Chapter Five: The Devil Wear My Father's Face

**Amelia's POV**

I was still staggered by Nico's words.

"He owed me blood."

Those four words throbbed in my chest like a shot I had not seen coming. They clung to my ribs, circling like vultures. Even though I knew my father might be cruel, cold. But even this?

This is not just betrayal. This was conflict.

As I made my way toward the kitchen, it crushed my breath. The globe felt quieter now. Heavier. I have heard Nico’s confession and wasn't sure what to do with it.

I went by the kitchen to find an older woman at the burner. Her spoon's gentle click on a pot was the sole kind element left in the house.

 Smiling, I greeted, "Good morning, ma'am. Have you noticed Nico around?"

 “Just call me Martha, dear,” she said warmly, “Nico's in his room. West wing.”

 My voice almost cracked, "Thank you."

 I went on, my heart ticking like a time bomb.

 The west wing differed dramatically from the rest of the home. Everything here was sharp lines, chilly metals, and luxury that spoke of control. It was masculine, bold. Just like Nico.

Talking to someone on the Phone, I saw standing him next to the window. His voice, sharp, clipped, went over the air like a sword. His patience seemed to be thinning quickly, even though he wasn't shouting.

 He finished the call with a brusque movement and spun.

 His gaze was fixed on me.

 I felt the impact before it arrived, only his look was blazing and undecipherable. My throat stiffened.

 I started quietly, voice weak, "I came merely to verify what you said earlier." "Are you then claiming he's still involved?"

 Nico was not quick to answer. His jaw moved, as if determining between silence or truth. Then he said. "Your father has dug his own grave." The words were cold, final.

 He sat down on a chair, rubbing his face with one hand.

 My heart fell with him. "What do you mean?"

 Now he did not hesitate.

 "Under my name, he sent a shipment. through my ports." He glared at me, his eyes like shattered ice. "Illegal weaponry. Traced."

 I felt a sudden coldness going over me.

 "Traced by who?" I murmured.

 "Law enforcement," he answered with voice like fractured steel, "or worse."

 He got up unexpectedly and started to stroll. He stiffens his shoulders, fists clenched.

"I operate a lean project, Amelia." Nothing enters or leaves without my approval. And today, now he pulls me into this shitstorm? Do you understand what that signifies?”

 I opened my lips, but nothing came out. I sensed my tongue thicken. My throat, dry.

 He suddenly tossed his phone across the table.

 It slammed the border and broke apart, glass flying.

 I cringed.

 "It means either I clean up your father's mess," he grumbled, moving toward me, "or take the fall. Bloodily, publicly."

 I stood still. I shook, though.

 I whispered, "I did not know..."

 He halted several inches from me.

 Cold, unyielding, his gaze encountered mine. "Of course you did not. He never wanted you to see who he really is. You're far too naive."

 Tears behind my eyes "Why now?"

He reached up, inhaled deeply, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his trademark gesture, one I was learning to understand.

His hand stayed too long, a second too long.

 He stated sourly, "Your father owes me his life. he doesn't owe me money anymore. And rather than pay it, he sought to hide me under it.”

 The words struck like lightning.

 Knees going weak, I staggered back a little.

 He turned away toward someone in the room I hadn't even noticed.

 He commanded, "Bring in Matteo. and I want the surveillance from every port, I want eyes on every Romano left breathing."

 Once, the man nodded he left immediately.

 Frozen, my fists clenched at my sides.

 "You...you cannot kill my father," I stuttered.

 Nico did not face around.

 “Someone else will if I don't."

 " Nico, please... " I lunged forward, desperate now. "He's still my father. I require answers. I require..."

 He turned and thundered his voice.

 "Don't beg for a man who never begged for you!"

 I flinched once more, my breath stuck in my throat.

 Eyes blazing, Nico kept, "He circled me like a vulture for years," "Feeding on my name. Selling secrets behind my back." And now he pulls you into it since he knows I won't touch you."

Our eyes met. Between us something went by.

 something natural. Anything true.

 "I've done awful stuff, Amelia," he said, his voice gravel-soft. "But don't mistake that for weakness. Should he continue pushing. I'll break him. Moreover, not even you will be able to prevent me."

 I nodded gradually. I ought to hate him. I should have been.

 I did not, yet.

Hate demanded distance, and every time he approached, I let him.

 I whispered, "You said you saw me once, outside my school gates. Why didn't you come closer?

 He blinked. The question startled him.

 He mumbled, "You seemed so... untouched. I didn't want to taint that."

 My backbone shivered.

 He had observed me not to cause me pain but rather to safeguard something pure in a world not.

 "I'm not innocent anymore," I murmured.

 He backed off as if I had struck him. "Don't utter that."

 "But it's true."

 He came closer once more. “I see it still. Even if you don't.”

 I turned away and said, "Then perhaps you don't know me at all."

 I turned one step, but he was here.

 Close. too close.

His breath hit my face ghostly.

 "Maybe," he whispered gently, "I know you better than you know yourself."

 My breath hung. His closeness sent my ideas like leaves in a storm.

 “This is wrong," I muttered.

 “But you are not going.”

 He was correct.

God assist me. I did not move. One element of me longed for him, the danger.

 SLAM.

 The door swung open.

 Footsteps: Marble Gunmetal Boots a presence cutting through the room like a sword.

 Nico reacted instinctively, his bodily shielding me.

 Matteo strode in, his face like stone, phone held in one hand.

 "Boss," he declared, "we have an issue."

 He gave Nico the phone.

 Nico fixed his gaze on the screen.

 His face turned dark with something aggressive.

 He kicked the phone back and went out without saying anything.

Matteo followed.

But before he disappeared, I grabbed his arm.

“Wait,” I gasped. “Let me see.”

He tossed the phone to me without protest and hurried after Nico.

I stared at the screen.

A video played.

My father… handing off a briefcase. Beside him—a man stepped into frame and accepted it.

I blinked.

Then my heart stopped.

It was one of Nico’s men.

The same man who’d escorted me here that first night.

My fingers shook around the phone. My breath came short.

“What the hell…?” I whispered.

It hit me like ice water.

I hadn’t just been betrayed by my father.

There was a traitor in Nico’s inner circle. Someone who had delivered me straight into this world... .and who was now tearing it apart from within.

I gasped, covering my mouth as the truth slammed into me, loud, brutal, and devastating.

And for the first time, I realized.

I wasn’t just caught in a war.

I was the reason it had started.