Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Alessio
A fter our shower we head to bed, but sleep doesn't find me easily. I toss until the wee hours of the morning, but even then, I only sleep for two hours before I hear a low buzz.
The vibration of my phone jolts me awake. The apartment is still dark, the faint hum of the city outside the only sound. I reach for the phone on the nightstand, squinting at the screen.
Matteo.
My chest tightens as I stare at his name, the anger I thought I'd buried bubbling up again like a slow burn.
The message is simple, but it pulls me out of bed like a rope around my neck.
"Meet me. East side, Central Park. Alone."
I sit up slowly, careful not to make any noise. I glance over my shoulder. Sophia is still asleep, curled on her side, the blankets rising and falling with her steady breath. This is something I have to do alone.
I slip out of bed, moving silently as I grab my jeans and boots from the chair in the corner. The room feels colder than before, the weight of what I'm about to do sitting heavy on my shoulders. I don't trust Matteo. I shouldn't trust him.
But I need answers.
I pause at the door, looking back at Sophia one last time. She doesn't stir, and I'm glad for it. She needs rest, and I need to go and not try and kill my former friend.
The drive to Central Park feels longer than it is. The streets are empty at this hour, the orange glow of streetlights casting long shadows against the pavement. My hands grip the wheel tightly, the quiet in the car only making the storm in my chest worse.
Matteo's face flashes through my mind—his words, his betrayal, the gunfire in the warehouse. I can't get the image out of my head. I trusted him. I fought beside him. And he threw it all away.
For what?
The anger burns hot in my veins, but underneath it is something else, something I don't want to admit. A fracture I don't want to see. Matteo wasn't just a soldier to me. He was a friend. Someone I thought would have my back no matter what.
I should've known better.
I park two blocks away from the park entrance, killing the engine and sitting there for a moment. The quiet is suffocating. I check the gun at my side, sliding it into the holster under my jacket, then step out of the car. The air is cold, sharp against my face as I walk through the empty streets.
Central Park is quiet this early—dark and still, the kind of silence that makes you feel like you're the only person left in the world. I move quickly, my boots barely making a sound against the path as I make my way to the east side.
The bench Matteo mentioned comes into view. A lone figure sits there, hunched forward, his elbows on his knees. Matteo.
The sight of him sends my anger boiling over. He looks up as I approach, his face partially hidden under the brim of his cap, but I know it's him.
I stop a few feet away, my fists clenching at my sides. "You've got some nerve calling me."
Matteo raises his hands slightly, palms up, like he's surrendering. "You came, didn't you?"
I grit my teeth, the sight of his calm face only making me angrier. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't put a bullet in you right now."
"Because you'd regret it," he says simply. "You don't shoot a man until you know the whole story."
I step closer, my eyes locked on him. "You betrayed me. You betrayed Sophia . What the hell could you possibly say to make that right?"
Matteo exhales slowly, leaning back against the bench. "You think I wanted to do that? You think I had a choice?"
"You always have a choice."
"No," he speaks sharply, cutting through the air like a knife. "Not when my sister's life is on the line."
I freeze, his words hitting me like a punch to the gut. That's right, he mentioned that before.
"What?"
Matteo rubs a hand over his face, his shoulders sagging. "Domenico has her. He's had her for weeks, Alessio. If I didn't give him something, if I didn't act like I was on his side, he would've killed her."
I stare at him, my jaw tight, my mind trying to process what he's saying.
"And what about us?" I demand. "What about Sophia? You sold us out, Matteo. Do you have any idea what you almost cost us?"
"I knew you'd get out," Matteo says, his eyes meeting mine now, fierce and unflinching. "I didn't want it to go that far. But I needed Domenico to trust me. I needed to get close enough to learn what he was planning."
"And what did you learn?"
Matteo's expression hardens, his hands curling into fists. "He's moving them tonight."
I frown. "Moving who?"
"The kids," Matteo says. "The ones he's been trafficking. I've got the route. I know exactly where they'll be and when. It's a convoy, small but guarded. We can intercept it, but we have to move fast."
For a moment, I don't say anything. My mind races, processing his words, his confession. I want to hate him—I do hate him—but now I see the truth. Matteo didn't betray us out of greed or ambition. He did it because Domenico forced his hand.
And he did it to keep his sister alive.
"This doesn't make us even," I say finally, with an edge to my voice. "Not by a long shot."
Matteo nods slowly, like he expected that answer. "I know."
"But you're coming with us," I continue, stepping closer, my tone leaving no room for argument. "You're going to help us stop that convoy. And if you even think about screwing us over again?—"
"I won't," Matteo says firmly, cutting me off. "I swear it, Alessio. I made a promise to her father. I told him I'd protect Sophia, and I'm not breaking that vow now. Not after everything."
The mention of Sophia's father sends a jolt through me, and I narrow my eyes at him. "You're sure about this intel?"
"Yeah," Matteo replies. "I got it straight from Domenico's mouth. It's happening tonight."
I take a deep breath, the weight of the situation settling over me. This is bigger than Matteo's betrayal, bigger than my anger. It's about stopping Domenico and saving those kids.
"We'll need weapons," I say, my mind already working through the details. "A car. A clean route out."
"I'll handle it," Matteo says, standing now. "I'll meet you in two hours. Bring Sophia."
