20

The night air was thick with the stench of blood and gunpowder as we moved through the ruins of Moretti’s compound. My father was weak, barely able to stand, but I wasn’t letting go. Dante walked beside me, gun still in hand, scanning the darkness for any remaining threats. His men covered our exit, moving with practiced efficiency, bodies littering the ground behind them.

This was war.

And we had won this battle.

But I knew better than to believe it was over.

Dante pressed his fingers to his earpiece. “Luca, are we clear?”

Luca’s voice crackled back. “Perimeter secure. No survivors.”

Dante nodded, his grip tightening around his gun. “We’re moving out.”

I exhaled shakily, shifting under my father’s weight. “We need to get him out of here.”

Dante’s gaze flicked to me, then to my father, who was barely conscious. He pressed his lips together, nodding once. “We have a medical team waiting at the safe house.”

I didn’t question it. There wasn’t time for that.

Dante signaled to his men, and within minutes, we were loading into the SUVs. The second I settled in the back seat, my father’s head slumped against my shoulder. My breath caught, my hands gripping his arm.

“Dad?”

His eyelids fluttered. “I’m… okay.” His voice was hoarse, barely there.

I wasn’t convinced.

I turned to Dante. “Drive.”

He didn’t hesitate.

The car lurched forward, speeding down the darkened roads. My fingers clenched around my father’s hand, my heart hammering against my ribs. I should have felt relieved.

Instead, all I felt was dread.

Because if Moretti’s men had been ready for us—if they had taken my father knowing we would come—then that meant someone had tipped them off.

Someone inside Dante’s circle.

And if there was a traitor among us…

Then the war was far from over.

We reached the safe house within the hour. The second we pulled into the secured lot, Dante’s men were already moving, clearing the area, securing the perimeter. The tension was suffocating, a silent understanding that we weren’t safe yet.

I barely registered the medical team as they pulled my father from the car, rushing him inside. I followed, my pulse pounding, my hands slick with sweat.

The doctor—a stern-looking man with graying hair—glanced up at me. “He’s stable, but he needs rest. We’ll monitor him.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

Dante stepped up beside me, his presence a solid force in the chaos. “He’s safe for now.”

I exhaled sharply, trying to steady myself. “For now.”

Dante studied me, his gaze unreadable. “You did good tonight.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “I almost got him killed.”

Dante tilted his head, his smirk slow, deliberate. “But you didn’t.”

I let out a shaky breath, turning away. “There’s a leak, Dante.”

Silence.

Then...

“I know.”

I turned back to him, my stomach twisting. “You knew?”

His jaw tightened. “I suspected.”

My hands clenched into fists. “And you didn’t think to mention that?”

Dante sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I needed confirmation.”

I shook my head. “So what? You were just waiting for them to make a move? Using my father as bait?”

His expression darkened. “I would have never let them kill him, Olivia.”

I scoffed. “That’s not the point.”

Dante stepped closer, his presence suffocating. “Then what is?”

I swallowed hard, my pulse spiking. “You don’t get to make those choices for me.”

His smirk was sharp, dangerous. “I just did.”

Anger burned through me, hot and consuming. “You think you can control everything, don’t you?”

Dante leaned in, his voice low, lethal. “I control what I have to.”

My breath hitched.

For a second—just a second—I forgot why I was angry.

Because all I could see was him.

The tension between us crackled like electricity, like a storm waiting to break.

Then, before I could react, Dante’s phone rang.

He stepped back, answering it with a clipped, “Talk.”

I turned away, trying to gather my thoughts.

Then I heard it.

Dante’s voice dropped, his entire body going rigid.

“What?”

My stomach clenched.

Luca’s voice came through the speaker, urgent. “We found the leak.”

Dante’s grip on the phone tightened. “Who?”

A pause.

Then...

“You’re not going to like it.”

Dante’s expression darkened. “Tell me.”

Luca exhaled sharply. “It’s someone close.”

I took a step forward, my heart racing.

Dante’s eyes flickered to mine, something dangerous swirling beneath the surface.

“Then let’s deal with it.”

Because now, it wasn’t just about survival.

It was about revenge.

The room was silent except for the low hum of the city outside. The weight of Luca’s words settled over me like ice creeping through my veins. There was a traitor among us. Someone close. Someone who had fed Moretti’s men information, nearly getting my father killed.

