The city was quiet. Too quiet.
Inside the safe house, Luca DeRossi paced like a storm contained within four walls. Blood, smoke, and betrayal still lingered in his senses.
Amara Volkov watched him quietly, leaning against the leather seat of the black SUV. Her wound had been patched, but her expression was unreadable. Calm. Calculating.
Matteo entered, nervous. "Boss… the initial sweep found something."
Luca didn't turn. "Speak."
"They weren't just attacking from outside. Someone inside… gave them access to security codes and floor plans. Someone we trusted."
Luca stopped pacing. Slowly, he turned. His dark eyes fixed on Viktor's empty seat in the safe house.
"She didn't do it," Amara said softly.
"I know." His voice was flat. "But someone did."
Another of Luca's captains stepped forward—Carlo. He'd been loyal for over a decade. "Boss, we've checked the men. No sign of compromise. But… the inner locks—east wing, service tunnels—were accessed remotely."
Luca's jaw tightened. "And the signal originated from inside the mansion."
Silence.
Then, Matteo swallowed and whispered, "Boss… it was me."
Time seemed to freeze.
Luca's gaze snapped to Matteo. "Say that again?"
"I… I opened the east gate," Matteo admitted, voice shaking. "I thought… I thought I could control it. I didn't know how many there'd be. I… I—"
"You betrayed me," Luca said slowly, like a blade being drawn.
"I—I was going to fix it!" Matteo stammered.
Luca stepped forward. His presence alone pressed Matteo against the wall. "Fix it?" His voice was a growl. "You killed men. You almost got my guest—my target—killed. You think this is something you can 'fix'?"
Amara's eyes flicked to Luca. She said nothing. Let him do this his way.
Luca's hand moved to Matteo's chest, pushing him back. "You had loyalty. You had trust. You had my confidence. And you threw it away for… what?"
Matteo's knees buckled. "Money… power… I thought… I could—"
Luca's gun was out before Matteo could finish. One shot. Clean. Precise. Matteo fell without a sound.
Amara didn't flinch. She merely watched, noting every detail, every movement, every silent calculation Luca made.
"Now you know," Luca said, voice low, almost conversational, "what happens to snakes inside the house."
She tilted her head. "Efficient."
Luca's gaze shifted to her. "Don't mistake efficiency for mercy. I don't forgive. I don't forget. Not even you."
"Not me?" she asked softly.
He took a step closer. "You may be dangerous… but you're alive. For now."
Amara smiled faintly. "I'll remember that."
A faint hum from her bracelet alerted her. She pressed it discreetly. "Phase three," she murmured.
Luca's eyes narrowed. "Phase three?"
"Let's just say," she said, voice soft, "this war is far from over."
He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Because now, with the snake in his ranks dead, one fact remained clear:
The next move would come from someone even closer.
And Luca DeRossi would find them.
No mercy.
No hesitation.