Chapter Twenty-Four
Matteo sat beside Isla in the safe house, his fingers tight around hers. Her breathing was shallow, her face unnervingly pale, but she was stable. He had never been a man to beg, never a man to feel powerless. But as he watched her, he realized he would burn the world to keep her breathing.
Luca stepped inside, his gaze flicking between Matteo and Isla before he let out a quiet sigh. "She’s strong. She’ll make it."
Matteo nodded but didn’t speak. He had seen strong men die in seconds, had watched power slip through fingers like sand. Strength alone wouldn’t save her. This wasn’t about being strong anymore. It was about being ruthless, about cutting out the rot before it could fester further.
"The villa is secure," Luca continued. "I’ve flushed out the traitors. They’re waiting in the basement."
Matteo’s jaw clenched. He had suspected there were men working against him, but now there was proof. "And Enzo?"
Luca cursed under his breath. "He set this up. Thought tonight would be the end of you. He’s been playing the long game, waiting for you to make a mistake." He hesitated for a moment before continuing, his gaze darkening. "And there's something else, Matteo. I can't shake the feeling that he wasn’t working alone. What if Enzo wasn’t just after you? What if he was working with Leonardo Marino?"
Matteo let out a slow breath, his fists tightening at his sides. "Not yet. But I need to find out before he makes another move. If she hadn’t been there, it might have been."
Luca studied him carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly. "She saved you."
Matteo nodded once, his throat tightening. "And that means they’ll come for her next."
Luca exhaled, his sharp gaze locking onto Matteo’s. "Then we hit back. Hard. But what about her?"
Matteo looked back at Isla, something dark and unrelenting settling in his chest. "She saved my life tonight. And now she’s part of this, whether she wants to be or not."
Luca hesitated. "You think she’ll stay? After everything?"
Matteo didn’t answer right away. He had spent so long convincing himself he didn’t need her, that she was just another piece on the board. But as he watched her, fragile but still fighting, he knew the truth.
"I won’t give her a choice," he admitted finally. "I can’t let her go."
Luca let out a dry chuckle. "You realize that’s not how trust works, right?"
Matteo’s lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Trust isn’t what I’m asking for."
A low groan came from the cot. Both men turned as Isla stirred, her fingers twitching against the blanket. Matteo was beside her in an instant, his breath caught in his throat as her eyes fluttered open.
She blinked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. "We made it."
Matteo exhaled, the tension in his body easing just slightly. "Yeah, we did."
Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something more, but exhaustion pulled her under again. Matteo brushed his fingers along her forehead before turning back to Luca.
"Get the car ready. We take her home."
Luca nodded, stepping out to make the call. Matteo lifted Isla carefully, cradling her against his chest as he carried her out of the safe house and into the waiting car. The drive back to the villa was tense, Matteo’s mind running through the names of every man who had hesitated, every loyalty that had suddenly seemed uncertain.
By the time they reached the villa, Luca’s men had secured the traitors in the basement. Matteo carried Isla inside, his jaw tight as he ignored the guards’ curious glances. "No one disturbs this room," he ordered as he laid her onto the bed. "Anyone who tries answers to me."
The doctors worked quickly, stitching up the wound and administering painkillers. One of the doctors turned to Matteo. "She lost a lot of blood, but she’ll recover. She needs rest. No stress."
Matteo nodded, though he knew stress was inevitable. He sat beside her bed, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, memorizing every twitch of her fingers, every flutter of her lashes. He had almost lost her. And he wouldn’t let that happen again.
Outside, Luca was waiting. He gathered the names of the men who had betrayed them, confirming every suspicion Matteo had harbored for weeks. They had planned this from within, waiting for the right moment to turn. Enzo had promised them power, but they had underestimated Matteo’s reach.
"They’re all there," Luca said, his voice low. "Tied up and waiting."
Matteo nodded once. "Then let’s go have a conversation."
Luca’s smirk was grim. "They won’t be talking for long."
Matteo walked through the halls of his villa, his steps deliberate, every move calculated. The men who had betrayed him had made their choice. Now, it was his turn to make his.
He entered the basement, where five of his men knelt, their hands bound behind them, their faces pale with the realization that their fate had already been sealed.
"You had your chance," Matteo said, his voice even, his eyes cold. "Now, you’ll pay the price."
Each man began speaking at once—pleas, excuses, desperate attempts at self-preservation. Matteo didn’t care. He had already made up his mind.
One by one, the men met their end. It was swift, efficient, leaving no room for weakness. When the last body fell, Matteo exhaled slowly, wiping the blood from his hands with practiced indifference. But something nagged at him—something that made him pause before heading back upstairs.
He turned to Luca. "What if Enzo wasn’t acting alone?"
Luca frowned. "We already suspect he worked with Leonardo."
Matteo’s eyes darkened. "Then why didn’t Leonardo make a move before tonight? Why did he wait until Isla was in danger to reveal his hand?"
Luca hesitated. "You think there’s someone else?"
Matteo’s jaw tightened. "I think we’ve only seen part of the game. And if I’m right, we’re not done yet."
He turned back toward the stairs, his focus already shifting. Isla was upstairs, recovering, and soon she would wake up with questions. He needed to be there. Needed her to understand that this wasn’t just about revenge. This was about survival.
The war wasn’t coming.
It had already begun.