All Chapters of Play Thing Of The Enemy: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Luca's POVI can't stop staring at the phone. The screen has gone dark, but I can still see the video title burned into my retinas. "The Night Matteo Died - FULL FOOTAGE."Damian left an hour ago. He told me fragments, pieces of what he saw in the video, but he couldn't finish. His voice broke, his hands shook, and for the first time since I've known him, Damian Moretti looked truly afraid. That scares me more than anything else.I pick up the phone with trembling fingers. The email is still there, waiting. Anonymous sender. Encrypted. Professional. Whoever sent this wanted to make sure I'd see it. That I'd watch it. My thumb hovers over the play button.Do I want to know? Do I want to see my brother's last moments? The trauma of that knowledge will never leave me. It will poison everything, color every memory, haunt every dream.But not knowing is worse. Not knowing means living with questions, with doubt, with the terrible possibility that Damian has been lying to me all along.I pr

Damian's POVThe conference room is silent except for the hum of the air conditioning. Six men sit around the polished mahogany table, each one representing a vital piece of my organization. Each one potentially a traitor.Jin Park handles my operations in Chinatown. Marco Sullivan manages the waterfront shipments. Julius Franklin oversees the casinos. Lucas Brennan runs weapons distribution. Greg Volkov controls my Eastern European connections. Carlos Torres, my head of security, sits closest to the door.I've known these men for years. Trusted them with my life, my secrets, my empire. But trust is a luxury I can no longer afford."Thank you for coming on such short notice," I begin, standing at the head of the table. Luca is positioned behind me, armed and alert. Don stands by the window, watching everything."Cut the pleasantries, Damian," Jin says, leaning back in his chair. "We all know why we're here. You think one of us is working with Orion.""Not think. Know." I place my hand

Luca's POVI can't sleep. Can't eat. Can't think about anything except that figure in the shadows.It's been six hours since Jin saw the message on the window. Six hours of my mind spinning in circles, trying to make sense of the impossible. Matteo is dead. I saw his body. I went to the autopsy. I watched them close the casket.Didn't I?The memory feels distant now, fuzzy around the edges. I remember being in a cold room. I remember crying. I remember someone pulling a sheet back to show me a face. But was it really Matteo's face? Or was I so destroyed by grief that I saw what I expected to see?"You need to rest," Damian says from the doorway of the security room. He's been checking on me every hour, worried I'm losing my grip on reality.Maybe I am."I can't rest," I tell him, eyes fixed on the screen. "Not until I know the truth."I've been watching the conference room footage on loop. Frame by frame. Second by second. The shadow appears at 8:46:47 PM. It moves through the backgro

Luca's POVWe're halfway to the garage when every screen in the mansion lights up simultaneously. The television in the hallway. The security monitors. Even the digital displays on the thermostats. All showing the same image.Matteo's face."Wait," I tell Damian, stopping in my tracks. "He's not done."Damian curses under his breath but stops. We stand in the hallway, staring at the nearest screen. My brother looks directly at the camera, like he can see us standing here."Luca," he says, and my name in his voice makes my chest tight. "I know you're watching. I know you're planning to rush to that warehouse with Damian. Don't. I'm not there anymore. But I am here.""Here?" I repeat. "What does that mean?""I mean I'm closer than you think, little brother. I've been close this whole time. Watching. Waiting. Making sure you're okay."My hands are shaking. I press them against my thighs to steady them. "If you've been close, why didn't you just talk to me? Why all the games?""Because Da

The tailor came and went, leaving behind a wardrobe that probably cost more than my brother's funeral.Everything was dark—blacks, charcoals, deep navy. Colors that matched Damian's aesthetic. Colors that screamed his.I hated how good I looked in them.By evening, Damian led me down to the building's sublevels, past security checkpoints that required retinal scans and fingerprints, into what he called his "private facility."The gym was state-of-the-art. Weapons lined one wall behind reinforced glass—everything from knives to firearms to things I didn't have names for. Mats covered the floor. Punching bags hung like bodies from the ceiling."Strip to your waist," Damian ordered, already pulling off his shirt.I froze. "What?""You heard me." He stood there, torso bare, all carved muscle and ink and that jagged scar across his collarbone. "If you're going to survive in my world, you need to learn how to fight. Properly.""I know how to fight."His laugh was dark. "You know how to thro