Chapter 3

The night was too quiet. Lorenzo slipped out of the palazzo under the cover of darkness, a cigarette between his lips, jacket hanging loose over his shoulder. He told Alessandro he needed air. What he really needed was space.

Space from the heavy weight of family loyalty. Space from the cold look in his brother’s eyes. Space from the ghost of his father that still lingered in the halls. And most of all, space from the memory that clung to him like a second skin, Mateo’s hand pulling him out of the line of fire.

But space was cruel.

The old port was nearly empty at this hour. The streets were slick with sea spray, lamps throwing long shadows across the stones. Lorenzo leaned against the hood of his car, flicking ash into the dark, when he heard it, footsteps. 

He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.

“I knew you’d come,” Lorenzo said, smoke curling from his lips.

A figure stepped from the shadows. Mateo Cruz. Black suit, no tie His eyes caught the streetlight, dark, unreadable  

“You shouldn’t be here,” Mateo said quietly. His voice was steady, almost flat, like he was giving an order instead of advice.

Lorenzo smirked, finally meeting his eyes. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing to you.”

Mateo stopped a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back. Always the soldier. “If Ricardo knew….”

“If Alessandro knew……” Lorenzo cut in with a shrug. “Looks like we’re both breaking rules.”

The silence stretched, heavy with things neither of them said.

Mateo broke it first. “Why are you here?”

Lorenzo let out a dry laugh. “Because I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I hear the shots again. And because….” he flicked his cigarette into the street, sparks scattering, “....because I keep seeing you. Standing in front of me like some kind of saint. Doesn’t fit the picture I have of a Cruz.”

Mateo’s jaw tightened. “It was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Lorenzo pushed off the car, taking a step closer. “Don’t lie to me. You could’ve let me die. You should’ve let me die. But you didn’t. So tell me, Mateo, why?”

Mateo’s eyes darkened. His tone stayed calm. “Instinct.”

Lorenzo barked out a harsh laugh. “Instinct doesn’t look at me the way you did.”

That made Mateo falter, just for a heartbeat, but enough.

Lorenzo caught it, and his pulse quickened.

“You felt it too,” Lorenzo pressed, his voice low but edged with danger. “Don’t tell me you didn’t.”

Mateo exhaled slowly, like each breath was a battle. “You don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Oh, I understand,” Lorenzo said, moving closer, close enough to catch the faint scent of Mateo’s cologne. His voice softened but carried weight. “I understand you’ve spent your whole life serving Ricardo, bending to his rules. I understand I’m supposed to hate you. You’re supposed to hate me. But for one second, you didn’t. You chose me.”

Mateo’s hands tightened behind his back. “And it was a mistake.”

“Was it?” Lorenzo tilted his head, eyes locked on him. “Because the way you’re standing here tells me otherwise.”

Mateo’s eyes flicked to the ground. “My loyalty isn’t a choice. Ricardo is my family. Everything I am, I owe to him. That choice I made, it can’t happen again.”

Lorenzo gave a slow, sharp smile. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.”

Mateo’s eyes snapped back, sharp as glass. “And you sound like a man who doesn’t know the price of temptation.”

The words cut, but Lorenzo didn’t flinch. He leaned in, their faces close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Maybe I don’t care about the price.”

Mateo’s jaw flexed. His voice came out low and rough. “Careful. You’re walking on a line you can’t come back from.”

“Then let me fall,” Lorenzo murmured.

Mateo’s mouth opened, then shut. He shook his head, stepping back, but Lorenzo followed, refusing to let him go.

“Say it,” Lorenzo demanded. “Say you regret saving me. Say you wish I’d died.”

Mateo’s lips pressed into a hard line. His silence said everything.

“You can’t,” Lorenzo whispered, a cruel smile tugging at his mouth. “Because part of you doesn’t regret it. Part of you wanted to save me.”

“That part will get us both killed,” Mateo said through gritted teeth.

“Then maybe I don’t care,” Lorenzo shot back.

“You should.” Mateo’s voice rose, sharp now. “This isn’t a game. You’re a De Luca. I’m a Cruz. Our families don’t forgive. They don’t forget. Do you know what Ricardo would do to me if he even suspected….”

“Do you know what Alessandro would do to me?” Lorenzo interrupted. “We’re both trapped, Mateo. Maybe that’s why this feels…” He stopped, chest heaving. “.different.”

Mateo’s nostrils flared. “Different doesn’t matter. Loyalty does.”

Lorenzo laughed, bitter. “Loyalty? Or fear?”

Mateo stepped forward then, sudden and sharp, his face inches from Lorenzo’s. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

Lorenzo didn’t move back. “No. I think you’re afraid of yourself.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Neither man looked away.

Finally, Mateo spoke, voice lower now and rougher. “You don’t know me, Lorenzo.”

“Then let me,” Lorenzo whispered.

For a long moment, neither moved. The night seemed to hold its breath.

Mateo finally stepped back, like he was tearing himself away. “This ends here.”

“No.” Lorenzo’s voice cracked with defiance. “This is just the beginning.”

Mateo turned, ready to leave, but Lorenzo reached out and grabbed his wrist. The touch was electric, dangerous and alive, burning through both of them. Mateo froze, his muscle tense. 

Their eyes locked.

“You saved me,” Lorenzo said, softer now, almost pleading. “And I don’t know how to let that go.”

Mateo’s breath caught, so faint, but enough for Lorenzo to notice. For a second, the wall around him cracked, and something unguarded slipped through his eyes.

Then he tore his hand free. “Don’t follow me again.”

He turned and walked into the shadows, each step slow until the sound of him was gone.

Lorenzo stood alone, chest rising hard, the cold sea air biting against his skin.