The morning after the destruction in the dining room felt different. The air was charged with a heavy, post-coital silence that wasn't quite peace, but rather a temporary ceasefire. Dante was at the window, staring out at the mist clinging to the pines. He was shirtless, the sprawling tattoos on his back a mix of religious iconography and Moretti crests marking him as a man built for violence.
Sienna sat wrapped in a thick wool blanket by the hearth, watching him. The heavy gold ring on her finger caught the light of the dying embers.
"My father didn't just kill your brother for a message," she said suddenly, her voice cracking the silence.
Dante turned, his dark eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"
"The Adriatic ports," she continued, pulling the blanket tighter. "You think it's about territory. It's not. It's about what he's hiding under them. My mother... she found out. She found out he was using the foundations of the new docks to move things the Commission doesn't approve of. Human trafficking, Dante. Not just drugs or guns. People."
Dante froze. Even in the underworld, there were lines. The Morettis dealt in many sins, but they prided themselves on a certain code.
"My mother was going to the police," Sienna whispered, her gaze fixed on the fire. "That's why she died. Not a car accident. He had her silenced. And your brother... Enzo was an artist, yes, but he was also curious. He spent a lot of time near those docks sketching. He saw something he wasn't supposed to see. My father didn't kill him to hurt your family. He killed him to protect his secret."
Dante walked across the room, his footsteps heavy. He knelt in front of her, his hands gripping the arms of her chair. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because," she looked at him, her eyes brimming with a cold, sharp clarity. "As long as he's alive, neither of us is safe. He'll kill me for being with you, and he'll kill you to keep his secret buried. We aren't just rivals, Dante. We're both his victims."
Dante's jaw tightened so hard a muscle pulsed in his cheek. The revenge he had been planning felt small compared to the rage currently boiling in his chest. "If this is true... if he killed Enzo for that..."
"It is true," she hissed. "Search the ledger in his private study. The red one with the gold clasp. It's all there. Every shipment, every payoff."
Dante stood up, his hand reaching out to cup her face. His thumb brushed over her cheekbone with a tenderness that felt alien in his rough hands. "You're giving him to me. You realize that, don't you? If I go after him for this, there's no coming back. I'll have to wipe his entire line out."
"Do it," Sienna said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Wipe it all out. Just leave me enough of him to watch the light go out of his eyes."
Dante let out a low, dark chuckle. "God, you're a Moretti through and through. You've got more ice in your veins than I do."
He pulled her up from the chair, the blanket falling to the floor. He stepped into her, his body a solid wall of heat. "If we do this, we do it together. I have to get into the city. I have to breach the Cavallo estate during the Anniversary Gala. It's the only time the security is spread thin enough."
"I'm going with you," Sienna said firmly.
"No. It's a fucking suicide mission, Sienna."
"I'm the only one who can get you past the biometric scanners in the private wing," she countered, her hands grabbing the front of his trousers, pulling him closer. "Don't try to protect me now, Dante. You've already ruined me. Let me help you finish him."
Dante growled, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. "You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?"
"Maybe," she whispered, her lips ghosting over his. "But what a way to go."
Dante's grip on her waist became bruising, his possessiveness flaring. "If a single bullet grazes you, I'll burn Milan to the ground. You stay behind me. You don't move unless I say. You belong to me, and I don't lose what's mine."
"Is that a promise, Moretti?"
"It's a fucking vow," he muttered, before lifting her up and carrying her back toward the bed. "Now, stay quiet. I need to remind you one more time whose side you're on."
"I think I already know," she gasped as he lowered her down, the war between their families finally merging into a single, blood-soaked mission.
The plan was set. They were no longer captor and prisoner. They were a pair of wolves, and they were finally turning their teeth toward the man who had created them both.