Chapter 7: The Price of Loyalty
(First-Person POV: Alessia)
The silence between Matteo and me had grown heavier since the visit to the warehouse. It lingered in every room, in every fleeting glance we exchanged. On the surface, he seemed unchanged—calm, composed, and impenetrable as ever. But there was something different in the way he looked at me, as if he were studying me, waiting for some shift, some reaction I hadn't yet given him.
I couldn't stop replaying what I'd seen at the warehouse: the men working with cold precision, the hushed negotiations, the unmistakable undercurrent of fear. It wasn't just business to Matteo—it was his identity. The De Luca empire wasn't a job or even a legacy. It was a warzone he had grown accustomed to surviving in.
And yet, I couldn't decide what unsettled me more—the brutality of it all, or the fact that part of me wasn't as horrified as it should have been.
For days, Matteo was a ghost in the house. His presence was felt more in his absence—a tension that seeped into the air, making everyone else seem on edge. Even Nico, ever stoic and unreadable, seemed quieter than usual.
I tried to distract myself with small, meaningless routines. Meals I barely touched, books I skimmed without registering the words, long walks through the gardens. Anything to avoid facing the growing questions in my mind.
Why had Matteo shown me the warehouse? Was it a warning, or some twisted attempt to pull me deeper into his world?
By the fifth day, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed answers.
I found Matteo in the garden, standing by the fountain. His back was to me, hands tucked into his pockets, his posture deceptively relaxed. But even from a distance, I could feel the storm raging beneath his calm exterior.
"You've been avoiding me," I said as I approached, my voice cutting through the quiet.
He didn't turn immediately. When he did, his eyes were sharp, searching mine for something I wasn't sure he would find. "I've been busy."
"Busy with what?" I demanded, crossing my arms. "More deals? More blood?"
The words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn't regret them. If I wanted Matteo to talk, I couldn't tiptoe around him.
His jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—anger? Pain? It was gone before I could place it.
"You don't understand how this works, Alessia," he said, his tone clipped but controlled.
"Then explain it to me," I shot back, taking a step closer. "Because I'm tired of being kept in the dark. What exactly do you want from me? Why am I even here?"
His calm facade cracked, just slightly. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. "You're here because you don't have a choice."
It wasn't the answer I wanted to hear, but it was the one I had expected.
"You're here," he continued, his voice low and firm, "because your father made a deal. And that deal doesn't just involve him or me—it involves you. You're part of this now, whether you like it or not."
I stared at him, the weight of his words settling over me like a heavy cloak.
"I didn't ask for any of this," I said quietly, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay strong.
His eyes softened for a fleeting moment, but his tone remained cold. "None of us did, Alessia. But the world doesn't care what you want. It only cares about what you're willing to do to survive."
The tension between us didn't ease after that conversation. If anything, it deepened. Matteo made it clear that he wouldn't entertain my questions anymore, and I was left to wrestle with the growing realization that I had no control over what happened next.
That evening, I tried to lose myself in the library, wandering aimlessly among the rows of books. The air was heavy with the scent of leather and paper, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. For a brief moment, I felt a semblance of peace.
Until the door creaked open.
I didn't need to look up to know it was Matteo. His presence filled the room like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive.
I turned slowly, finding him standing just inside the doorway, his expression unreadable. "What now?" I asked, unable to keep the weariness from my voice.
He stepped closer, his movements deliberate. "I have something for you to do," he said, his voice calm but firm.
I raised an eyebrow. "A task?"
"Yes," he replied simply, his eyes locking onto mine.
"What's the catch?" I asked, crossing my arms.
His lips twisted into something that wasn't quite a smile. "You'll find out soon enough."
I didn't like the sound of that, but before I could argue, he added, "Nico will take you tonight. There's someone you need to meet."
My stomach tightened. "Who?"
"A contact," Matteo said, his tone giving nothing away. "Someone who can help you understand your place in all of this."
The drive to the meeting was tense and silent, Nico offering no explanation and me too wary to press him. We left the city behind, the streets growing darker and more desolate as we entered an industrial district.
When we finally arrived, Nico pulled the car into the lot of a nondescript building. It looked abandoned, its windows dark and its walls streaked with grime.
"Let's go," Nico said, stepping out of the car.
I followed him reluctantly, my heart pounding. The air was cold and still, and every instinct in me screamed to turn back.
Inside, the building was dimly lit, the smell of damp wood and stale air making my stomach churn. We walked down a narrow hallway that opened into a larger room with a single table at its center.
And sitting at that table, waiting for us, was Luca.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
Luca De Luca. Matteo's brother.
Where Matteo's coldness was subtle and restrained, Luca's was unyielding, almost feral. His sharp gaze cut through me as though he could see every secret I'd ever tried to hide.
"You're late," Luca said, his tone clipped and impatient.
"Apologies," Nico said, stepping aside to let me enter fully. "Matteo wanted her to come."
Luca's eyes flicked to me, assessing me with the same sharp intensity that Matteo always did. "Does she know?"
"No," Nico said, his voice steady.
Luca leaned back in his chair, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across his face. "Then it's time she learned."
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. "Learned what?"
Luca's smile didn't falter, but his eyes darkened. "The price of loyalty, Alessia."
My breath hitched. "And what is that price?"
Luca stood, his movements slow and calculated. He stepped closer, his presence as suffocating as Matteo's. "In this family, loyalty is paid in blood."
Before I could process his words, a door at the back of the room creaked open. A figure stepped out of the shadows, and my heart stopped.
Matteo.
But the look in his eyes was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It wasn't cold or calculating. It was something far darker.
"Matteo," I whispered, my voice trembling.
He didn't answer, his gaze locked on Luca. And in that moment, I realized I wasn't just here to learn a lesson.
I was here to witness one.
[To Be Continued…]