Chapter 20 Katerina
KATERINA
The cottage door opens, and Luca steps inside, looking physically and emotionally drained.
"What happened?" I ask, but Luca shakes his head, eyes darting toward Enzo's room. “Is he asleep?”
I nod. “He’s exhausted.”
We move together down the hallway, and Luca gently pushes open Enzo's door. The night light illuminates him, as he sleeps with an arm wrapped around his favorite stuffed bear.
Luca kneels beside the bed, his large hand hovering over Enzo's head before finally smoothing back a lock of hair.
"He looks so peaceful," Luca says in a low whisper. "After everything he's seen…"
"Children are resilient," I murmur, though I wonder if it's true. Will the image of his uncle dying ever fade from his memory? Of what happened tonight?
Luca rises, giving Enzo a kiss on the forehead, and then exits the room. I follow him back to the living area.
"Uncle Matty is dead," he confirms. "It was meant for Alessandro. The wine was poisoned."
My stomach churns. "Who would—"
"That's what we need to find out. Alessandro and I searched my father's office. We found the file Pyotr was after. At least we think it’s the file."
The mention of my brother sends a cold chill through me.
"It was a list of names," Luca continues. "People my father suspected were working with the Russians against him."
I sink onto the couch. "Was Pyotr on it?"
"No." Luca sits beside me, his body angled toward mine. "But there were others. Including someone named Eva Santoro. Apparently, Adriano's ex-girlfriend."
"Eva?" I remember her vaguely. A quiet, pretty girl who always seemed to be watching. "I thought she died years ago."
"That's what Alessandro said." Luca's eyes search mine with an intensity that makes me squirm. "Katerina, I need to ask you something."
I nod, bracing myself.
"Did you ever suspect Pyotr?" His voice is gentle but insistent. "Any unusual meetings, phone calls, behavior that seemed off?"
I think back to the months before Don Lorenzo's death and Pyotr's increasing absences, his vague explanations.
"He was pulling away," I admit. "Making excuses. I thought maybe he'd fallen back into drugs or gambling, but… well… I never imagined this."
Luca takes my hands in his. "You couldn't have known."
"I should have. He's my brother. We grew up together, survived together. How did I miss this?"
"Because betrayal from those we love is the hardest to see." He brings my hand to his lips, giving it a soft kiss. "We don't look for it because we don't want to find it."
A part of me wonders if he’s also speaking about us. About how I never saw his departure for what it was, a forced exile rather than abandonment.
Luca’s eyes turn wary. "But I need to be certain of something."
The shift in his tone is subtle but unmistakable, putting my nerves on edge.
"Your brother was working against my family. I need to know how much you knew."
The implication offends me. I pull my hand away. "You think I was involved?” I gape at him. “My son was kidnapped!"
"Which makes for a perfect cover." Luca's expression remains neutral. "I'm not accusing you, Katerina. I'm doing my job."
"Your job?" I stand abruptly, anger surging through me. "I've lived in this house for years. I've broken bread with your family. I've raised our son under their protection while you were gone."
Luca rises too, towering over me. "And your brother betrayed all of it."
"I am not my brother!" The words explode from me. "How dare you question my loyalty. I've defended the Dantes at every turn. I refused to help Pyotr get that file. I chose your family over my own blood!"
Fury courses through me. After everything, after opening myself to him again, after letting him into Enzo's life, this is what he thinks of me?
"I have given everything to maintain peace between our families," I continue, feeling the need to defend myself. "I've walked a tightrope for years, Luca. Years! While you were building your empire in Chicago, I was here, every day, proving myself worthy of the Dantes' trust."
Luca's jaw tightens. "People aren't always what they seem, Katerina. You, of all people, should understand that."
"Yes." The fight suddenly drains from me. "I'm learning that lesson all over again, aren't I?"
Luca’s controlled expression slips for a moment before morphing back. "You didn't tell anyone about the papers Pyotr wanted until Enzo was kidnapped. If you’re loyal to the family, why didn’t you tell anyone?"
I hate that he's right. I sink back onto the couch, strength leaving me. "I was going to. I swear I was." I press my palms against my eyes. "But it had only been hours between when he asked and when he took Enzo. I was trying to figure out what to do."
When I look up, Luca's face remains impassive, waiting for more. Waiting for the truth.
"I've spent my entire life caught between worlds," I continue. "The Bratva raised me and then I was sent here. I've never fully belonged to either side, but I've been loyal to both."
"That's not possible," Luca says, but his voice has lost its edge.
"Isn't it? I've spent years making it possible. Smoothing tensions, translating intentions, finding common ground." I shake my head. "When Pyotr came to me, I knew something was wrong. But he's my brother. The last blood family I have besides Enzo."
"Had," Luca corrects softly.
The word stings, but I nod. "Had. And despite everything he did, there's a part of me that grieves him. Does that make me disloyal to you? To the Dantes?"
Luca sits beside me again, closer this time. "No. It makes you human."
"I never would have betrayed either family.
That's not who I am." I turn to face him fully.
"I was trying to find a way to confront Pyotr, to understand what he was doing without destroying everything.
I thought I had time." But Luca is right about one thing.
My decisions nearly got my son killed. "I was wrong.
And Enzo paid the price for my hesitation. "
Something in Luca's expression shifts, the hardness melting into sympathy. His hand finds mine again, and this time, our fingers intertwine.
"You were caught in an impossible position," he says. "I understand impossible choices, Katerina. I believe you.”
His words are a relief. "Thank you.”
