Chapter 4

“Careful, Lorenzo. You’re slipping.”

The voice came from the courtyard as Lorenzo stepped back into the palazzo. He froze, fingers brushing the knife at his belt. Then he caught the tone. It was soft. 

Isabella. His older sister. 

She moved out from under the olive trees. Her hair was pinned up neatly, lips painted red, eyes glittering with secrets. Isabella De Luca always looked like she was playing a game only she knew the rules to.

“You’re out late,” she said, tilting her head. “And you smell weird.Tell me, little brother, what exactly have you been doing?”

Lorenzo slid on his usual smirk, pulling the mask over his face. “Walking. Since when do I need your blessing to take a breath?”

“Walking,” she repeated, tasting the word like wine. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Funny. I thought I saw you talking.”

His chest tightened. She couldn’t know, not for sure. 

“To who?” he asked, too fast.

Her smile deepened. “Does it matter? You’ve always been reckless. But this…” her eyes narrowed, her voice dropping smooth and low, “this feels like something else. Something dangerous.”

Lorenzo lit another cigarette, the flick of the flame steadying his hands. “You spend too much time chasing things, Isa. Get some sleep.”

But Isabella stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Don’t insult me. I know what I saw.”

For a heartbeat, Lorenzo thought she’d say it, Mateo’s name, slipping from her lips. His stomach burned.

Instead, she brushed her hand down his sleeve, light as silk. “You always loved fire, Lorenzo. One day, you’ll burn this whole house down and when you do…” her lips curved in a sly smile, “I’ll be ready with the water.”

Her heels clicked against the times as she turned and vanished inside.

Lorenzo stood rooted in place, cigarette burning down to the filter. The air felt colder than before.

She knew or at least, she suspected and suspicion was often deadlier than certainty.

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

The mansion buzzed the next morning. Alessandro had called an emergency meeting. The dining hall filled with captains, the scrape of chairs mixing with low voices and curling smoke.

“We don’t know who ordered the hit,” Alessandro said. He paced the length of the room, like a general on the edge of war. “It could have been Ricardo, or someone else trying to light the fuse. Doesn’t matter. What matters is control. We cannot look weak.”

The room murmured in agreement.

Lorenzo slouched in his chair, cigarette smoldering between his fingers. His head throbbed, but not from whiskey. From her. From him. From everything.

Alessandro’s eyes snapped to him. “Do you have anything to add? Or will you sit there sulking like a spoiled child?”

Lorenzo gave a lazy smirk. “What do you want me to say? That you’ll crush Ricardo? That you’ll burn the city until someone breaks? Everyone here already knows the script.”

A ripple of unease passed through the men at the table.

And then Isabella’s laugh cut through the silence. “Now, now, Alessandro. Don’t bite his head off. We all know strategy was never Lorenzo’s strong suit.” She lifted her glass, her smile sweet, but her eyes locked on her brother’s with wicked delight. “He’s better at… impulses.”

Lorenzo’s stare snapped to her. She only smiled wider.

The rest of the meeting blurred into orders, threats, and plans for revenge. All Lorenzo could think about was the rope Isabella had looped around his throat. Every word she spoke sounded harmless to the others, but he heard the message beneath it: I know.

When the meeting ended, Lorenzo stormed out into the courtyard. The marble glowed with morning light, but it felt like ice.

Of course, she was waiting.

“You enjoy watching me squirm,” he muttered, lighting another cigarette with shaking hands.

Isabella tilted her head, eyes dancing. “Only because it’s so easy.”

He blew smoke hard, forcing his voice steady. “Whatever you think you saw last night, forget it.”

Her laugh was soft, almost pitying. “Oh, Lorenzo. You really think I’d throw away something so valuable?” She moved closer, her perfume thick and sweet. “Secrets are worth gold. And yours? Priceless.”

His jaw tightened. “What do you want?”

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear, her voice a whisper only he could hear: “When the time comes, I’ll tell you. Until then… behave.”

And just like that, she walked away.

Lorenzo ground his cigarette into the wall until it crumbled. His chest heaved. She had him trapped, and she loved every second of it.

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

That night, Lorenzo drove aimlessly, headlights cutting through the dark, the engine growling like his thoughts. No matter how many turns he took, everything circled back to the same place. The same name.

Mateo.

Damn him.

Lorenzo hated himself for it, for craving what he couldn’t have, for replaying the sound of Mateo’s voice breaking when he said: We shouldn't do this.

By the time he cut the engine at the waterfront, Lorenzo’s hands were shaking. 

Then he heard footsteps. 

Mateo stepped out of the shadows like he had been waiting there all along. Black suit, no tie, eyes hard. 

Lorenzo’s pulse jumped. “What, are you following me now?”

Mateo’s jaw tightened. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You keep saying that.” Lorenzo’s voice came sharp, defensive. “And yet, here you are too.”

The waves crashed, filling the silence between them.

Mateo moved closer, voice low. “You’re playing with fire, De Luca.”

Lorenzo let out a bitter laugh. “And you’re not?”

They stood locked, two predators circling. The air sparked between them.

“I told you,” Mateo said, fists curling at his sides, “this cannot happen again.”

“Then why are you here?” Lorenzo shot back, stepping forward until their shadows almost touched.

Mateo’s jaw clenched hard. His mask was cracking.

“Because I don’t trust myself around you.”

The words hit Lorenzo like a blow. His breath caught. For once, the smirk slipped, leaving nothing but raw hunger and in Mateo’s eyes, he saw the same.

For a long moment, the whole world narrowed to the space between them.

The sea, the truth they couldn’t name.

Then…..A sharp metallic click cut through the night.

Both men froze, their instincts snapping into place.

The sound of a gun being cocked echoed from the shadows and Lorenzo’s blood turned cold.