INICIAR SESIÓNTwo families at war. One marriage for peace. Many lies to hide the truth. Alessia Moretti did not marry Lucien Valenti because she loved him; she married him to get information. As the daughter of the Moretti leader, she believes the Valentis killed her brother, Enzo. Now, she is living in their home, ready to destroy their business from the inside. Lucien Valenti is a man of secrets. He knows his wife is a spy, and he is ready to play her game—until a person from the past returns with a warning: the real enemy is not the husband she lives with, but the father who forced her into the marriage. When a stolen file reveals "Project Veil"—a terrible medical plan paid for by her own family, Alessia is forced to work with the man she wanted to kill. From the expensive parties in Manhattan to the dark hallways of secret labs in Italy, Alessia and Lucien must deal with many betrayals. In the world of the Syndicate, the truth is more dangerous than a lie. And the truth is: some secrets are better left hidden.
Ver másAlessia Moretti’s POV“I watched them bury her. I saw the coffin go into the ground.”Lucien didn’t look away from his phone. “Then explain why she’s texting my contact from the docks.”“That’s impossible.”“She’s not a ghost, Alessia.”“She’s not supposed to be anything. Isabella Romano died. Two bullets. Open casket.”Rafael crossed his arms. “You sure about that? Because dead people don’t usually run shadow ops.”I stepped back, heart pounding. “My father never mentioned anything. Not after she died.”Lucien looked at me. “What was she to him?”“A trophy. A way to rub it in people’s faces that he could still love after my mother. Or pretend to.”“Pretend?”“She used to smile like she owned the room. But it never reached her eyes. She hated me. And Enzo.”“Why?” Rafael asked.“Because we weren’t hers. And she wanted everything he had.”Lucien lowered his voice. “What if she got it?”I stared at him. “What do you mean?”“Isabella’s smart. Manipulative. Ambitious. If she faked her dea
Lucien Valenti’s POVHe was either a traitoror a dead man walking.Maybe both.“Put the phone down,” I said, voice low.Rafael didn’t move. His eyes met the screen like he could erase the message with compulsion.Alessia stepped beside me, breath sharp. “Who sent that? Who were you confirming to?”“I didn’t confirm anything,” Rafael said.“Then why the hell does your phone say otherwise?” I snapped.He looked between us. “I have no idea. I swear, I didn’t—”“You had a burner,” I cut in. “We went in the dark. No signals. No tracking. But someone knew we were coming. Someone knew exactly where we’d be.”He held out the phone. “Take it. Check it.”I snatched it. The message was clear. One word. Confirmed. Sent three minutes before the explosion.I scrolled. No name. Just a number. But it was local.“You didn’t send this?” I asked.“No,” he said. “I don’t even know how that message got there.”“Right,” I muttered. “It just appeared. Out of thin air.”Rafael looked at Alessia. “You know m
Alessia Moretti’s POVThe last time I saw Lucien’s face that pale, there was blood on his hands.This time, it wasn’t his.“What is it?” I asked.He didn’t answer. He just stared at his phone like it had teeth.“Lucien.”He turned the screen to me.The video was shaky, grainy. A girl. Young. Gagged. Hands bound behind her back.She was crying. Not loudly. Not theatrically. Quiet tears. Real fear.“Who is she?” I asked.“My sister,” he said.My heart sank. “Lucien…”He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just replayed the video again.I touched his arm. “Talk to me.”“She was supposed to be in Paris. I moved her there three years ago. After my father…” He stopped. Jaw clenched. “I swore no one would ever touch her again.”“Who sent it?”“No number. No trace.”The voice at the end was what turned my stomach. Calm. Smirking. Familiar in a way I couldn’t place.“I hear you’ve been digging, Lucien. Time to bury what you love.”I looked at him. “This is about us. About what we found.”He nodded once
Lucien Valenti’s POVThere are only two kinds of people who walk into my territory uninvited.The desperation. And the dead."Stand down," I said, low and calm, though every muscle in my body was ready to break something.My guards didn’t move."I said stand down."They hesitated, but they obeyed.The man didn’t shake. He stood in the middle of the courtyard like he owned it, hood low, mask half-shadowing his face, neck bare except for the noticeable black rose tattoo.Alessia stood beside me, gun still in her hand. I saw her grip tighten."You’re not real," she said.The man chuckled. "Aren’t I?""Rafael," she whispered.He nodded. "You look like him. Enzo. In the eyes."My voice cut in. "How the hell are you alive?"He turned to me slowly. "You’re the one who’s supposed to be good at answers, Valenti. I thought you’d figured it out by now.""You faked your death.""Not exactly. Someone else tried to give me one.""Your boss," I said. "Her father."Rafael’s smile faded."He thought






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