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Chapter 7 - Poisoned Blade

The morning air smelled strongly of wet stone as I walked onto the Serafino courtyard patio. Breakfast was intended to be a symbol of allegiance—wine-soaked pears, honeyed bread, strong coffee—but instead, my stomach churned. Each footstep echoed off the marble railing. I focused on the entrance, anticipating danger.

 

Gio appeared beside me, arms folded. "He's behind schedule."

 

I glanced at the table, set for three: one place empty between me and Lena. "He's not behind schedule. He's in charge."

 

Lena sat clutching her cup, eyes wide. The injury on her temple had crusted over, but I noticed the bruise. "Do you think he'll—" Her voice broke.

 

"Mateo operates on his own timeline," I said quietly. "He'll arrive when he's prepared."

 

A quiet click made us all look up. Mateo appeared in the doorway—dark coat draped over his suit, hands in pockets. His gray hair was damp from the early morning mist. He moved with the same deliberate grace as always. Behind him, Valentina lingered, her expression unreadable.

 

He nodded at me. "Good morning, Ivy."

 

I slid into my seat. "Morning."

 

He sat opposite Lena, ignoring Gio. He simply studied us for a moment. I took a shaky sip of coffee—bitter, but grounding.

 

Valentina cleared her throat. "Your mission to the Rossi archives was fruitful, Lady Rossi. These are the next individuals of interest." She slid two files across the table. One for the Falcone syndicate's vault manager, the other for a contact within the underground black market.

 

Lena tensed. "Are you sure it's secure?" she asked Mateo.

 

He met her gaze briefly—coldness and a hint of something softer flashed beneath the surface. Then he looked away. "Ivy will take care of it."

 

Lena exhaled, a mix of relief and concern. I unfolded my file. "Understood."

 

Valentina nodded. "Breakfast is served. Enjoy."

 

She swept away. Gio glanced at me. "Are you hungry?"

 

I looked down at the pears. "Later."

 

Before I could push back my chair, a piercing scream filled the air. The courtyard bells rang an alarm—three times, urgently. Luca, one of Mateo's guards, rushed through the doorway, blood spattered on his chest armor.

 

"Ambush!" His voice was hoarse. "They attacked the eastern gate. We need assistance!"

 

Mateo was on his feet immediately, forgetting his coat. "Stay here." He hurried past me, directing enforcers rushing toward the gate.

 

I pushed my chair back. "I'm coming."

 

Lena grabbed my arm. "No!"

 

I gently shook her off. "Stay here." I straightened my shoulders. "I'll be back soon."

 

Gio walked alongside me. "Be careful."

 

We ran down stone hallways, torchlight flickering. Metal doors slammed as more guards emerged. Outside, the eastern gate was partially open—iron bars twisted, guards lying in heaps.

 

Blood ran down the side of one guard. He lay gasping, hand pressed to a crimson stain. I knelt beside him. "Hold on. Help is coming." I tore a strip from my shirt and pressed it to his wound.

 

He wheezed. "Serafino… betrayers…" His eyes rolled back.

 

Gio scanned the courtyard. "Too many bodies. There."

 

We saw two figures slipping past the barricades—cloaked, with gleaming blades. The first raised a dagger, quick as lightning, and lunged past Gio toward the wounded guard.

 

I sprinted forward and grabbed the attacker's wrist—too late. The blade nicked my forearm. I cried out, stumbling back. Pain flared through me. Blood appeared on my sleeve.

 

The attacker spun to strike again. I swung my good arm and caught his wrist, twisting hard. His dagger clattered on the stone. He snarled and raised a second blade.

 

Gio tackled him from behind. The cloaked figure fell, struggled, then went still beneath Gio's fist.

 

I pressed my hand to my forearm. My fingers came away slick with blood. My mind raced: I'd been struck. Not deep, but enough. Poison? An assassin would coat a blade.

 

I looked up. Mateo was already there—just a few steps away. He grabbed my arm, examining the cut with pale fingers. "You're bleeding."

 

"I'm fine." I pulled away, but he kept hold.

 

His eyes flicked to my arm. "This wasn't an accident." His voice was rough, quiet.

 

"Someone tried to kill me," I breathed. "They got me."

 

He clenched his jaw. "Get her inside." He pointed at two guards. They closed in around us.

 

I stumbled toward the inner courtyard, Gio supporting me. Lena rushed out to meet me, panic in her eyes. I held up a hand. "I'm okay."

 

Valentina intercepted us at the inner door. She grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. The door slammed shut behind us.

 

Inside the war room—a smaller chamber filled with weapons and medical supplies—Valentina pushed me onto a stone bench. Mateo stood across from me, while Valentina examined my wound for signs of poison.

 

I hissed with each probe. My arm throbbed, and the blood felt hot.

 

Valentina paused. "No contaminant detected so far." She cleaned the cut and wrapped it tightly. "But you'll stay here until we're sure."

 

Mateo stepped forward. "Who?"

 

I wiped sweat and blood off my forehead. "I don't know." My eyes met his, fierce. "They came from the Falcone side. Whoever did this wants the diary."

 

He looked away, jaw tight. "I'll take care of it."

 

I pressed a hand to the table—strength gathering through the pain. "I'm not a liability."

 

He turned back to me, his expression unreadable. "You're… valuable." The single word was heavy. He stepped closer, close enough that I could see the slight tremor in his voice—a rare display of vulnerability. "No one threatens my asset."

 

I blinked. Asset. A pawn and a weapon, bound by blood. My chest ached at the realization.

 

Valentina handed me a water skin. "Drink."

 

I lifted it with my free hand. "Thank you." I forced a smile. "Now I'm proving my value."

 

He offered a curt nod. "Rest. I'll question the survivors."

 

I watched him leave, each step measured. Valentina closed the door. Lena rushed to my side. "Ivy—"

 

I reached out and squeezed her hand. "I'm here." My voice shook. "I'll be fine."

 

Gio leaned against the wall. "We need to find out who sent them before they attack again."

 

I gently touched my wound. The pain was sharpest when I stopped moving. "Then we find out. And we stop them."

 

Lena's eyes trembled. "I'm scared."

 

I wrapped my uninjured arm around her shoulders. "Me too." My voice was soft. "But we have each other."

 

Outside, the sounds of armor and shouting drifted through the walls—a reminder of the war we'd inherited. Inside, I tasted blood and fear, but also something stronger: the pulse of the bond that tied me to Mateo. Hostile, protective, unpredictable.

 

He'd risked his own forces to save me. He might kill to protect me. But in that moment, I realized our fates were intertwined more deeply than any Serafino oath.

 

I pressed a hand to my heart. Poisoned blade, veiled threats—these were the trials that would shape me. And whatever lay ahead, I'd face it on my own terms. For Lena. For myself. And for the man who watched my every move with that intense, frozen stare.

 

I closed my eyes, pain and determination mixing together. Tomorrow, I'd hunt down the truth. And I'd survive. Because I'd already crossed the line—bound by blood, loyalty sworn, and no turning back.

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