The Blade in the Family

The Blade in the Family


IZZY'S POV

I was at my desk, scanning through the latest reports, when I heard the faint click of the office door. Matteo stepped in, quiet as ever, like he always did.

“Still working?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with that familiar calmness.

“I can’t stop,” I said without looking up. “Something feels off.”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Something like what?”

“Like someone’s talking,” I said, finally meeting his eyes. “About things they shouldn’t know, about my moves, my plans, who I meet, what I approve of and little details. Things only a few people are supposed to know.”

Matteo’s face stayed neutral, but I caught the subtle tightening of his jaw. “You mean someone inside?”

I nodded, setting my pen down. “Yeah and it’s not just one incident, It’s happening more than once. People know things before they should, or they act on information they couldn’t possibly have without a leak.”

He leaned back slightly, scanning the room. “You’ve got a good eye, Izzy but be careful. It’s easy to see shadows where there aren’t any.”

“These aren't shadows,” I said sharply, my voice low but tense. “I feel it and I can’t shake it.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, holding up his hands. “Who do you suspect?”

I frowned, chewing the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know yet, everyone seems fine on the surface. Even my closest people but there’s this weight. I can feel it when I enter a room, people stiffen. Eyes dart too quickly, conversations shift. Something’s off.”

“Could be a misdirection,” Matteo said. “Someone trying to make you second-guess yourself.”

“Exactly.” I slammed my hand lightly on the desk, just enough to punctuate my point. “I don’t have time to let that happen, not when everything is at stake.”

He nodded, stepping closer, lowering his voice. “Then you test them subtle. Plant a piece of information, see how it moves. Observe reactions, not just words.”

“I already noticed a few slips,” I said. “Like the report I sent Serena last week. Thirty minutes later, someone from another family mentioned it casually, that’s too fast. There’s no way it could’ve left my office without someone inside sharing it.”

Matteo’s eyes darkened. “You can’t trust anyone completely. But you can control what you share, how you share it. Keep your circle tight, don’t let emotions drive your decisions.”

“I’m trying,” I said, rubbing my temples. “But people act normal, polite, smiling and beneath it, knives hide in the corners of those smiles. I hate that, I hate feeling like everyone’s a threat.”

“You have to get used to it,” he said gently. “Part of running this place is knowing who bends, who breaks, who whispers, and who watches. That’s the reality you’re stepping into.”

I pushed the reports aside, standing up. “Then I need to see it for myself, not hear about it, not get secondhand tips. Watch it, watch how they react when they think no one’s paying attention. I’ll know who’s nervous, who’s lying, who’s hiding something.”

He nodded again. “Then we set a trap but subtle. Keep it clever, don’t let them see the net you’re weaving. People are careful, but clever, too. One wrong move, and you’ve tipped them off.”

“I won’t,” I said firmly. “This is my family, my people. If someone betrays me, it won’t just hurt the organization. It’ll hurt me, I won’t let it happen.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice, almost a whisper. “The closer it is, the harder it cuts. Watch your heart while you watch them, don’t let it cloud your judgment.”

“I can handle it,” I said, voice steady. “I’m ready.”

He studied me for a long moment, then gave a small, approving nod. “Good. Keep your eyes open. They’re closer than you think.”

He left quietly. The click of the door echoed in the office. I let out a long breath, then picked up my pen again. Every detail mattered, every reaction mattered, every conversation and every slip. Every smile that lingered too long.

I started writing notes, connecting dots, and tracking behavior patterns. Who was too curious about certain deals. Who asked extra questions about operations they weren’t normally involved in. Who repeated things they shouldn’t have known. Each observation added to the picture.

Then I let a small piece of information slip to a trusted person, harmless, meaningless in the grand scheme and watched the reactions carefully. Within an hour, someone outside that circle brought it up in conversation with another family member. My chest tightened, that confirmed it. Someone inside was passing along information.

Matteo came back later, just leaning in the doorway, calm as ever. “Well?”

“They know,” I said, sliding the folder across my desk. “Someone’s talking.”

He picked it up, scanning the pages. “Who?”

“I’m narrowing it down,” I said. “Two slips already and it’s consistent with a few patterns I’ve been tracking. Someone is clever… but not clever enough.”

“Good,” he said, nodding. “Keep it subtle, don’t let them realize they’re being watched. They’ll adjust and cover themselves if they know you’re onto them.”

“I’ll catch them,” I said, leaning back. “I always do.”

“Then you need a plan for after,” he said. “Once you know who it is, how do you deal with them? People make mistakes, people make choices, but they don’t get second chances in this world.”

“I know,” I said, voice firm. “Once I confirm it, I act and I don’t hesitate. I protect the family, the people who trust me, and the empire my father built. Nothing comes before that.”

Matteo gave me a small smile, quiet approval. “You’ve got the fire, Izzy. Don’t let it burn out and don’t let them see that fire until it’s too late for them to react.”

“I won’t,” I said. “I’ll be ready for whoever thinks they can stab me in the back.”

We stayed in the office a little longer, quietly going over subtle tests I could run. I suggested small things, misinformation, controlled leaks, watching responses. He added strategies, cautions, advice about reading people, understanding microexpressions, and knowing when to push and when to pull back. Every suggestion felt like a weapon in my hands.

When he finally left, I turned back to my reports. I went over every name again. Every deal, every meeting, every piece of information that had shifted.

My eyes scanned for inconsistencies, connections, patterns. I started marking susp
icious movements, cryptic phrases, odd reactions. I had to know what was going on.