The air inside the lavish club was heavy with smoke and the scent of expensive liquor. Hidden behind velvet curtains in a private VIP lounge, a group of men sat in cold silence. At the center of the room, lounging in a leather chair like a king on his throne, was Salvatore De Luca — the ruthless head of the De Luca family.
The De Lucas were notorious — a family feared just as much for their unpredictability as for their cruelty. Unlike the Morettis, who operated with structure, or the Russos, who valued loyalty above all, the De Lucas thrived on chaos. Bloodshed was their language, and destruction was their trademark.
Salvatore's dark eyes burned with cold amusement as one of his men stepped forward.
"The Moretti estate was hit last night," the man reported, his voice low. "And... Your brother was found dead by the police."
Salvatore De Luca leaned back in his leather chair, a lazy grin curling on his lips.
"My brother?" he drawled, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "The fool got himself killed — not my problem."
With a dismissive chuckle, he downed his drink and reached for the bottle, completely unfazed.
Salvatore leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "And who did it?"
"Vesper."
At the name, a dark grin tugged at Salvatore's lips. "He's finally making a move… interesting."
The De Luca family had long been circling both the Morettis and the Russos, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Vesper's recent kills — especially targeting Moretti's hacker — had created a vulnerability. Salvatore intended to exploit it.
"If Vesper keeps stirring the waters, the Morettis won't be the only ones drowning," Salvatore muttered darkly.
One of his lieutenants shifted uneasily. "If Vesper's working alone, shouldn't we just—"
Salvatore's sharp gaze cut him off. "Vesper isn't the threat. The Morettis and Russos are. And I want them crushed — piece by piece."
His fingers drummed rhythmically on the table. "We'll start with their weakest link…" His grin widened. "…the girl."
The lieutenant's brow furrowed. "Which girl?"
"The one Moretti's so desperate to protect — Leona."
The room seemed to darken with his words. Salvatore knew exactly what he was doing. Strike at the heart — the emotional anchor — and the rest would fall.
"Send a message," Salvatore ordered coldly. "I want her terrified before I touch her. When Moretti and Russo realize they can't protect what matters most, they'll break."
His grin returned — sharp, predatory.
"And when they do, we'll burn their families to the ground."
Back at the Moretti estate
The air inside the Moretti estate was unusually tense. The morning's silence felt stretched, fragile, as though one wrong move could shatter it like glass. Leona sat quietly at the dining table, fingers curled around her coffee mug. Alessia had insisted she stay after the previous night's chaos, and for once, Leona didn't argue. The weight of recent events — the attack, the panic, the bodies — still clung to her like a second skin.
But Valerio's silence worried her the most.
He sat across the room, his face colder than usual, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. His hacker's death had left a crack in his usually unshakable composure — one that Leona knew he was fighting hard to conceal. Dante tried to joke, tried to ease the tension, but Valerio barely reacted.
"What's going on?" Leona finally asked.
Valerio's gaze flicked to her. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, one of his men stormed in.
"Sir, you need to see this."
In Valerio's study, the TV screen flickered to life. News anchors spoke in rushed, worried tones. The screen displayed an emblem — a coiled serpent, fangs bared.
"The Serpents — a mafia family long believed to have gone underground — have resurfaced in the heart of the city. Sources confirm that their leader, Emilio Salvatore, has declared war on both the Morettis and Russos, stating that the recent chain of Vesper-related deaths ties back to their families…"
Leona's heart skipped a beat.
"The Serpents claim their men have been targeted unfairly, and Salvatore has promised to retaliate with violence. With both mafia families weakened, experts warn that this could spark a city-wide war."
The screen cut to footage of the latest victim — Valerio's hacker — sprawled on the cold ground. Blood pooled around his chest, and the unmistakable 'V'-engraved blade was still lodged in his heart.
Leona felt bile rise in her throat.
The name Salvatore stirred something inside her — a memory buried too deep to grasp. She knew she wasn't connected to the Serpents… but something else gnawed at her.
Why did the name feel familiar?
Her mind drifted back to her childhood — a blurry image of an older man, always standing in the shadows whenever her foster parents were mentioned. She couldn't remember his face, only a whisper of a voice:
"You're better off forgotten…"
Leona shook the thought away.
"We need to be careful," Valerio muttered. "If Salvatore thinks this is on us, he won't hesitate."
"And what about Vesper?" Dante asked from the corner, voice tight.
Leona swallowed hard. The weight of her secret made her stomach twist.
"I'll handle Vesper," Valerio said darkly.
Leona's fingers trembled against her mug. His tone wasn't just determined — it was personal. Valerio wasn't just chasing a killer. He wanted vengeance.
Later in the evening
Elsewhere, Vesper stood alone in the shadows of an abandoned building. His gloved fingers twirled a knife — the same one that had taken the hacker's life.
His mind drifted back to that night — to the faint glint of Alessia's face through the window.
Did she see me?
If she had… he knew what had to be done.
