Aria stared at the envelope for hours before she opened it.
She waited until the mansion was quiet, until Luciano's footsteps had faded down the hall, and until her heart calmed enough to hold steady.
The paper inside was crisp, official, sealed with her family crest.
But the contents were anything but formal.
If you're reading this, Aria,
then Cris is dead.
And I don't know who killed him—but I know who betrayed him.
Her throat tightened as she kept reading.
Your brother was working undercover. He infiltrated a faction within the D'Angelo family, trying to uncover who was leaking information to the Rossis. He was close to something big. He said someone in Luciano's inner circle wasn't loyal—someone with access to their books, movements, and shipments. Cris didn't trust Luciano, but he didn't blame him either. He thought Luciano might be in the dark, too.
The last thing Cris told me was this:
"If I disappear, start with Talon."
Aria froze.
Talon.
Luciano's right hand. The shadow who never left his side. The man who watched her like a guard dog… or a vulture.
She read the letter again. Then again.
It couldn't be true.
And yet… something in her gut twisted with recognition.
Talon had been near her brother. That day at the cemetery. That strange moment when he'd stared too long at her.
What if Talon had been feeding information to the Rossis all along?
What if Luciano's empire had been rotting from the inside?
⸻
She didn't sleep.
At dawn, she dressed in silence, hiding the letter inside her robe pocket. She walked the halls of the estate, searching, listening.
Talon wasn't in his usual places. Not by the office. Not near the cars.
She found him outside, near the east wing, speaking low into a phone.
When he saw her, his face didn't move. Not even a flicker of guilt.
"Can't sleep?" he asked.
"I could ask you the same."
He slipped the phone into his pocket. "You shouldn't be walking around alone. Not with tensions high."
Aria met his gaze evenly. "Is that a warning or a threat?"
Neither of them smiled.
⸻
Later that day, she confronted Luciano.
But not directly.
She dropped the hint like bait.
"Your crew is loyal?"
Luciano looked up from the newspaper. "To the death."
"Even Talon?"
His brow lifted. "Especially Talon."
Aria kept her face still. "What if someone close was feeding the Rossis information?"
Silence stretched.
Luciano set the paper down slowly. "That would be suicide."
"I'm just asking."
He stepped closer, suspicion tightening behind his gaze. "Why now?"
"Because I want to know who really killed my brother. And I think someone's lying to both of us."
Luciano stared at her like she'd just cracked a door he'd been trying to keep shut.
"I don't like ghosts from the past, Aria."
"Neither do I."
⸻
That night, Luciano left for an off-site meeting.
Aria stayed behind—but not idle.
She slipped into his private study, unlocked the drawer she'd watched him use a dozen times, and pulled out the files inside.
Names. Routes. Shipment logs.
And at the bottom, a worn folder marked with a single red symbol—a wolf carved through the center.
She opened it slowly.
Inside was a surveillance photo.
Her brother.
Standing with Talon.
The timestamp read two days before Cris died.
A sticky note was attached: "He knows too much."
Aria's pulse roared in her ears.
She barely heard the sound of footsteps behind her.
The door creaked open.
Aria shoved the folder back just in time.
Talon stood there, silent, unmoving.
He said nothing.
Just watched her… and smiled.