Chapter 14 #2
“Because you’re still breathing.” Lorenzo’s voice drops. “As long as you’re alive, Matteo, the legacy belongs to you. That is what the old families believe. That Matteo De Luca is the rightful heir. That I am just keeping the seat warm until you decide to come back.”
“I’m not coming back.”
“I can see that, but they don’t. As long as they think there is a chance, they will not fall in line. They will not accept me. They will keep waiting for you to show up and take what is yours.”
I fucking hate that he’s right because legacy is a chain, a weight, something that follows you even when you walk away. It still exists.
“So what?” I ask. “Do you want me to publicly abdicate, acknowledging that you are in charge now?”
“There are other problems. Bigger problems.”
“Like what?”
“Your father, for one. I have been keeping tabs on him,” Lorenzo continues. “Alessandro has been back in the country for weeks, building alliances and calling in favors. He is preparing for something big.”
Fuck.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know exactly. He keeps moving, staying off the grid. I have my sources who tell me things, but I have yet to have my men put eyes on him.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, because information is currency and Lorenzo doesn’t give anything away for free.
“Because I need you to understand what is at stake.” His voice is calm.
“Alessandro is coming for both of us. You because you walked away. Me because I took what he thinks is his. And when he makes his move, it is going to be brutal. It is going to be bloody. And it is going to drag everyone into a war no one is ready for.”
“So you want my help.”
“I want you to stay the fuck out of the way, Matteo, or I will kill you,” Lorenzo says, sounding less like a request and more like a command.
“Fake your fucking death if you have to. I want you to let me handle Alessandro. No matter what he does. No matter what you hear. And in exchange, I keep your location quiet. I make sure no one else comes looking.”
Leverage.
That’s what this is.
A trade.
A bargain.
The kind of deal men make when each has something the other needs and neither trusts the other enough to give it freely.
Lorenzo has the information I need. He knows my father’s movements. The information I have been struggling to find on my own without leaving breadcrumbs that lead back to this town and to the life Emery and I are trying to build.
“How will you make sure no one finds us?” I ask, because promises are cheap and information is even cheaper. I need more than his word.
“I have my sources.” Lorenzo straightens slightly, still aware of the gun in my hand.
“Turn around,” I say, needing to see his face to know whether he’s playing me or if this is real.
“What?”
“Turn around. Slowly. Keep your fucking hands where I can see them.”
Lorenzo hesitates for a second. I know he’s weighing his options, deciding if I am about to shoot or trust him.
His hands rise to shoulder height, palms open, and he turns around to face me.
“What fucking sources are you referring to?” I ask.
“I am now married to the Serrano family. Arturo’s daughter. That gives me access.”
Arturo Serrano. A slimy fucker, if there ever was one. The kind of man who smiles as he slides a knife between your ribs. Who shakes your hand and tallies your weaknesses. Who treats loyalty like a commodity to be bought and sold to the highest bidder.
“Arturo is a slimy fucker,” I say. “Watch your back and keep an eye on him. He could have sent her to gather information, get close to you, and figure out what you know and what you’re planning.”
“He already has.” Lorenzo’s voice is calm. “Arturo is already pressuring her to report back to him.”
“And?” I press. “What did she tell him?”
“She told me what her father asked and what he wanted.” Lorenzo meets my eyes and holds them there to see the certainty. “She is loyal.” He states it like a fact, as if she has proven it to him.
I lower the gun. Not all the way but just enough to show I’m listening. That I am willing to consider what he is offering, even if I don’t trust it yet.
“You’re betting your life on that,” I say. “On her. On the belief that she will not turn on you when it matters most.”
“I am betting my life on it, yes.” Lorenzo’s voice drops. “If I am wrong, Matteo, then we are both fucked.”
“Why not just kill me?” I ask. “It would be easier. One bullet, and your problem would disappear. No more questions about succession. Just you, the empire, and no one left to challenge your claim.”
Lorenzo falls silent for a moment. His eyes flick to the gun in my hand, then back to my face, reading me as I’m reading him. Just like I taught him.
“It would be easier,” he finally admits. “And that is what I came here to do.”
The words land cold. Honest.
“But you didn’t,” I say, watching him carefully.
“No,” he says. “I didn’t.”
“Why?”
A heavy loaded silence sits between us. The kind of silence that lingers too long and says more than words ever could.
Lorenzo exhales slowly. A controlled release of air that sounds like surrender.
“Because you saved my life once,” he says.
“When I was a kid. When I had nothing and was ready to put a bullet in my own head because I couldn’t live with what happened to my family.
You sat with me. You didn’t lie when I asked questions, and that kept me breathing long enough to find a reason to keep going, to hunt the man who killed my family. ”
He pauses and averts his gaze, as if making eye contact while saying this is too much for him to bear. As if admitting the debt out loud makes it real in a way he is not ready to face.
“I owe you for that, Matteo,” he continues. “And I don’t forget debts, even when paying them costs me.”
Loyalty. The thing I told him was fiction. The thing I said people only claim when they want something, angling for advantage or trying to manipulate you into letting your guard down.
And here he proves me wrong.
And yet, I protected my father’s secret for years while Lorenzo searched for answers I could have given him with a single sentence.
If he finds out now, it destroys everything. It destroys the fragile trust we just built and any chance we have of working together to survive what is on the way.
So I keep my mouth shut. Bury the truth a little deeper. Tell myself it’s strategy, a smart play in a situation where one wrong move gets us both killed.
“Emery,” I call out.
She steps out from the recessed doorway, moving with the same calm confidence she always has. One hand rests on her stomach while the other holds the knife most people don’t know she carries until it is too late.
Lorenzo’s eyes flick to her. Recognition flashes across his face.
“Hello, Lorenzo,” she says.
Lorenzo nods, a small gesture of respect.
I turn my attention back to him, to the terms that will keep us all alive long enough to matter.
“I will stay away,” I tell him. “I will stay dead while you handle the Alessandro problem.”
Lorenzo’s shoulders relax slightly.
“But,” I continue, and the tension snaps back into place. “You keep me updated on every move that fucker makes. Every alliance he builds, and every piece of information you get about where he is and what he is planning. I need to know what’s coming before it’s too late.”
“Agreed,” he says at last. “I will keep you in the loop. But you stay out of it, Matteo. No matter what you hear or how bad it gets. You do not come back or show your face. Ever. As far as the world is concerned, Matteo De Luca is dead. You let me handle it.”
“And if you can’t handle it?”
“Then you run.” His voice is cold. “You take Emery and disappear. You go somewhere even I can’t find you. If Alessandro gets past me, you will not have time to fight. You will only have time to run.”
If Lorenzo falls, we are next. And there will be no second chances. Just blood and fire and the end of everything.
Lorenzo is right.
Emery and the baby come first.
Always.
No matter who falls or how much blood is spilled in the process. They are the one thing I will not sacrifice. The reason I walked away from that world in the first place.
“Deal,” I say.
Lorenzo nods once, then extends his hand. I grasp it firmly.
For now, the deal stands, and we are allies. At least until one of us decides we are not.