Ten months ago.
The Moretti estate was quieter in winter.
Matteo liked it that way. The garden was bare, the marble fountains frozen over, and the olive trees stood stripped of leaves - naked truths, the way he preferred them.
He sat alone near the terrace, nursing a cup of bitter espresso as frost curled along the stone railing. In the distance, he could see his sister's bedroom light flicker on.
Isabella.
He wished he could tell her everything.
The truth weighed heavy in his jacket pocket-USB drives, coded letters, and names that would unravel empires. D'Angelo. Ricci. Ivanov. And worst of all-
Vittorio Moretti. Their father.
"I thought blood was thicker than ambition," he muttered aloud.
But ambition was corrosive. And in the end, it had eaten their father from the inside out.
The footsteps behind him were soft. Trained.
"You're early,' Matteo said without turning.
A voice replied, low and sharp: "You're late".
Matteo looked up at Nico DeLuca, who stood under the archway like a warning carved in flesh.
"I need you to deliver this, " Matteo said, sliding the encrypted flash drive across the stone ledge. "If anything happens to me-Isabella gets it."
Nico hesitated. "She's not ready."
"She will be".
He stood, facing the man who'd once served the Riccis and now served him.
"I know my father's planning something. I just don't know when".
"You think he'll have you killed?" Nico asked.
Matteo gave a humorless smile. "I think he already has".
There was silence between them. The kind only shared by men standing near the edge of something irreversible.
"I'm trusting you, DeLuca, Matteo said. Not because i have no choice- but because she needs someone after i'm gone."
Matteo nodded. "Then end him".
PRESENT DAY
Isabella sat in the same frozen garden, Matteo's flash drive clutched in her hand, tears drying on her cheeks. Nico stood behind her, silent as always.
"I didn't know he met you," she said.
"He didn't want you to".
She looked at the garden, where frost kissed the rose branches. "He was trying to protect me. And i hated him for keeping secrets."
Nico stepped closer. "You still can."
She looked back. "Hate him?
"Love him"
It was the gentlest thing he'd ever said.
But she wasn't gentle anymore.
"I'm done grieving, she said, standing. "Vittorio sits on a throne of corpses and money. And I want to tear it all down."
Nico's jaw flexed. "You'll need allies."
"I want loyal ones. No more snakes."
He nodded. "I'll call my own."
"From before. Some owe me. Some fear me. But they all hate Ricci and D'Angelo."
She smirked faintly. "Sounds like my kind of crew."
As they walked back towards the house, Isabella whispered:
"For the record... if you hadn't protected Matteo last secret, I would've killed you."
Nico shrugged. "I know."
"And i would've regretted it," she added.
He paused. Looked at her.
"So would I".