Matteo's pov
The first thing I noticed was the silence.Not the one that had settled ever since our argument with Eli.No.This was different.It wasn’t normal. Not for this house. Not for my family. Silence wasn’t peace, it was a threat waiting to breathe.Something was wrong.I stood in the hallway, one hand on my phone, the other brushing against the gun holstered beneath my jacket. I’d just finished a call with one of the border teams they had seen something strange, a flicker in the security feed that they couldn’t explain.Then the lights went out.The entire compound plunged into pitch black.“Fuck.” I spun around, already barking into my comms. “Talk to me. What just happened? I want eyes everywhere, now—”No response.Not static. Not garbled voices.Nothing.Dead.Then came the explosion.It shook the east wing like thunder crackingEli's pov“Bomb!”That was all I managed before everything became chaos.Chairs screeched. Shouts rose I grabbed Luca’s arm and yanked hard, pulling him down with me just as a deafening blast ripped through the far side of the dining room.The window shattered into flame. A wave of heat surged, washing over us. I tasted blood, smoke, and dust all at once as I hit the ground, half on top of Luca. My ears rang so loud the world went silent.The chandelier above us groaned.Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t—It crashed down.Luca rolled us aside and I felt the whoosh of it missing us by inches. Matteo was across the room, still over Giorgio’s bloody body, shielding it with his own like muscle memory took over even if he hated the man’s guts.Glass. Screams. The thick stench of burning wood and cloth.I pushed myself up, blinking through the smoke. The fire was spreading fast along the curtains and tablecloths. Somewhere behind us, one of the guards was yelling into a walkie-talkie.“Secure t
Eli's pov He stared at me like I was a riddle that didn’t deserve solving.Luca’s father.Don Emilio Rossi.The head iof the family. The man who disappeared from the public eye years ago, handing the reins to Luca and Matteo after a lifetime of leading with iron fists and loaded guns. I’d seen pictures. But up close… he was something else.His face was ageless in that eerie, dangerous way some old men were. Sharp lines, silver hair, but eyes that had never softened. The kind of eyes that could watch a man burn and still check the time.“So,” he said again, taking one step closer. “You’re the boy we didn’t finish.”My spine stiffened. I didn’t answer. My throat was tight, words locked in my throat refusing to come out.He smirked like he could hear my silence loud and clear. “You’ve got the Moretti eyes. I should’ve known. Your brother hides like a coward behind guns and mercenaries, but you—” he tilted his head, “—you walk into my house wearing my son’s loyalty like a suit.”I clench
Eli's pov The air was still heavy with the stench of smoke, blood and betrayal.I stood in the backyard, shirt half soaked, trembling from the cold and heart thundering like war drums. The house—our house—looked like a war zone. Glass crunched under my boots. The rossi’s men were still carrying out the last of the bodies and my ears rang with the echoes of gunfire. It didn’t feel like a victory. Not when someone had helped them get in. Not when Silas knew every blind spot.Luca stood near the shattered balcony doors, hands in his pockets, lips tight with thought. The moon shone it's silver glow in him but it couldn’t soften the fire in his eyes.“I think we need to go back,” he said finally, voice low and precise.I turned to him. “Back where?”“To Italy. To the Rossi estate.”I blinked. The Rossi estate? I hadn’t even known it still existed. I thought they’d moved on from the old ways become modern, slick, untouchable.
Eli's povThe house was dark.I heard the explosion before I felt it.The house trembled, shaking the walls like a nightmare knocking on the door. The safe room was filled with silence, heavy, suffocating silence but I knew outside, chaos was unfolding.My heart pounded, louder than any siren, louder than any shout. I was trapped in a steel box, walls designed to keep me safe but it felt like a cage.Ricardo’s voice came through the comms, tense but firm.“We’re holding the line, Eli. Stay put. Don’t open the door for anyone. No matter what. Unless it's either Luca, Matteo or me.”I nodded, though no one could see me. My fingers traced the cold edge of the countertop, to try and ground myself to the only solid thing around me.Then came the screams.Not many just a few but close enough that my stomach turned.They’re inside.I swallowed hard, the weight of it pressing down like a physi
Matteo's povThe first thing I noticed was the silence.Not the one that had settled ever since our argument with Eli.No.This was different.It wasn’t normal. Not for this house. Not for my family. Silence wasn’t peace, it was a threat waiting to breathe.Something was wrong.I stood in the hallway, one hand on my phone, the other brushing against the gun holstered beneath my jacket. I’d just finished a call with one of the border teams they had seen something strange, a flicker in the security feed that they couldn’t explain.Then the lights went out.The entire compound plunged into pitch black.“Fuck.” I spun around, already barking into my comms. “Talk to me. What just happened? I want eyes everywhere, now—”No response.Not static. Not garbled voices.Nothing.Dead.Then came the explosion.It shook the east wing like thunder cracking
Silas POVThey thought I was finished.Ghosting them allowing them to prepare.Even Matteo—the golden prince of paranoia—had stopped looking over his shoulder long enough to play house with his little FBI pet.My brother.Fools.I didn’t need to strike with noise.I just needed to wait. Watch.And now?Now it was time.I sat at the edge of the rooftop, leather gloves soaked in the blood of a man I hadn’t bothered to name. His phone still buzzed in his pocket, probably Matteo’s men checking in.They’d find silence.And a message.I left the body laying against the ledge, one eye gouged out and a knife driven through the heart. His tongue had been cut clean and placed in his palm. An old Moretti warning. I wondered if they’d even remember what it meant.I did.Silence comes before the slaughter.****I moved like a shadow through the