Chapter 2

“Explain yourself.”

Ricardo’s voice cut through the room.The smell of gunpowder still hung in the air of the villa’s meeting hall. 

Blood stained the marble floor where one of Ricardo’s men had fallen. Outside, engines roared as guards locked down the grounds, but inside, all that was left was silence, and Ricardo’s fury.

Mateo stood tall, his hands behind his back, his face unreadable. He had learned long ago that silence could be a shield.

But tonight, that silence might not save him.

Ricardo wasn’t looking at Alessandro De Luca, or at the soldiers waiting by the door. His eyes were fixed only on Mateo.

“You had a choice,” Ricardo said, his voice calm in a way that was more dangerous than shouting. “Your job was clear. Protect me. Protect this family and yet…” His eyes moved toward Lorenzo, who stood across the room beside Alessandro, shaken but alive. “…you threw yourself in front of him.”

The words hit like an accusation.

Mateo’s jaw tightened. He could feel every man in the room watching, waiting for him to slip. But he stayed still. “He was the closest target. I acted on instinct.”

“Instinct,” Ricardo repeated, his tone sharp, almost mocking. He leaned back in his chair, the cigar smoke curling in the air. “That’s what you expect me to believe?”

Mateo didn’t answer. He didn’t dare look at Lorenzo, though he could feel his stare burning through him. Saving him hadn’t been planned. It wasn’t duty, it was just reflex. L

And yet, it hadn’t felt like just reflex when he grabbed him, when he pulled him out of the line of fire. It had felt like something else. Something Mateo didn’t want to admit.

Alessandro stepped forward then, voice cool but edged with steel. “If we’re talking about choices, Ricardo, maybe we should start with who shot first. My men say the bullets came from your side.”

Ricardo’s eyes snapped to him, a cold smile tugging at his lips. “How convenient that your men would say that.”

The two bosses clashed with words, each one cutting at the other, while their soldiers stood tense in the corners of the room.

But Mateo barely heard any of it. All he could feel was the weight of Ricardo’s suspicion pressing against him, and the heat of Lorenzo’s gaze from across the hall.

When the meeting finally ended, too much blood spilled for peace, but too much risk to start a war. Mateo followed Ricardo outside into the cool night air.

The courtyard smelled of smoke.Guards moved along the walls, their voices low. Ricardo stopped just short of the waiting cars and turned to Mateo.

“Loyalty is everything,” he said quietly, only for Mateo’s ears. “Without it, you’re nothing. I raised you. I gave you a place here. Don’t forget that.”

Mateo dipped his head. “I haven’t forgotten.”

Ricardo studied him for a long moment, his stare heavy, before getting into the black car without another word.

Mateo stood there, fists tight behind his back, nails digging into his palms. He told himself it had been nothing, a reflex, just like he said. But the memory wouldn’t leave: the sound of Lorenzo’s uneven breath, the weight of his arm under Mateo’s grip. The look in his eyes, not gratitude, but recognition, as if they both understood something had shifted.

And that was the danger. Because Lorenzo De Luca wasn’t just another man. He was the enemy.

**************************

Later that night, back at the Cruz estate on the coast, Mateo locked himself away in his office. He poured a glass of scotch, the amber light catching on the rim, and tried to drown out Ricardo’s words. Loyalty is everything.

A knock came at the door.

He didn’t answer, but the door opened anyway.

“It’s not like you to drink alone.”

Mateo lifted his eyes. Glass still in hand.

It was Sofia, Ricardo’s niece. Sharp eyes, sly smile, dressed like she always had a secret. She leaned on the doorframe, her lips curving knowingly.

“You were reckless tonight,” she said, stepping inside. “Throwing yourself in front of a De Luca? That’s the kind of thing people notice.”

Mateo’s face didn’t move. “It was instinct.”

Sofia tilted her head, studying him like a cat watching a mouse. “Funny. I’ve never seen your instincts fail Ricardo before.”

Mateo said nothing.

Her smile widened. She moved closer, circling his desk, close enough that he caught her perfume. “Be careful, Mateo. Secrets don’t last long in this family and I’d hate to see you bleed for one.”

She left as quickly as she came, her soft laugh trailing behind her.

Mateo sat in silence, his drink untouched, the weight of the night pressing in.

*******************

Across the city, Lorenzo De Luca couldn’t sleep either. He sat on the balcony of his family’s palazzo, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The scene kept replaying in his head.

Mateo Cruz had saved him.

It made no sense. Enemies didn’t do that. Men like Mateo didn’t make mistakes and yet, when Lorenzo shut his eyes, he could still feel it, he grip on his shoulder, the shield of Mateo’s body against his. It haunted him. It angered him and, God help him, it thrilled him.

He exhaled smoke into the night, the thought of what happened replaying over and over. He wanted to see him again.

************************

The next day, fate made it happen.

The De Lucas and the Cruzs met again, this time on neutral ground, pretending to smooth over the blood spilled of the night before.

The hall was smaller and tighter.

Alessandro spoke in hushed tones, demanding answers, while Ricardo’s rage boiled just beneath the surface.

Mateo stood behind his boss, still, unreadable. He didn’t glance at Lorenzo once. But Lorenzo’s eyes wouldn’t leave him. He couldn’t stop himself.

It was unbearable, the silence, the distance, the memory.

When the meeting ended, Lorenzo slipped away from his brother’s men and caught Mateo at the edge of the courtyard.

“Why did you do it?” His voice was low, urgent.

Mateo froze. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then slowly, he turned, face carved from stone. “Forget it.”

“I can’t,” Lorenzo snapped back. “You could’ve let me die. You should’ve let me die. So why didn’t you?”

The silence between them was tight, dangerous.

For the first time, Mateo’s mask cracked. Just for a second, something raw flickered in his eyes.

Then he stepped closer, his voice low, meant only for Lorenzo.

“Because I don’t take orders from my heart.”