Chapter 21
LUCA
I run my hand through my hair, staring at the warehouse from my car parked up the road.
Three days since Matty dropped dead at the dinner table, and I'm still chasing shadows.
The list my father left behind has led me down one dead end after another.
Fatigue burns behind my eyes, but I can't stop now.
Whoever poisoned that wine was aiming for Alessandro.
If they succeed next time, chaos follows.
I take another sip of cold coffee, focusing on the building as Marco Fabrizi shows up like clockwork.
Number four on my father's list, he slips from his car, glancing over his shoulder like he's expecting someone to catch him.
He's been with the family for nearly a decade but never made it to the inner circle.
"What are you hiding, Marco?" I mutter as I watch him park.
He's been doing this for three nights now, arriving at noon, staying for exactly forty-seven minutes, then leaving with nothing visible in his hands.
But something's being exchanged.
I'm sure of it.
Marco disappears into the warehouse, and I reach for my jacket. I've been watching long enough.
Time to get my hands dirty.
This mole, whoever they are, threatens everything I'm fighting to rebuild with Katerina and my son.
I'm not losing them again.
Not to Alessandro's suspicion, not to the Bratva's threats, and certainly not to some rat selling us out from the inside.
Marco Fabrizi doesn't know it yet, but he's about to tell me everything he knows, one way or another.
I trail Marco through the maze of shipping containers, staying silent. He stops and checks his watch. Classic nervous tic.
The side door creaks open. A figure slips inside. Even in the dim light, I recognize Alexei Ivanov. He’d been a punk kid when I left, but now I know he’s a Bratva lieutenant who's been climbing ranks.
My blood runs cold. One of our own, meeting with them. I’m on the verge of breaking this thing open.
I edge closer, staying in shadow as they exchange hushed words. A thick envelope changes hands, Marco to Alexei, that Alexei tucks inside his jacket.
"The shipment details for next Tuesday," Marco says. "And building access codes."
"Good." Alexei nods. "I’ll let our friend know how well you’ve done."
Friend? My mind races.
Marco isn't the mastermind. He’s just another pawn.
So who’s the friend?
Is he a Dante or a Morozova?
I have to consider that my father’s list wasn’t a list of suspects, but perhaps a network of traitors, and someone close to us is pulling the strings.
"Tell him the youngest Dante is getting suspicious," Marco continues. "Asking questions about old business."
Alexei's face hardens. "We'll handle Adriano."
Hearing them target my brother makes me want to shoot them both here and now, but one thing I’ve learned over the years is rash decisions can backfire. No, I need to wait.
To learn more.
I can warn Adriano.
Seeing enough, I pull my phone from my pocket and snap several photos of their exchange before retreating.
I return to my car and wait for Marco to leave.
I’ll follow him to see where he heads next.
I don’t have to wait long.
I give him a short head start before I follow him, weaving through late night streets.
It isn’t long before I realize he’s heading to the Dante estate. The guy has some serious balls, I’ll admit that.
I don’t follow him into the gate. Instead, I drive past, make a U-Turn at the next available spot, and then head to the Dante property.
Marco is parked around the site to access the wing of the house used for business. I park there as well and sprint up the steps. I slow my approach, entering the house quietly, ears opened to access what’s going on before barging in.
"—Tuesday's shipment is settled,” Marco reports. “But I wonder if we should delay it.”
“Why would we do that?” says a familiar voice. Too familiar.
“It's risky with Luca watching everything so closely and Adriano asking questions.”
I flatten against the wall, peering around the corner. Marco stands with his back to me and across from him…
My blood freezes in my veins.
Victorio. My oldest friend. The one person I trusted without question.
He leans casually against a desk, examining a document in his hand. "Don't worry about Luca. I've known him since we were kids. I know exactly how he thinks."
Mother fucker. I straighten against the wall to rein in my shock and utter rage.
My oldest friend is betraying my family.
He’s been playing me.
He’d not only tried to poison my brother, but now I’m sure he planned for me to die in the ambush.
I have to consider that he blew up my father as well.
I hear movement and realize Marco is coming my way.
I slip into the shadows just as he turns the corner.
He moves into the kitchenette set up for the men while they’re working on the property.
He’s alone in there and I decide to deal with him now.
I cross the threshold in three silent steps, gun already drawn.
Marco's back is still to me as pours a cup of coffee.
"You've been busy tonight."
Marco’s shoulders tense, and his hand twitches toward his waistband.
"Don't," I warn, poking him between the shoulder blades with my weapon. "I watched your little meeting with Alexei. Very cozy."
“You didn’t see what you thought you saw.”
“So you think I’m stupid?” I take his gun and then I grip him by the back of his coat and lead him out of the kitchen.
There’s a closet just outside where I’ll stash him until I deal with Victorio.
“What are you doing?”
“If you have to ask me, then you’re the stupid one.” I open the closet door and shove him in. He spins around, his hands up like I’m robbing him.
Before he can say anything, I shoot him square between the eyes.
I shut the door and move quickly back to the shadows, waiting to see if anyone heard the shot.
Sure enough, Victorio hurries around the corner. “Woah, Luca… What’s going on?”
I turn my gun toward him. “You tell me. I just saw your friend meeting with Alexei Ivanov and then with you.”
