Siena — Safehouse, 8:12 AM
"RUN."
One word. One world collapsing.
Kael shot up from his seat the moment the message flashed on his burner phone screen. Ariella was still standing by the desk, fingers trembling as she clutched the USB.
"Ariella. Move. Now!"
His voice was sharp—urgent but not panicked. He rushed to the corner bookshelf, shoved it aside, revealing a hidden panel. Behind it, a narrow passage led to a stone staircase that spiraled down into darkness.
Engines roared outside. Tires screeched to a synchronized stop.
"Go!" Kael barked again.
Ariella hesitated—until a bullet shattered the window. Glass rained down like ice. She ran.
Kael pressed a switch. The bookshelf swung shut just as booted feet stormed the front door. The tunnel swallowed them whole—damp, dark, but safe.
For now.
Rome — DeLuca Secret Operations Room, 8:15 AM
"They've breached the location," the operator reported, fingers flying across the control board.
A giant screen lit up. Infrared footage flickered to life—Kael and Ariella captured near the Siena safehouse. Then, shadows slipping underground.
Salvatore said nothing.
He stood before the screen, half his face bathed in cold light. A cigar rested in his fingers, unlit. But the fire in his eyes had long since ignited.
Kael.
The boy he erased twelve years ago.
"He's alive…" Salvatore muttered—not to anyone in the room, but to the ghost in his mind.
And worse, he wasn't back for revenge.
He was back for her.
His jaw clenched. The cigar snapped slightly under pressure.
Behind him, Giovanni entered, holding a tablet. "Alpha Team's inside the perimeter. But… Kael and Ariella entered the underground tunnel. We lost signal after forty seconds."
"Lost signal?" Salvatore's tone flattened.
"They're using signal scramblers. Old. But effective."
A cold chuckle. Bitter.
"Of course he built an exit plan. That's Kael. The most stubborn dog I ever trained."
He turned and strode to a round table stacked with red-stamped files: Project LUNA. Phase I. Phase II. Photographs of Ariella at age twelve in a white lab room, eyes vacant, knees tucked under her chin.
Salvatore stared.
"I built the perfect world," he whispered. "Three sons, born to inherit. One by one, they walked away."
He reached for a photo of Matteo. In his own handwriting beneath it: Final Executor.
"Now, the only loyal son is betrayed… by his sister. All because of a shadow I should have burned."
He lit his cigar at last.
"Let Alpha finish it," he said, exhaling slow, deliberate smoke. "If they fail…"
He looked up. The room fell silent.
"Matteo will finish it. And if he fails…"
That smile.
"I'll end it myself."
Underground Tunnel, Siena — 8:30 AM
Kael's boots echoed in the stone corridor. Each step deliberate. Each breath tight. A small flashlight carved flickering shapes on the damp walls—ghosts of a past chasing them through the dark.
Ariella trailed behind, gasping for breath, shoes slipping slightly on the wet stone.
"Where are we going?" she asked. "This feels like an escape route."
"It is," Kael replied. "I built it years ago—for this moment."
"This exact moment?"
"When the world tries to erase you… and disappearing is the only way to stay alive."
The air was heavy. Every drip of water from rusted pipes echoed like a countdown.
"Why me?" she muttered. "Out of everyone, why drag me into this?"
Kael stopped.
The tunnel split—one way deeper underground, the other toward a logistics room.
He turned. Only half his face caught the dim light.
"Because to them… you're no one, Ariella."
Her breath caught.
"You're just a daughter in a kingdom of sons. Easy to ignore. Easier to sacrifice."
"Matteo—he's not like that," she whispered.
Kael didn't argue.
"Matteo loves you. But love's never enough in a family like DeLuca."
He stepped closer, light casting shadows across her face.
"But to me… you're the key they all fear."
The key.
Ariella froze.
Not a victim.
Not a helpless heir.
A threat.
Kael saw the shift in her eyes—from confusion, to defiance, to something sharper.
Awakening.
"I don't understand," she said. "But I can't keep running."
Kael smiled slightly.
"We're not running. We're flipping the board."
She looked down the tunnel's dark throat.
"What's at the end?"
"An answer. And maybe… a lock that seals the past."
She nodded.
Last night, she was Ariella DeLuca—princess of privilege.
This morning… she was something else.
Rome — Outside Villa DeLuca, 8:30 AM
The morning mist hung low over Rome.
A black Maserati pulled into the gravel driveway. The engine cut. The door opened.
Matteo DeLuca stepped out—boots sharp against the stones. His coat billowed like a stormfront.
Eyes forward. Mind miles ahead.
Giovanni followed silently, hand near his shoulder holster.
"Where first?" he asked.
"Siena," Matteo replied. Crisp. Cold.
They approached a bulletproof SUV flanked by two tactical units.
"But we're not going there to shoot," Matteo added. "I want to know why Kael took Ariella. What he knows about Project LUNA."
