로그인The calm inside Lorenzo shattered after Ricci’s words. Beneath his calm surface felt like glass breaking silently underwater. For one suspended moment, he simply stood there staring at Isabella, his mind refusing to process what had just been placed in front of him.She saw who killed your father.The sentence echoed through him again and again but every instinct inside him rejected it immediately. Not because it was impossible but because it explained too much.The fear in Isabella’s face.Marco’s tension.All the years of silence and the hesitation that arose every single time his father’s death had ever been mentioned, all of it suddenly began to feel connected which meant that this wasn’t merely another manipulation.This was real.His father.The man whose death had reshaped everything and whose blood had hardened Lorenzo into someone more colder and ruthless than he had once been.And now… now there was a witness, standing directly beside him.“What did you see?” He pleaded, his
The tunnel had become now too tiny for the barrage of truth gathering inside it, nobody could move after Ricci’s final words. Not Lorenzo. Not Marco. Not even Isabella. The air felt strained and heavy with the weight of things that had been buried for too long beneath silence, loyalty, blood, and lies. The men's voices still echoed dangerously outside the wall but none of that felt urgent… not compared to this. Or compared to the envelope that was still resting calmly in Ricci’s hand. Lorenzo stared at it without blinking. This was five years later. A whole five years of believing that Isabella betrayed him. Five years that had sharpened his rage into certainty. Five years of carrying the memory of her disappearance like an open wound which he now disguised as hatred. And now… all of a sudden a total stranger stepped out of the dark and was dangling in their faces the possibility that everything he believed might have been manufactured from the beginning. The thought should
The voice settled calm and familiar in the worst possible way into the tunnel like smoke. The darkness ahead seemed to thicken around the sound, swallowing whatever shape and distance existed until what was left was just the echo of those words and the suffocating realization that they were no longer alone.Lorenzo’s hand flew around the gun in his hand and beside him, Isabella felt every muscle in her body lock, her pulse hammered violently beneath her skin.The tunnel ahead remained almost entirely dark except for a faint amber light somewhere deeper within that was barely strong enough to outline the silhouette that was slowly beginning to emerge from the shadows.Then he appeared, tall and older, looking neatly dressed in contrast to the environment. He walked towards them calmly and totally unhurried even with all the danger surrounding them.His silver-streaked hair was sleeked neatly to the back, his coat was untouched by dust or blood, his expression carrying the quiet ease of
The footsteps behind them were no distant anymore, they were getting closer. It's sound moved through the narrow corridor in waves; boots struck stone and clipped orders bounced off the walls, giving the unmistakable rhythm of trained men tightening a search pattern. Whoever was leading them now seemed to have adapted quickly after the failed ambush as they were no longer trying to corner them blindly. They were herding and Lorenzo recognized the tactic. That only meant that people hunting them were not ordinary soldiers theat were carrying out borrowed instructions rather, these were men who were accustomed to pressure, pursuit and the understanding of how fear altered movement. That realization only sharpened the growing suspicion Lorenzo already had about Marco and the fact that he seems to understand them too well, the thought of it all kept pressing against the back of his mind. Ahead, the passage narrowed once more before curving to the right. The dim overhead lights flick
They did not speak for several moments after crossing the trap not just because there was nothing to say but because too much had been said without saying a word.The passage stretched ahead of them, wider now although no less suffocating. The air was humid and stale, untouched by movement for long periods, and every step echoed just enough to remind them how exposed they still were despite being hidden.Lorenzo moved first. His pace had changing with intention, each step measured not just for the path ahead but for the people around him. The pain in his shoulder had settled with a steady, draining ache that tugged at his focus and tested the limits of his control.He tried to ignore it but couldn't because ignoring it entirely would be a mistake.And Lorenzo did not make those twice.Isabella followed closely, behind him, the adrenaline that had carried her through the last few minutes was beginning to wear thin, replaced by deep seated exhaustion that had settled into her muscles, m
The metallic click did not echo. It didn’t need to. In a confined passage like this, where every breath already felt too loud, the tiniest sound was sharp enough to cut straight through instinct and land somewhere that recognized danger before the mind could name it. Lorenzo stopped. Not a gradual pause that was tinged with hesitation, A full stop. His body went rigid with a precision that camefrom years of knowing that the difference between movement and survival often came down to a single second. Matteo clung closer to him, circling his arm around his neck. Lorenzo looked at him and held onto him, his grip remaining firm, despite the strain building in his shoulder. Behind him, Isabella froze as well. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs, as her eyes darted across the narrow passage, searching, scanning, trying to locate the source of the sound. But there was nothing obvious, no visible threat or movement just the oppressive stillness of the corridor. “Don’t move,”







