Chapter Nine
The safe house reeked of gasoline, rust, and secrets. Morning sunlight filtered in through narrow slits between the boards Arturo had nailed over the windows, casting thin lines of light across the concrete floor. The silence inside wasn't peaceful—it was calculated, like the pause before a predator pounced.
Alex stood by the sink, rinsing blood from his knuckles. The encounter with Niko had left more than bruises—it had left a warning. One too close to home.
He glanced toward the back room where Sophia still slept, curled in on herself, one arm tucked under her head. Her dark hair fanned across the pillow like ink. She looked peaceful—too peaceful. It made something in his chest twist.
But peace didn't last.
The knock was soft. Two short, one long. A pattern only Diego would use.
Alex opened the door without a word.
Diego stepped inside, shutting it quickly behind him. His eyes were sharp, jaw tight. He tossed a file onto the table.
"You were right. About the leak."
Alex picked up the file, flipping it open. Surveillance photos, financial transfers, wiretaps. He stopped cold in the last photo.
Bianca Rivas—Carlo's missing assistant. But not missing.
Alive.
And sitting in a café across from Matteo Russo.
Alex's voice dropped. "When was this taken?"
"Yesterday morning. Just before she vanished again. Matteo didn't stay long. Left through the back and took her with him."
Alex closed the file with a snap. "They're cleaning house."
Diego nodded. "We're next."
Footsteps behind them. Sophia.
She stood at the hallway's edge, wearing one of Arturo's flannel shirts over her clothes. Her expression was guarded.
"Bad time?" she asked softly.
Alex stared at her, trying to read the subtext in her eyes. "You tell me."
Diego looked between them. "I'll give you two a minute."
When he left, the silence grew thick.
Sophia moved closer, glancing at the file still in Alex's hands. "Another body?"
"Not yet. But it's coming."
She didn't flinch. "You don't trust me."
"I'd be a fool if I did."
Sophia crossed her arms. "Then why did you take me with you?"
"Because I didn't want you dead. Yet."
She arched a brow. "Yet?"
"You're still an unknown." Alex's voice was steady, low. "You show up right after Carlo dies. You have no proof about this project you claim you're attached to. And now we find out the Russos are moving pieces behind the scenes—using women like Bianca."
Sophia's mouth tightened. "I'm not Bianca."
"No," Alex said. "You're not."
She looked down, something flickering in her eyes. Regret? Pain? Or something else entirely?
"I didn't come here to hurt you," she said quietly. "I came here because someone I cared about died. And I thought… maybe you cared too."
Alex stared at her. "I did."
The air between them crackled with everything unsaid.
Before either could speak again, Diego burst in.
"We've got company. Black SUV just pulled into the alley."
Alex moved instantly, grabbing the duffel bag stashed near the door and tossing Sophia a pistol. "You know how to use that?"
She cocked it with practiced ease. "Better than most."
They moved fast, slipping through the back. Diego led them to the maintenance tunnel Arturo had dug years ago—an emergency exit for smuggling clients no one was supposed to know about.
The tunnel was dark and narrow, the air thick with dust and mildew. Sophia kept pace beside Alex, gun steady, face set.
"What now?" she asked.
"We find out what Bianca told them," Alex said. "And if she's still alive—we get to her before they don't need her anymore."
"And if it's a trap?"
He gave her a grim look. "Then we spring it first."
They emerged two blocks over, blending into the morning crowd near the industrial docks. The sky overhead was the color of ash.
Alex's burner phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: You're late.
He frowned. "Someone wants a meeting."
Sophia glanced at the screen. "Do you know who?"
"No. But I'm betting they know me."
—
The location turned out to be an old warehouse on the fringe of Russo-controlled territory. Too exposed. Too perfect. But they went anyway.
Diego stayed behind with backup while Alex and Sophia entered through the main floor. The warehouse was mostly empty—except for a lone figure standing in the center beneath a hanging bulb.
It was Luca Romano.
Sophia's breath hitched. "My cousin."
Alex's blood turned to ice.
Luca stepped forward, hands raised. "I'm not here to hurt you, Sophia. I came to warn you."
"Warn her?" Alex echoed. "About what?"
"About your father," Luca said, eyes locked on Sophia. "He's not who you think he is."
Alex's heart dropped. "What do you mean?"
Luca swallowed hard. "Carlo's death wasn't ordered by the Russos. It was orchestrated from within the Morano family."
Silence.
Sophia blinked. "That's not possible."
"It is," Luca said. "And they're going to pin it all on Alex."
Alex felt the world tilt beneath him. "Who gave the order?"
Luca looked directly at him. "Your brother. Dominic."
Sophia gasped.
Alex's fists clenched. "Why?"
"To take control. He thinks you're weak. Distracted. That you'll throw the family into war because of… her."
Sophia looked stricken.
Luca added, "You're both running out of time. The next move—they're going to take you off the board. Both of you."
Alex stared at him. "Why help us?"
Luca's voice broke. "Because this isn't what our families were meant to become."
He stepped back. "You didn't hear this from me. You never saw me."
And then he was gone.
Alex turned to Sophia. Her face was pale. Her hands trembled. But her voice was steady.
"Is it true? About Dominic?"
Alex didn't answer at first. Just stared at the ground.
"I don't know."
But deep down—he did.
The betrayal had begun.
And the war wasn't coming.
It had already started.