“Has anyone with the Morozovas reached out to you?”
“No.”
“With Pyotr gone, they must have questions—”
“I said, no.” But it is odd.
I can only imagine that they’ve decided I’m too much on the side of the Dantes, especially with the truth about Enzo’s father now being in the open.
Luca studies me for a moment, probably looking for signs of deception. He won’t find any. I’m telling the truth.
He gives a small nod. "Lorenzo had been keeping it for months before his death. Names, dates, suspicious activities. I need to know if you recognize anyone besides Eva."
He pulls a folded paper from his jacket pocket and spreads it on the coffee table between us. In Lorenzo's handwriting, nearly a dozen names are listed down the page with notations beside each.
"Lorenzo believed they were working with the Russians. Some are business associates, some are staff, some I've never even heard of."
I scan the names, searching my memory for anything useful.
My heart sinks as each name either means nothing to me or represents people I'd never have suspected.
"I'm sorry, Luca. I don't recognize most of these people." I shake my head in frustration. "Danny Bellini? He'd been your father's driver for years. And Antonio Costa has managed shipments since before I arrived. They’re both up in age. I can't imagine either of them betraying the family."
Luca's jaw tightens. "That's what makes this so dangerous. If Lorenzo was right, we've been compromised from the inside for years."
"What about this one?" I point to a name near the bottom. "Franco Vieri. The name sounds familiar, but I can't place him."
“I don’t know. I have a couple of men I plan to look into first. I’ll add him.”
I stare at the list, feeling useless. "I wish I could help more. Living here doesn't mean I was privy to everything."
Luca nods, disappointment flickering across his face though he tries to hide it. He folds the paper, tucking it away.
"What about Eva?" I ask. "What did Lorenzo suspect her of?"
"Information trafficking. Dates, locations of shipments. All the things the Bratva would need to intercept our deliveries."
"If she was feeding information to the Russians all that time, Adriano would be devastated," I say, remembering he seemed head over heels for her.
Luca's face darkens. "Alessandro says Adriano loved her. When she died, he changed. Became harder, more ruthless."
I shrug, feeling useless. "I'm sorry I couldn't be more help."
"You've helped more than you know."
"What now?" I ask, feeling like we’re sitting on a powder keg and any move could ignite disaster.
"Now I investigate every name on this list. I find the mole." His voice turns hard. "Someone in this house is responsible for your brother's actions, Uncle Matty's death, and probably my father's murder too."
The determination burning in his eyes both comforts and terrifies me.
This is Luca at his most focused.
A man who won't stop until he gets what he wants. It's what I admired about him years ago and what makes him so dangerous now.
“I’m glad you’re staying. Enzo needs protection right now.” What I don’t say is how I need it too. If Luca was suspicious of me, the rest of the family will be too. "I'm scared, Luca. This house is becoming a battlefield.”
"I won't let anything happen to you or Enzo," he says fiercely.
"That's not a promise anyone can keep." I stand and pace the small living room.
He rises, crossing to me in two swift strides. His hands cup my face with gentleness. “What’s going on?”
“You’re in danger too.” I hate how much I’ve come to need him when my goal had been to keep him at arm’s length.
And now he’s going to find a mole who has killed two and whose actions led to Enzo’s kidnapping and my brother’s death.
Luca hasn’t made any promises to me. But there’s definitely no future if he’s killed.
He nods. “I’m good at what I do.”
I practically roll my eyes. I don’t doubt him, but plenty of people who are good at what they do in this world end up dead. Lorenzo is one of many examples.
And of course, he could still leave.
He has his own life in Chicago.
One I know nothing about, I realize.
He’s never told me anything about it.
For all I know, he’s married.
“What is going on in there?” he says, tapping my temple.
“A lot.” I look into his steely gaze. "Find whoever did this. But promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"When this is over, whatever happens, be honest with me. If you're leaving again, just tell me. Don't disappear."
His thumb traces my cheekbone. "I promise."
I don't know if I believe him. But for now, it's enough.
"And be careful. These people have already killed your father and your uncle. They won't hesitate to come after you next."
A dangerous glint flickers in his eyes. "I've been handling dangerous people since before I left New York."
"That's what worries me. You've always been too fearless for your own good."
"I'll be careful," he promises. "I have more to lose now than I did back then."
I want to believe it means something. And it does. He’s invested in Enzo. But it doesn’t mean he’s planning to stay forever.
"It's strange," he says, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Not so long ago, you could barely stand to be in the same room as me. Now you're worried about my safety."
This time, I do roll my eyes. "I'm worried about Enzo losing his father right after meeting him."
"Is that all?" His eyebrow arches, his cockiness returning. He shifts closer, the energy between us shifting to something more sensual.
"You're impossible," I mutter, but there's no heat behind my words. Not when his hands are pulling me closer.
"That’s what you love about me.”
Love. God help me, I do.
Before I can formulate a cutting response, he leans forward and captures my lips with his.
The kiss is slow, deep, filled with intention.
My hands find their way to his chest, where I can feel his heartbeat.
For a moment, the world around us falls away.
No Bratva, no traitors.
Just us, finding our way back to each other for however much time we have.
I melt against him, letting down my guard.
Our lips are fused as he guides me to my room, and slowly he undresses me.
As he lays me on the bed, his lips and hands doing delicious things to me, my head spins with mixed emotions.
Fear and hope, desire and doubt.
There’s an overwhelming sense of dread that my time with Luca is short.
Someway, somehow, I’m going to lose him again.