But as Vesper's fingers clenched the blade, something unfamiliar gnawed at him — hesitation.
She's innocent… She's got nothing to do with this world.
Yet the rules of the underground were brutal — no loose ends. If he let her live, it could unravel everything.
For the first time in years, Vesper questioned himself.
Later that evening, while Leona stood near the balcony of the Moretti estate, a shadow moved in the distance. She barely noticed it, brushing the feeling aside as paranoia.
But down in the streets, a figure stood watching the estate — Emilio Salvatore himself.
"Time to break the peace," he muttered darkly before turning away.
The Serpents weren't here just to retaliate. They were here to destroy.
The tension in the room was suffocating. The air seemed to vibrate with restrained violence as Salvatore De Luca — the head of the notorious De Luca Mafia — strolled into the Moretti estate like he owned the place.
Valerio stood at the far end of the room, his sharp gaze locked on the intruder. His men, each armed and trained to kill, stood like statues — yet none dared to make a move. Not because they lacked loyalty, but because Valerio had let Salvatore inside without protest.
Salvatore's grin widened as he scanned the room, his arrogance filling every corner. Dressed in a sleek black suit, his fingers adorned with silver rings, he moved with the confidence of a man who knew his presence demanded attention. Without waiting for an invitation, he sank into one of the plush leather chairs, crossing one leg over the other.
"Relax," Salvatore drawled, flashing a smile that held no warmth. "I'm not here for trouble." His gaze flicked toward Valerio's father, Valentino Moretti, and then to Alessandro Russo, both of whom remained tense but silent. Even they knew that a direct confrontation with Salvatore would be disastrous — not now, not here.
Then, as if the room hadn't grown cold enough, Salvatore's eyes settled on Valerio. "I'll keep this simple," he said. "I want two things — Leona and Alessia."
A chilling silence followed. The room seemed to darken, shadows stretching as if they fed off the growing hostility.
"Excuse me?" Valerio's voice was low, quiet — far more dangerous than if he had shouted.
"You heard me." Salvatore's grin returned, a glint of sadistic pleasure in his eyes. "Alessia, because we have unfinished business. And Leona… well," his grin widened, "let's just say I've taken an interest in her."
The muscles in Valerio's jaw twitched. His fingers curled tightly against his palm.
"You seem to forget," Valentino cut in, his voice sharp, "this isn't your playground. Walking in here like this doesn't mean you get to take what you want."
Salvatore chuckled darkly. "I walked in here because I can." His gaze shifted back to Valerio. "And I'm not leaving without an answer."
"You won't get one," Valerio shot back.
"Oh, I will." Salvatore's smile vanished. "I always get what I want."
The air grew even heavier. Every man in the room knew what this was — a warning. Salvatore De Luca wasn't asking; he was demanding. The fact that he walked in alone, without his men, made it clear how little he feared the power the Morettis or Russos held.
"I suggest you walk out now," Valerio said, voice dangerously calm. "Before I decide your arrogance isn't worth the trouble."
For a moment, Salvatore stared at him, cold and calculating. Then, just as suddenly as he arrived, he stood and straightened his suit jacket.
"We'll see," Salvatore said, turning to leave. "But don't take too long… patience isn't one of my strengths."
The room hadn't yet recovered from Salvatore's unsettling presence when his parting words stopped everyone cold.
"Oh," he paused in the doorway, turning slightly with a twisted grin. "One more thing — that child Alessia's carrying?" His eyes narrowed, locking directly onto Valentino Moretti. "That's a De Luca. My dead brother's child."
The silence that followed was deafening. Alessia, who has been listening the whole interaction, felt the world tilt beneath her feet.
"What?" Valentino's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"You heard me," Salvatore said with a smug smile. "My brother's blood runs in her veins… and in that child. And I want what belongs to my family."
"You're insane," Dante growled, stepping forward. "Your brother's dead?"
"I know," Salvatore shot back, voice sharper now.
His eyes flicked dangerously to Valerio before continuing. "But my brother left something behind — that child. I don't care what it takes… I'm claiming what's mine."
"You think you can just take Alessia's child?" Valerio's voice was cold steel. "Over my dead body."
"That can be arranged," Salvatore sneered.
Before anyone could move, Alessia's voice trembled from behind them. "I… I won't let you near my baby." Her tone was shaky but firm.
Salvatore's gaze softened — or at least he tried to make it seem so. "I don't want to hurt you, bella," he said with mock sincerity. "But that child is De Luca blood. I'll do whatever it takes to protect my family."
"Funny," Valerio said darkly. "Because if you come near her again, I'll do whatever it takes to protect mine."
Salvatore chuckled lowly, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. "Then I guess we'll see who strikes first."
With that, he turned and walked out, leaving behind a silence that felt suffocating.
Alessia sank into a chair, her hands shaking violently. "He's not taking my baby," she whispered, her voice cracking.
"He won't," Valerio said, his hand settling firmly on her shoulder. "I swear on my life — he won't."