Chapter 89: Who's the enemy

The car slowed as we turned onto a narrow road hidden behind tall concrete walls. Armed guards stood at the gate, their eyes sharp, fingers resting close to their triggers. The air around the place felt thick, heavy, like it carried secrets and blood in equal measure.

My heart beat harder with every meter we moved forward.

This was enemy territory.

I sat straight in the back seat, my hands resting on my thighs, my face calm even though my chest felt tight. Fear was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Not here. Not today.

The gate opened slowly, metal grinding against metal. Inside, the compound was wide and clean, too calm for a place owned by men who destroyed lives without blinking. Expensive cars lined the driveway. Guards were everywhere. On balconies, by doors, on rooftops. Each one tracking our movement.

“Relax,” Marco muttered beside me. “They won’t touch you.”

“That’s what you hope,” I replied quietly.

The car stopped in front of a massive building made of dark stone and glass. It looked more like a fortress than a home. As soon as the engine shut off, two guards stepped forward, opening the doors.

I got out, heels clicking softly against the pavement.

Inside, the building smelled faintly of polished wood and expensive cologne. Everything screamed power. Money. Control. The kind of place built to intimidate before a single word was spoken.

We were led through long hallways until we reached tall double doors. One of the guards knocked once, then pushed them open.

My first thought was how quiet the room was.

The second was how dangerous the man sitting behind the desk looked.

He leaned back in his chair, one hand resting casually on the armrest, the other tapping slowly against dark wood. His eyes lifted the moment I stepped inside.

Cold. Sharp. Calculating.

This was the enemy.

Dante Moretti.

The man responsible for the death of my uncle. The man who had been trying to tear my family apart for the past two years. The man who now wanted to meet me face-to-face.

I met his stare without hesitation.

“Leave us,” Dante said calmly.

The guards hesitated for half a second before stepping outside and closing the doors behind them.

The silence stretched between us.

He studied me openly, his gaze slow and deliberate, like he was dissecting every detail. I didn’t flinch.

“You don’t look like I imagined,” he said at last.

“And you look exactly like I expected,” I replied. “Arrogant and overconfident.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “Interesting.”

I walked forward until I stood across from his desk. “Let’s skip the pointless inspection. You asked to see me. I came. Speak.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Straight to business. I respect that.”

“Good. Because I don’t have time for games.”

Dante leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Your family has been interfering with my operations.”

“You mean stopping your shipments, exposing your routes, and burning down your warehouses?” I tilted my head. “Yes. We have.”

A low chuckle left him. “Bold.”

“Necessary.”

“Costly,” he corrected. “For both sides.”

I crossed my arms. “Then why am I here?”

“Because war drains resources. And attention. And I’m tired of cleaning up messes.”

“So you want peace?”

“I want control.”

My lips curved slightly. “Of course you do.”

Dante stood, circling the desk slowly until he stopped in front of me. He was taller than I expected, broad-shouldered, his presence filling the room without effort.

“You’re smarter than your brothers,” he said. “And far more dangerous.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” He paused. “I want an alliance.”

The word hung between us.

I laughed softly. “You killed my uncle.”

“He crossed a line.”

“You burned our ports.”

“Retaliation.”

“You ordered hits on my cousins.”

“They survived.”

“That wasn’t mercy.”

Dante’s jaw tightened. “No. It wasn’t.”

“Then you seriously think I’d work with you?”

“I think you understand strategy.” His voice lowered. “Together, we would own half this country.”

I stepped closer. “And what happens when you decide I’m no longer useful?”

He met my gaze steadily. “Then I’d be honest about it.”

“Wow,” I muttered. “How comforting.”

Silence settled again.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I watched him carefully, searching for cracks, for signs of weakness. But Dante was built like a wall. Solid. Unmoving.

“You didn’t come here for an alliance,” I said finally.

A slow smile appeared. “No.”

“Then what?”

“I came to see if the rumors were true.”

“And?”

“They were.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Which rumors?”

“That Lyra De Luca is the real power behind her family.”

A pulse of tension went through me, but I kept my face blank.

“Power is earned,” I said. “Not whispered about.”

“You earned it.” His gaze sharpened. “Which makes you a threat.”

“Then kill me.”

He studied me for a long second. “Not yet.”

I exhaled slowly. “You’re wasting my time.”

Dante stepped aside, motioning toward a side door. “Walk with me.”

Against my better judgment, I followed.

The hallway led to a balcony overlooking the city. Night had fallen, and lights glittered in the distance like scattered stars. The wind was cool against my skin.

“Everything you see belongs to someone,” Dante said quietly. “And everyone answers to someone else. Power is an illusion. Control is the truth.”

I leaned against the railing. “Spare me the philosophy.”

He turned toward me. “Your family is strong. Loyal. But limited. You’re boxed in by tradition. Old rules. Old enemies.”

“And you’re not?”

“I make my own rules.”

I laughed softly. “So did every tyrant in history.”

His lips twitched. “Still, they ruled.”

I straightened. “What exactly do you want from me?”

He hesitated, just for a second. “A temporary truce. Six months. No attacks. No sabotage. Shared information.”

“And in return?”

“I back off your territory. All of it.”

My breath caught slightly before I forced it steady.

“That’s a big promise,” I said carefully.

“I keep my word.”

“I doubt that.”

“Test it.”

I turned to face him fully. “You think I’d trust the man who murdered my blood?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I think you’d do what’s best for your family.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

Because he was right.

Every move I made, every decision, every risk, was for them.

I looked away. “Six months.”

“Yes.”

“And after that?”

“We renegotiate.”

I scoffed. “Or kill each other.”

“Probably.”

The honesty surprised me.

I considered it in silence. Six months of peace could stabilize our ports, rebuild damaged routes, strengthen alliances. It could save lives. On both sides.

But trusting Dante Moretti was like stepping into a trap and hoping it wouldn’t close.

“I’ll think about it,” I said finally.

“That’s all I ask.”

We stood there, the city stretching beneath us, the weight of unspoken threats heavy in the air.

“This doesn’t make us allies,” I said.

“No,” he agreed. “Just enemies who aren’t killing each other. For now.”

I turned and walked back toward the door.

“Lyra,” Dante called.

I paused.

“Be careful,” he said. “Not everyone in your family wants peace.”

I glanced back, meeting his gaze. “Neither do yours.”