Semua Bab Bound by blood and lies: Bab 181 - Bab 190

Eli’s POVThe mansion didn’t feel like empty and cold anymore.It felt like a battlefield.Every hallway echoed with footsteps that didn’t belong to ghosts. Armed men paced with sharp eyes and sharper instincts, their voices curt and loud, their presence somewhat reassuring. The house that once held silence and secrets was now filled with strategy and tension. The smell of espresso mixed with gunpowder and cigar. This place—our hideout, our temporary refuge—had evolved into a headquarters.A war camp made out of old stone and luxurious marble tiles.I stood by the upstairs window, overlooking the courtyard as two of Luciano’s men loaded crates into a black van. Weapons, supplies, God knows what else. The coordination was perfect. No wasted movements. No idle chatter.Hardworking. Focused.Deadly.Matteo’s voice could be heard from downstairs, barking out an order in that commanding voice that made people listen before they even realized it. Someone answered him with a “Yes, sir.” Luca

Matteo’s POVThe cellar reeked of sweat, metal, and blood.Not fresh blood. The kind that had been left for so long that it has embedded in walls, soaked into stone, forgotten by time but never fully gone. A scent you never really forget once it touches your nose. It sat heavy in lungs. It was a scent I was all to familiar with.Silas was tied to the chair in the middle of the room. Bare-chested, his skin was lined with bruises, a split lip crusted in dried red, and one eye that had swollen shut. He looked like hell but he sat like a king.Head high. Legs spread. Smirk etched onto his face that I so desperately wanted to wipe off.“You look like shit,” I said, walking into the room with Luca beside me. Eli hung near the door, arms crossed, face cold. Luciano stood back, silent. Watching. He didn’t need to speak to command presence. He was a force to reckon with.Contrary to Emilio who loved to shout to be heard, Luciano was silent and deadly that made me respect and fear him because I

Eli’s POVIt started with the silence.Not the kind Silas could weaponize—the kind that's thick with disdain and arrogance— this was the kind that spoke of something unraveling. A silence where thoughts grew louder than pride, and the truth screamed in your mind, begging to be spilled.I knew that silence.It was the kind that came just before surrender.I waited exactly forty-eight hours before stepping back into that basement. We left him alone—no food, no water, no interaction. Matteo had wanted to keep hammering, pushing harder until something broke. But I knew better.Men like Silas don’t break from pressure.They decay in it.And decay takes time.***The door creaked open, light flooding the dark room. Silas blinked, sluggishly lifting his head as I stepped inside. He looked worse. His jaw was unshaved, his eyes sunken with fatigue, and there was a twitch in his left hand he didn’t bother to hide.I said nothing.Just closed the door, pulled a chair forward, and sat again—like

Eli’s POVI came back as he said and he willingly gave me all the information I needed.The others were in the dungeon as well. Just in case.The silence after Silas spoke felt heavier than his confession.“I’ve told you everything,” he muttered, his voice like someone with a sore throat that had gone on for far too kong. His eyes were rimmed red, not from tears, but from exhaustion, pain, and something deeper—defeat.He slumped back against the cold metal chair, chest heaving. His wrists were raw from the restraints, but he didn’t even seem to notice anymore. The bravado he carried when we first brought him in was gone. Stripped away, layer by bloody layer. What remained was a shell barely holding together, flickering with the dim remnants of purpose.“She’s in Sicily,” he rasped. “Old estate. The one Luciano burned down but never fully destroyed. That’s where she’s hiding. That’s where she’s planning it all.”I stared at him, searching for a flicker of a lie, a twitch of deception b

Evangeline’s POVHe’s compromised.That was the first thought that echoed through my mind the moment I heard Silas had been captured.Luciano had him.Luciano.The name alone made my lip turn into a sneer. Not from love. That ship had sunk long ago—dragged under by morality, hesitation, and his pathetic sense of right and wrong. He was weak. A man who could've ruled the world beside me but chose instead to cower in the shadows of guilt and fatherhood.And now, like some ghost of a past I buried with blood and fire, he had returned. Breathing. Walking. Watching. Ruining.My fingers twitched around the glass of wine in my hand as I stared out over the city. My city. I had built this empire in the ashes of the Moretti name, sharpened its bones into a blade, and aimed it straight at the world. All for Eli.All for the greater good.Silas was supposed to be the front. A way maker. The prototype. A loyal tool, raised and molded to carry out a vision he was never meant to understand. My son,