The cold light of morning cast long shadows over the De Luca estate. Juliet stood on the edge of the balcony, arms folded across her chest, her eyes fixed on the skyline of Milan. The city buzzed beneath her, unaware of the chaos she now carried in her chest. Everything had changed since the warehouse. Since Adonis had nearly bled out beside her. Since Antonio's betrayal became undeniable.
Adonis had survived the night, but barely. His blood still stained her coat. That image haunted her—his limp body in her arms, the fire in his eyes fading just enough to terrify her. He wasn't invincible. And that made her vulnerable in a way she didn't want to admit.
Inside, the room smelled faintly of antiseptic and blood. Matteo had patched Adonis up after Juliet drove them like a madwoman through back alleys, avoiding the police scanners. He hadn't regained full consciousness yet, but he murmured in restless sleep, words that didn't make sense.
She turned when she heard movement behind her. Matteo stepped out, dark circles etched under his eyes. His shirt was stained, his voice low.
"He's stable. For now."
Juliet nodded, though her stomach twisted. "What about Antonio?"
Matteo's jaw clenched. "Gone. Off the grid. He knows we know."
The air thickened. Juliet had worked side-by-side with Antonio for years, trusted him in gunfights and interrogations. The thought that he'd been feeding Giorgio information all along made her skin crawl.
But worse than the betrayal was the way it all tied back—to Adonis.
Juliet moved back into the room. Adonis lay there, shirtless, the bruises on his ribs already darkening, his chest rising in shallow, even breaths. The tattoo on his arm—the De Luca crest—seemed to glint in the morning light. She reached out to brush his hair from his forehead.
His eyes snapped open.
For a moment, they were clouded. Confused.
Then—recognition.
"Juliet..." His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper. "Is it morning?"
She gave a soft nod. "Barely. You were out cold. Don't move too much. Matteo stitched you up."
His hand moved to his side and he winced. "Damn... did we get out?"
"Barely," she said. "You almost didn't make it. If I'd been a second later—"
"But you weren't." His eyes locked with hers. "You never are."
Their gaze held. Juliet wanted to look away, wanted to guard herself. But something in his eyes... there was vulnerability there. Real. And real scared her.
"We need to talk," she said finally.
"About Antonio," Adonis guessed, exhaling sharply. "I heard enough before I passed out."
Juliet sat down on the edge of the bed. "There's more. Matteo and I found an encrypted phone in Antonio's locker. Messages to someone under the alias Il Falco. We traced them back to Giovanni's operations."
Adonis's expression darkened. "So Antonio's been the mole this entire time."
Juliet nodded. "But that's not all. Some of the messages reference you. Specifically… what really happened ten years ago."
Adonis looked away.
Juliet leaned forward. "You told me you were framed."
"I was," he said quickly.
She raised a brow. "Completely?"
Silence.
Adonis closed his eyes. The shadows of the past began to creep in.
Flashback — Ten Years Ago
Nineteen-year-old Adonis paced the marble floors of the De Luca auction house. It was midnight. The halls were dark, silent. Everyone had left, except him—and the voice that echoed from his father's office.
Giorgio Giovanni.
He stood outside the thick oak door, listening.
"You owe us, Don. That boy of yours is reckless. Loud. He stirs trouble in the streets."
"He's young," his father replied. "He'll settle."
"He's a liability," Giorgio hissed. "Either you control him—or we do."
Adonis had frozen in place, blood thudding in his ears.
Later that night, he'd broken into his father's private vault. Not to steal. To find proof of their dealings. Documents, ledgers—anything to expose the mafia's ties to the De Luca fortune.
But someone had been watching. Waiting.
The alarm had been triggered. Police were tipped off. And Adonis had been caught red-handed with a priceless heirloom in his hands—one he hadn't even meant to take.
He remembered the cold cuffs. The headlines the next day. The look in his mother's eyes. And the silence of his father.
He had never spoken of that night. Not even to Matteo.
End Flashback
Adonis opened his eyes. Juliet was still there. Waiting.
"No," he said quietly. "I wasn't framed completely. I broke in. But I wasn't stealing. I was searching for the truth."
Juliet studied him. The shame in his voice. The weight of the past behind his eyes.
"Antonio must've known," he added. "Which means Giorgio's known this whole time. About what I did. About why."
Juliet stood slowly. "We'll deal with Antonio. But first, we need to get ahead of Giorgio. He's planning something—we don't know what yet, but he's moving pieces fast."
Adonis sat up slightly, gritting through the pain. "Then we move faster."
Juliet hesitated. "There's one more thing. The encrypted phone—it had an image. An old photo. You, your father... and Giorgio. Together."
Adonis froze.
Juliet stepped closer. "Tell me the truth. All of it. Before this war burns down everything."
Adonis's expression was unreadable, but the war in his eyes raged louder than ever.
And Juliet knew: the storm was just beginning.