Giovanni nodded, sweeping the perimeter. The northern helipad spun up. Teams awaited orders.
"And if he refuses to talk?"
Matteo smiled. The kind of smile Giovanni feared.
"He'll talk. With words… or with blood."
The SUV doors closed. The convoy rolled out.
Matteo wasn't just a son anymore.
He was the hunter.
Old Tunnel Exit — Edge of Siena, 8:45 AM
Ariella sank to the damp wooden floor, her breaths shallow. Kael stood nearby, guarding the entrance like a shadow welded to the frame.
"If you want to leave me, Kael… now's the perfect time," she muttered, half a challenge, half a surrender.
Kael crouched beside her.
"I left you once—fifteen years ago. I won't do it again."
She turned her head, searching his face for answers.
"Who am I, really? Why does everyone talk about me like I don't belong to myself?"
Kael didn't reply immediately.
Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out an old document, frayed and water-stained.
Phase II: Subject – A.D.
He handed it to her.
"You are the core of Project LUNA. Not just a target. You were the experiment."
Ariella's eyes widened. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
"Salvatore and his people… they weren't trying to clone. Not in the way you'd think. They wanted to forge leaders—mentally. They studied obedience, trauma response, social conditioning. They picked one child from each DeLuca generation. This time… it was you."
She shook her head.
"No. That's insane."
Kael took her hand, firm but not forceful.
"They picked you because you were the girl. The weakest link. The invisible heir."
He paused.
"But you're not weak. That's what scares them."
Rome — DeLuca Archive Basement, 9:00 AM
Dust danced in the air like faded ghosts.
Matteo sat in silence, old files open before him. His fingers traced the edges of yellowed pages—photos of medical procedures, documents marked classified, all signed by Salvatore DeLuca.
His father.
One photo slipped loose.
Kael—strapped to a steel chair, a black serum injected into his neck. Eyes wide but unbroken.
Behind the one-way glass?
A little girl.
Ariella.
Tears streamed down her face, but she said nothing. She just watched.
Matteo's hands trembled as he picked up the photo.
His throat closed.
He closed the file gently.
For the first time in years, he spoke aloud—not to Giovanni, not to any staff, but to the man whose shadow built their legacy.
"Father… what did you do to us?"
Silence answered.
And the clock kept ticking.
Siena — Abandoned Farmhouse, 9:25 AM
The old door slammed shut as Kael and Ariella stumbled in from the tunnel.
Dust rose. Sunlight pierced through cracks. The walls groaned with every gust of wind. Cobwebs hung like ancient curtains, untouched by time.
Kael locked the back door. His body stayed rigid, eyes scanning.
"We've got hours. At most," he muttered.
Ariella didn't move. In her hand—the USB. So small. Yet it felt like it weighed the world.
She sat on a cracked wooden chair. Her voice trembled.
"If I open this… my whole life will change."
Kael turned, meeting her gaze.
"It already has."
Her grip on the USB tightened.
Last night, she was still Ariella DeLuca—the girl in crystal dresses and perfect headlines.
This morning, she was someone hunted.
She didn't flinch now.
"If I'm going to destroy everything they built… I have to start here."
Kael nodded. "We open it together."
They stared at each other.
Two orphans of truth. Both haunted by the same name.
Rome — Villa DeLuca Lab Room, 9:30 AM
The room was too white. Sterile. Unforgiving.
Salvatore sat alone. One chair. One monitor.
On the table—a single vial.
DNA Sample: Ariella DeLuca.
He pressed a button.
The screen lit up, slowly revealing in red digital text:
SUBJECT A.D. — STATUS: VIABLEACTIVATION WINDOW: 72 HOURS REMAINING
Salvatore leaned back, lips curling into something between a smirk and a grimace.
"You're not lost, Ariella," he whispered. "You're a design that forgot its blueprint."
He didn't blink.
This wasn't science.
It was prophecy.
Siena — Same Farmhouse, 10:15 AM
Ariella knelt on the creaking floor, plugging the USB into Kael's old laptop.
The screen flickered. An old hard disk spun to life.
A folder appeared.
PHASE II — ARIELLA DeLUCA
She opened it.
First file: an audio recording.
Salvatore's voice.
"If you're hearing this… the time has come. You weren't born for this world, Ariella. You were built to change it."
Ariella froze.
That voice—it wasn't her father's. It was a god speaking to its creation.
She slammed the laptop shut.
"Kael… I don't know who I am anymore."
Kael knelt beside her.
"I do. You're not a creation. You're a choice. They built you to rule—but you can choose to burn their throne."
She looked into his eyes—really looked.
For the first time, she didn't see her rescuer.
She saw her ally.
BOOM!
The house shook.
A violent blast rattled the windows. Dust rained from the ceiling. Tires screeched. Boots crunched gravel outside.
Kael sprang up, gun in hand.
"He's here."
Ariella's heart stopped.
Matteo.