Chapter 26: CHAPTER 26 – POV LILIANNA

Time didn’t move in Matteo’s office.

It stalled, thickened, stretched itself into something cruel and suffocating.

I paced the length of the room again, and again, and again—each turn sharper, each breath tighter.

He’d left with blood on his collar and a promise in his voice.

And I’d let him.

“Damn it,” I whispered, pushing both hands into my hair. The trembling wouldn’t stop.

The dock phone call still replayed in my mind. The tension in Matteo’s jaw. The way his eyes darkened when Petrov mentioned me. When he mentioned the past. When he alluded to something Matteo had done—some “mistake” that wasn’t truly a mistake but a wound that hadn’t healed.

Or couldn’t.

Whatever it was, Matteo had hidden it. Not out of malice. Out of fear.

Fear of losing me.

My stomach twisted again.

“Momma?”

Callum’s small voice pulled me back.

He stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, curls a wild halo.

I knelt immediately. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re supposed to be asleep.”

“You’re sad,” he said simply.

Children always see the truth before adults do.

I swallowed hard and cupped his cheek. “A little, yeah.”

“Is it because of Matteo?”

The question hit me harder than any bullet could have.

“Yes,” I whispered. “But not because he did something wrong.”

“Then why?”

I pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Because when you care about someone… it’s scary. And Matteo’s doing something dangerous, so I’m scared for him.”

Callum wrapped tiny arms around my neck. “He’s strong. He won’t lose.”

I let out a shaky laugh that wasn’t a laugh at all. My son believed in him completely. And it terrified me how much I was beginning to believe in him too.

“Come on,” I said softly. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“No,” he mumbled sleepily. “I wanna stay with you.”

So I let him stay.

I sat in Matteo’s office chair and held Callum in my lap, his breaths soft and warm against my neck. The room smelled faintly of Matteo—cedar, clean soap, and cold steel. It should have comforted me.

Instead, it reminded me how empty everything felt without him in it.

Minutes passed. Or hours. I didn’t know.

Then a knock broke the silence.

I stiffened. Callum tightened in my arms.

The door opened slowly—and Nico stepped in.

His face was carved from stone. Jaw tense. Eyes harder than I’d ever seen.

“Where is he?” I demanded.

“Dockside meeting.”

“I know that,” I snapped. “But why is he there alone? What did Petrov say? What aren't any of you telling me?”

Nico dragged a hand down his face and looked away.

That wasn’t like him. Nico was unflinching. Unapologetic. He didn’t avoid eye contact unless something was very wrong.

“Matteo made his choice,” Nico said finally. “He told all of us to stand down. Said he’d go alone.”

“That’s suicide,” I whispered.

Nico gave me a sharp, bitter smile. “No. Matteo doesn’t die. Everyone else does.”

The chill that ran through me had nothing to do with fear.

It was prophecy.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. “There’s more. Tell me.”

Nico hesitated. Another bad sign.

“Petrov knows something,” he said quietly. “Something about the past. Something Matteo… didn’t want you to know this way.”

I felt my pulse spike. “About me?”

“No.”

He paused.

“About Callum.”

My blood froze.

“What about him?” I demanded.

Nico’s jaw tightened. “I’m not the one who should say it.”

“No,” I hissed. “You will say it.”

Callum stirred slightly in my arms.

Nico’s eyes softened—the closest thing to sympathy I’d ever seen on him. “It’s about where you were three years ago. Where Matteo was. And something that happened that night.”

My heart squeezed painfully.

Something was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

“Nico,” I whispered, “please.”

He shook his head. “I’ll tell you this much: Matteo’s been carrying the guilt of that night like a chain around his neck. And he’s ready to die for it if he has to.”

A sick wave rolled through me.

“What… guilt?” My voice cracked.

Nico stayed silent.

And that silence told me everything.

Matteo thought he didn’t deserve me. Didn’t deserve Callum. Thought he’d ruined something, broken something, destroyed something essential.

But what?

My breath shuddered out of me. I couldn’t sit here. Couldn’t wait. Couldn’t breathe.

Callum was asleep again by the time Nico gently lifted him from my arms and carried him to the guest room.

I followed, kissed my son’s forehead, and tucked him in. He looked so peaceful. Innocent. Unaware of the storm building outside.

A storm Matteo walked into alone.

No.

That wasn’t happening.

Not tonight.

Not ever again.

I turned. “I’m going to him.”

Nico blocked me instantly. “Lilianna—no.”

“Move.”

“You don’t understand—”

“You think I’m going to stay here while Petrov threatens him? While Matteo faces him alone? You think I’ll lose him like I lost Silas?” My voice cracked in half. “Move, Nico.”

For a long moment, he studied me.

Really studied me.

And then something resigned flickered in his eyes.

“You’re going to go no matter what I say.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re going to walk into danger.”

“Yes.”

“And Matteo will kill me if you get hurt.”

“Yes,” I said again.

He blew out a sharp breath. “Fine. But if we’re doing this… we do it my way.”

I nodded.

“Grab what you need,” he said. “Five minutes.”

I didn’t hesitate. I strapped on Matteo’s backup holster. Loaded the pistol Matteo insisted I learn to use. Pulled on Silas’s old leather jacket—the one he’d thrown over my shoulders when I was fourteen and freezing on the rooftop after sneaking out.

For courage.

For protection.

For memory.

Nico met me by the stairs. “Car’s ready.”

“Let’s go,” I said.

He grabbed my wrist—tight, urgent. “Lilianna.”

“What?”

“Whatever happens tonight… nothing is the way it seems. And whatever Matteo tells you—it wasn’t his fault.”

Something trembled in me.

The truth.

It was coming for us.

We left through the back entrance, climbing into a black SUV with tinted windows. Nico drove, jaw clenched, eyes scanning every corner, every shadow.

The night was silent except for the pounding of my heart.

“Tell me one thing,” I said quietly.

He didn’t look at me. “Depends.”

“Is Petrov using the past to break Matteo?”

“Yes.”

“And whatever Petrov is holding over him… is it about Callum’s father?”

Nico’s grip on the wheel tightened so hard the leather creaked.

“Lilianna—”

“Is it?” I pressed.

Nico’s silence was the loudest yes I had ever heard.

My breath left my lungs in a shaking gasp.

Matteo.

Dockside.

Alone.

Facing Petrov.

Facing a truth he’d buried for three years.

And I understood the sick twist in my gut.

Petrov wasn’t just trying to kill him.

He was trying to destroy him.

The SUV swerved sharply onto the road leading to the docks—desolate, unlit, stretching toward the water like a spine of broken bones.

“Hold on,” Nico warned.

Fog curled around us.

Wind whipped across the water.

The docks loomed in the distance, washed in cold moonlight.

Somewhere out there, Matteo stood alone.

And Petrov was waiting.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

“Faster,” I whispered.

Nico nodded grimly and floored it.

The engine roared.

The docks drew closer.

A gunshot cracked through the night—sharp, echoing.

My entire body lurched.

“Matteo,” I breathed.

I didn’t wait for the car to stop.

I just ran.

Into the fog.

Into the cold.

Into the dark.

Toward him.

Always toward him.