Victorio has the good sense to look worried. But he quickly recovers, his expression smoothing into something casual. "Luca, this isn't what it looks like—"
"Save it." The good thing about betrayal is that it kills any good feelings you might have had for someone. A few minutes ago, the thought of killing my friend was untenable. Now? He’ll be dead before the day is done. "I heard enough."
Victorio shifts his weight, preparing to run or fight. "We've known each other since we were kids, Luca. Let me explain."
"You'll explain." I remove all weapons from him, a gun and knife, and then push him toward the back stairwell. "Just not here."
“The others will look for me."
"They'll find what's left." I can’t fucking believe it’s come to this. "We were brothers once.”
"That's why this will hurt you more than it hurts me," Victorio replies.
"I wouldn't count on that."
As we’re about to reach the back stairs, Alessandro rounds the corner from the other direction. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“I found two moles.”
“Don Dante, you know I’d never—”
“Save it,” I snap.
Adriano appears behind Alessandro, his eyes wide with surprise to see me with a gun to Victorio’s back. "Luca?"
“Marco is dead in the closet after I found him handing over info for a shipment on Tuesday. Then he came back and reported to this shithead.” I glance at Adriano. “You’re in their sights, little brother. You need to watch your back.”
“Is this true?” Alessandro asks Victorio.
I glare at him. Is he really questioning me? I don’t let Victorio answer. I simply push him through the door and down the stairs to the little room we use to get information and dispose of nuisances and threats.
I shove him inside. "Sit."
He complies, and I secure his wrists to the chair arms with zip ties as Alessandro and Adriano enter the room behind us.
I reach for the tools laid out on the small metal table, choosing a small blade. I slide it under Victorio’s fingernail.
“You fucking really going to do this?” It’s the first real sign of fear I’ve seen from him.
“Luca—” Alessandro starts.
"He's the mole," I say, twisting the blade slightly. Victorio hisses through clenched teeth. "Marco Fabrizi met with Alexei Ivanov tonight and reported that meeting to Victorio.” I shouldn’t have to repeat myself. Not with my brothers.
Alessandro steps into my peripheral vision. "And now you're—what? Taking matters into your own hands?"
"We don't even know if he's guilty,” Adriano adds.
I laugh even though I’m pissed. “You charged me with finding the mole and now that I have, you’re questioning me?”
Victorio's eyes flick between us, and I know he sees the fissures between us. "This is insane. I was debriefing Marco about—"
The blade sinks deeper. His words dissolve into a strangled scream.
"Stop!" Adriano grabs my shoulder. "This isn't how to handle this."
I shake him off, fury coursing through me. "This is exactly how we handle traitors. Or have you forgotten?"
“We should discuss—”
I turn the full force of my rage on them. "You should be dead, especially if this is how you pussyfoot around traitors. How many more Dantes have to die before you find your balls and do what needs to be done?”
Alessandro’s expression turns lethal.
I nod, glad to see he can at least look like a Don. “Yes, that’s what you need, but it should be directed at this asshole who killed our father and nearly killed you.”
"Listen to your brothers, Luca. This isn't you." The familiarity in Victorio’s tone snaps what little restraint I have left. I slam the knife down, impaling his hand to the chair arm. His scream is primal.
I wait for Alessandro to do whatever he’s going to do.
Before he can, Victorio blurts out, "Fine! I've been feeding them information for years! Since before the old man died!"
Alessandro steps back as if physically struck.
"Why?" I demand, twisting the blade. "After everything my family did for you?"
"Because your father was a relic!" Blood drips from his hand. "The Bratva offered me a future. A way into something bigger than this family's petty squabbles."
Adriano's face turns to stone. "The wine at dinner—”
Victorio spits, eyes wild now. "If your idiot uncle hadn’t been so stupid, Alessandro would be rotting in the ground with your father."
The room goes silent. I look at my brothers' faces, finally showing the same fury I feel.
"He was like a brother to me," I say, the knife remaining embedded in Victorio’s hand. "More than either of you ever were."
That’s what’s so fucked up about all this.
When Alessandro and my father cast me out, when Adriano stood by and watched it happen, Victorio was the one who slipped me cash.
Who secretly called to check that I'd landed on my feet.
Who sent word about Dante business long after I should have stopped caring.
Or so I thought.
"Every call, every piece of intel…" I stare into Victorio's eyes, searching for some remnant of the friend who once took a beating meant for me. "It was all just to keep tabs on me, wasn't it? To make sure I stayed away?"
For the first time, I see pain in Victorio’s eyes that isn’t physical. “If you’d come back, this wouldn’t be happening. You should be the Don, and everyone knows it.” He glances at Alessandro. “Even Lorenzo knew it.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” I twist the knife again. “Don’t put this on me. You’re a fucking traitor to all of us.”
Alessandro moves beside me. "The shipment routes. The security protocols. The names of our allies. You handed it all over."
"And I'd do it again.” Victorio sneers. "Your father's empire was dying long before I put the bomb in his car."
The confession lands like the bomb that killed my father.
"You son of a bitch."
Adriano steps forward. "We'll need names. Everyone he's been working with."
I nod, grappling with the thought that there was a time when I would have chosen Victorio over my own blood.
When his word carried more weight than Alessandro's orders or Adriano's warnings.
The three of us stand shoulder to shoulder now.
I glance at my brothers' faces, seeing my own shock and rage mirrored there. I suppose I should be grateful to Victorio.
His betrayal has united the Dante brothers.
God help anyone who stands against us.