the girl will be delivered." Matteo’s jaw tightened. "She will. When the time is right." Matteo’s gaze hardened. "Luca won’t see it coming until it’s too late." But deep down, in a place he refused to acknowledge, a voice whispered that maybe, just maybe, he wanted Luca to stop him. Back at the estate, Luca stared at a single piece of paper on his desk, a shipping manifest from a warehouse he hadn’t authorized. It bore Matteo’s signature. The blood roared in his ears. Betrayal. Not whispered. Not suspected. Confirmed. Aria entered, sensing the tension before he spoke. "What happened?" Luca handed her the paper, his jaw locked. "He’s working with them." The room spun around her. "Matteo..." The weight of it crashed over them both betrayal not from without, but from within. And not just betrayal. A declaration of war. Luca crossed to the window, staring into the night like it held answers. "It’s one thing to fight enemies you can see. But this..." He exhaled slowly. "This is a knife in the dark." Aria’s heart pounded, a mix of anger and dread. "Then we pull it out before it reaches the heart." He turned to her, and in his eyes was a storm unlike any she’d seen before. "Then we end this. No more half-measures. No more waiting." As the night deepened, plans began to form dangerous, ruthless plans to smoke out the traitor hiding under their roof. The war for power, for blood, for love itself was no longer looming on the horizon. It had already begun. And the most dangerous enemy wasn’t waiting outside their gates. He shared Luca’s blood. And he was coming for everything.