I glare at him, the anger still simmering in my chest. "You don't get to call the shots."
"Fair enough," Matteo says with a faint smirk. "But we don't have time to waste, Alessio. You know I'm right."
I don't respond. I just watch as he walks away, disappearing into the shadows of the park, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The anger is still there, burning hot, but now it's tangled with something else—hope. If Matteo's telling the truth, this might be our chance.
I turn back toward the car, my jaw set.
It's time to move.
The apartment is quiet when I slip back inside, but the calm feels brittle, ready to snap. I shut the door behind me, locking it quietly before shrugging off my jacket. My mind is still racing, Matteo's words echoing in my head, but I push them aside. Right now, I need to figure out how to tell Sophia.
I take a step toward the bedroom, and that's when I see her.
Sophia is sitting up in bed, the faint light from the window casting soft shadows on her face. She looks wide awake—her arms crossed, her expression unreadable, though I can see the irritation simmering just beneath the surface.
"You're back," she says flatly.
I stop mid-step, caught. I was careful, quiet, but of course she noticed I was gone. Sophia misses nothing.
"You couldn't sleep?" I ask, trying to gauge her mood.
She arches an eyebrow, her tone sharp. "Don't act like I'm the one sneaking around. Where were you, Alessio?"
I don't answer right away, scrubbing a hand over my face as I lean against the wall. I'm exhausted, my anger still simmering, but the last thing I want is to fight with her right now.
She doesn't wait for me to speak. "You were meeting someone, weren't you?" she presses. "Who?"
I exhale slowly, bracing myself. "Matteo."
Her eyes narrow instantly, and she throws back the blankets, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "You met with Matteo ? After everything he did? After he nearly got us killed?"
"Keep it down," I mutter, though I know it's pointless. Her words hit like rapid fire, but I don't flinch. I expected this.
She stands, pulling on a sweater and shoving her hair out of her face, her anger flashing brighter now. "No. You don't get to tell me to calm down, Alessio. You met with him, alone, and didn't think I deserved to know?"
"I didn't want to wake you," I reply with a hardness. "And I needed answers."
"And what did you get? Another betrayal? Another lie?"
"No." I push off the wall, stepping toward her. "Matteo's not what we thought he was."
Sophia freezes, her expression shifting, though her guard is still up. "What does that mean?"
"He's been playing double agent," I say, watching her carefully. "Domenico has his sister, Sophia. He's been using her as leverage, forcing Matteo to act like he's on his side. Matteo's been working from the inside—feeding Domenico what he wants to hear while gathering intel for us."
She stares at me, her anger giving way to confusion. "His sister?"
I nod. "He had no choice. He says he's got the route—the one Domenico's using to move the kids tonight."
Sophia's expression hardens, the shift in her clear. The anger is still there, but now it's laced with determination. She moves closer. "And you believe him?"
"I don't know if I do," I admit, my jaw tightening. "But if there's a chance we can stop that convoy and save those kids, I'm not ignoring it."
She holds my stare, her eyes searching mine for a long moment. Finally, she exhales, her shoulders relaxing slightly, though the fire in her eyes doesn't dim. "What's the plan?"
I frown. " We'll figure it out. You're staying here."
Her head snaps up. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," I say. "It's too dangerous, Sophia. Matteo's intel could be a trap for all we know. I'll handle this."
"No."
The sharpness that comes from her is clear, final, and she steps even closer, her jaw set in that way that tells me there's no changing her mind. "I'm not staying here while you run off to handle this alone, Alessio."
"You don't understand?—"
"No, you don't understand," she cuts me off, her tone rising. "This is my fight, too. Those kids, Domenico's entire operation, it's my responsibility as much as yours. I won't sit on the sidelines while you put yourself at risk."
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to hold back the frustration building inside me. "It's not about you sitting on the sidelines. It's about keeping you alive."
"And what happens if something goes wrong?" she challenges. She trembles slightly with emotion. "If Matteo's lying? If it is a trap? Do you think I can just live with myself if you don't come back?"
The words hang heavy in the air, cutting through me more than I want to admit. I look at her then, really look at her—the anger in her eyes, the fear she's trying so hard to hide.
"I'm not losing you, Alessio," she whispers, but no less firm. "So if you're going, I'm going."
I stare at her for a long moment, my mind battling against itself. I don't want her anywhere near this, but I know Sophia. There's no talking her out of it. She's not the same woman who stood by quietly, letting others make decisions for her. She's stronger now. Tougher.
And she's right.
This is her fight, too.
"Fine," I say finally, the word escaping me like a sigh. "But you do exactly what I say. No arguments."
Sophia nods, her expression unyielding. "Deal."
I don't move for a second, just standing there, letting it sink in. We're running into a situation that could get us both killed. But I can see it in her eyes—she's not afraid. She's ready.
"Get dressed," I command. "We don't have much time."
Sophia doesn't hesitate, already moving to grab her clothes. I watch her for a moment before turning away, grabbing my gear and checking my gun. My mind keeps spinning. It's happening tonight.
If he's telling the truth, this might be our only shot at stopping Domenico's operation.
And if he's lying…
I glance back at Sophia, her face set with determination as she pulls on her boots. No matter what happens tonight, I'll make sure she makes it out.
Even if I don't.