Veil 4

Betrayal doesn’t always come with a knife to the back. Sometimes, it’s a whisper in the dark, a hand extended in friendship while the other plots your downfall. I’ve lived through it once, and I refuse to be caught off guard again.

Now, standing in the heart of the Moretti family's territory, I know I’m walking into a den of vipers. The line between friend and enemy is dangerously thin, and one wrong step could mean my death. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the best way to catch a traitor is to think like one.

Tonight, I start hunting.

---

The underground club is packed, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Music thrums through the floor, sending vibrations up my legs as I weave through the crowd. This is where power plays happen behind closed doors, where alliances are made or broken over glasses of expensive whiskey.

I keep my head down, my hood drawn low over my face. I’m not here for a drink. I’m here for information.

Marco, my informant, is already seated in a booth at the far end of the club. He’s fidgeting, eyes darting around like a man who knows he’s being watched. When I slide into the seat across from him, he exhales sharply.

“Damn it, Elena. You shouldn’t have come here.”

I smirk. “Then why did you ask to meet?”

He shakes his head, lowering his voice. “Because what I have isn’t safe to say over the phone. The Moretti family has a leak.”

I keep my expression neutral, though my pulse quickens. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Marco leans in. “It’s bigger than just selling secrets. Someone is setting them up. I don’t know who, but I know it’s someone close. Someone with access.”

I already suspected this, but hearing it confirmed sends a sharp thrill through me. If someone is manipulating both the Moretti and Volkov families, they’re playing a dangerous game. And I intend to find them before they tip the balance into war.

Before I can press Marco for more, the hairs on the back of my neck rise. A presence—strong, familiar—cuts through the noise of the club.

I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Step away from him, Elena.”

The deep voice is controlled, but there’s an edge to it, a quiet authority that makes people listen.

I exhale slowly before turning my head. Helios Valenti stands a few feet away, his broad frame blocking out the neon lights. His sharp eyes flicker between me and Marco, and even in the dim lighting, I can see the tension in his stance.

“I’m having a conversation,” I say evenly.

Helios steps closer. “Your conversation is over.”

Marco visibly shrinks in his seat, but I don’t move. “Unless you have a better lead, I suggest you let me do my job.”

Helios doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he turns his attention to Marco. “Leave. Now.”

Marco doesn’t need to be told twice. He bolts from the booth, disappearing into the crowd. I watch him go, then shift my glare back to Helios.

“That was unnecessary.”

Helios slides into the seat Marco just vacated. “That depends on your definition of necessary.”

I lean back, crossing my arms. “Are you here to protect me or control me?”

His jaw tightens. “I’m here to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

I scoff. “You don’t get to play the protector, Helios. You lost that right years ago.”

His expression darkens, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he lowers his voice. “You want to find the traitor? Fine. But you’re not doing this alone.”

I arch an eyebrow. “And you think I should trust you?”

“You don’t have to,” he says. “But you need me.”

I hate that he’s right.

The Morettis are his family, and if I want to root out the traitor, I need someone on the inside. Someone who knows how they think. Someone like him.

Finally, I exhale. “Then let’s get one thing straight—I don’t take orders from you.”

Helios leans in slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “Then don’t get in my way.”

For a moment, we sit there, locked in a silent battle of wills.

Then, before I can stop myself, I reach forward, grabbing the glass of whiskey he just ordered and taking a slow sip.

His eyes flicker with something unreadable, but he doesn’t stop me. Instead, he watches as I set the glass back down, my fingers trailing over the rim.

“See you around, Valenti,” I murmur.

Then, with one last glance at him, I turn and disappear into the crowd.

But I know—this is just the beginning.

The night air is crisp, a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat of the club. I walk with purpose, my heels clicking against the pavement, my mind racing with what Marco told me. A traitor. Someone close to the Morettis. Someone selling them out.

I should have known.

Betrayal is a language I speak fluently.

But before I can piece everything together, I hear footsteps behind me.

I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Still following me, Valenti?” I call over my shoulder.

Helios doesn’t respond, but I feel his presence is growing closer.

I pick up my pace. So does he.

Annoyed, I take a sharp turn into an alleyway, pressing my back against the brick wall. The moment Helios rounds the corner, I move.

I grab his jacket, using his momentum against him as I shove him hard against the wall. My knife is out in an instant, the cold steel pressing lightly against his side.

He doesn’t even blink.

“Are we really doing this?” he asks, his voice calm.

I meet his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. “You tell me. Why are you following me?”

His lips twitch slightly, as if I’ve amused him. “Because you’re reckless, and I don’t trust you.”

I press the blade in just enough for him to feel it. “Good. The feeling is mutual.”

For a moment, we just stand there, locked in a silent standoff. His body is tense but controlled, his breathing steady. I know he could disarm me if he wanted to—but he doesn’t.

Instead, he tilts his head slightly, his voice quieter now. “If you kill me, you lose your best chance at finding the traitor.”

I hate that he’s right.

I let out a frustrated sigh before stepping back, sheathing my knife. Helios adjusts his jacket like nothing happened, watching me with those sharp, unreadable eyes.

“You’re wasting time, Elena,” he says.

I cross my arms. “Enlighten me.”

He exhales, as if deciding how much to tell me. “Marco’s information is valuable, but it’s incomplete. You’re chasing shadows when you should be looking at the bigger picture.”

I narrow my eyes. “And what do you suggest?”

Helios steps closer, lowering his voice. “Stop thinking like a rogue and start thinking like someone on the inside. The Morettis don’t trust you. The Volkovs barely know you exist. But I do.”

I hate where this is going.

“I can get you into the right rooms,” he continues. “Get you the right information. But if we do this, we do it my way.”

I scoff. “Your way? Last I checked, you’re not exactly the most trustworthy person either.”

Something flickers in his eyes—guilt, maybe. Regret. It’s gone just as quickly.

“I know what it’s like to be betrayed,” he says, voice steady. “I know what it’s like to lose everything because of one wrong choice.”

For a moment, I hesitate.

Because for the first time, I hear something real in his voice.

Maybe we’re not as different as I thought.

Finally, I exhale. “Fine. But let’s get one thing straight—I don’t take orders from you.”

Helios smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then try to keep up.”

I roll my eyes, turning away from him as I walk toward the street.

This alliance is temporary. Necessary. Nothing more.

But deep down, I know the truth.

This is only the beginning.