Dante’s grip on his phone was tight, his knuckles turning white. His expression was carved from stone, his gray eyes dark and lethal. “Who is it?”

Luca hesitated, and that single second of silence made my stomach churn.

Finally, he exhaled. “Matteo.”

Everything inside me stilled.

Matteo.

One of Dante’s most trusted men. A soldier who had been by his side for years.

Dante didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He barely even breathed.

Then, in a voice that sent a shiver down my spine, he said, “Where is he?”

Luca’s voice was tense. “Warehouse downtown. We have him locked down. Waiting on you.”

Dante ended the call without another word. He turned, his expression unreadable, but there was something cold in his gaze. Something final.

I swallowed hard. “You’re going to kill him.”

Dante didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

I stepped closer, my voice quieter now. “You trusted him.”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t make that mistake twice.”

He moved toward the door, his presence a force of nature, something unstoppable.

I grabbed his wrist. “I’m coming with you.”

Dante stopped, tilting his head slightly, as if deciding whether or not to argue.

Then, he smirked. “Try to keep up.”

The drive to the warehouse was suffocatingly quiet.

Dante’s hands gripped the wheel, his entire body coiled tight, controlled fury radiating from him like heat. I knew that look. It was the same one he’d had before he pulled the trigger on Moretti.

I wasn’t sure Matteo was going to make it out of this alive.

The warehouse loomed ahead, steel and shadows blending into the night. Dante’s men were already stationed outside, weapons drawn, standing guard.

Luca met us at the entrance. His expression was grim. “He’s inside.”

Dante nodded, pushing forward without hesitation.

I followed, my heartbeat an erratic drum against my ribs.

Inside, Matteo was on his knees, hands bound behind his back, blood staining the collar of his shirt. He was breathing hard, his lip split, bruises forming along his cheekbone.

But when he lifted his head and saw Dante, he didn’t flinch.

He smiled.

Dante stopped a few feet away, tilting his head. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your skull right now.”

Matteo let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “I was wondering when you’d figure it out.”

Dante’s jaw flexed. He pulled his gun, aiming it directly at Matteo’s forehead.

I stepped forward before I could stop myself. “Dante."

His voice was cold. “Not now, Olivia.”

Matteo’s smirk didn’t fade. “You always thought you were untouchable, Castelli.”

Dante’s finger hovered over the trigger. “And yet, you’re the one bleeding on the floor.”

Matteo exhaled. “That’s because I lost. But it doesn’t matter. Because you still don’t see it, do you?”

A flicker of something dangerous passed through Dante’s expression. “See what?”

Matteo grinned, blood staining his teeth. “That you’re next.”

A sharp silence filled the air.

My stomach twisted.

Dante didn’t react. He didn’t move. He just stared at Matteo with that same unreadable expression.

Then, he said, “Who else?”

Matteo chuckled. “You think I’m going to tell you?”

Dante pressed the barrel against his skull. “Yes.”

The tension was suffocating.

Matteo licked his split lip, tilting his head slightly. “You can kill me, Castelli. But it won’t change anything. You took out Moretti, but he was just one piece. You think you own this city? You’re about to find out who really runs it.”

Dante’s grip tightened around the gun. “Names.”

Matteo smirked. “Go to hell.”

Dante smiled. “You first.”

And then...

A single gunshot echoed through the warehouse.

Matteo slumped forward, blood pooling beneath him.

I inhaled sharply, my body frozen.

Dante exhaled, lowering the gun, his expression blank. “No loose ends.”

Luca stepped forward, nudging Matteo’s body with his boot before turning to Dante. “What now?”

Dante’s gaze flickered to me.

And for the first time, I saw it.

Doubt.

Uncertainty.

Because Matteo had said something that got under his skin.

Something that made him hesitate.

Dante turned to Luca. “Burn the body.”

Luca nodded, already barking orders to the men.

Dante walked toward me, his gun still in hand, his expression calm. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t move.

Not yet.

Because something didn’t feel right.

I swallowed hard. “What if he was telling the truth?”

Dante’s smirk was slow, dark. “Then we find out.”

I exhaled, nodding, forcing my legs to move, forcing myself to push past the unease curling inside me.

But as we left the warehouse, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Matteo’s death wasn’t the end of something.

It was the beginning.

And whatever was coming next.

It was going to be worse.