POV: Matteo DeLuca Location: LUNA Operations Center, Milan – 8:02 a.m.
Cigarette smoke filled the reinforced glass room. Around them, large screens displayed the faces of wanted individuals, including Ariella. The clicking of Matteo's leather shoes echoed, his steps slow but heavy with tension.
Salvatore DeLuca sat calmly on the black leather chair at the center of the room, like a king upon his dark throne. In front of him, a man in a suit—a traitor from one of their family branches—knelt, hands tied behind his back.
"Tell me again," Salvatore's voice was low, almost a whisper. "Who did you leak the safehouse location to?"
The man trembled, sweating profusely. "I... I only followed orders... I didn't know it was a trap..."
Bang! Matteo fired a shot straight into the man's knee without flinching.
The man screamed in agony, collapsing to the floor.
"Loyalty in this family is not a choice," Salvatore spoke, still calm. "It is a duty. And betrayal is repaid with blood."
Matteo respectfully handed the pistol to Salvatore.
Salvatore took the weapon slowly, then placed it on the glass table.
"We have a bigger problem," Matteo said, hiding a sinister smirk. "Kael is still alive. He's not just a shadow from the past. He is the key. And Giuliano... there's a crack in his programming."
Salvatore exhaled slowly, as calm as ever. "I know Kael was deeply involved in this project from the beginning. He was one of the original architects of Project LUNA. He escaped before the program reached completion, but unfortunately... he took half of our secrets with him."
Matteo frowned. "Why didn't you finish him back then?"
"Because he was too valuable," Salvatore replied. "And now... he will be the final bait."
The atmosphere grew colder.
Salvatore turned toward one of the screens—the one displaying Ariella's face.
"Matteo, we proceed with the operation. But this time, don't rely solely on Giuliano. Deploy all active units."
Matteo nodded slowly. "Orders received. But if Giuliano fails..."
Salvatore gave a faint smile, one devoid of any warmth.
"If he fails, I will personally step in."
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping the table slowly.
"And if necessary," he continued, his voice enough to send chills down anyone's spine, "even my own blood... I won't hesitate to wipe it clean."
Salvatore then turned to Matteo, his gaze hinting at something deeper.
"There is another person you need to contact," Salvatore continued, his voice flat but sharp.
Matteo frowned. "Who?"
"Enzo."
The name made Matteo flinch slightly.
"He hasn't been involved in our affairs for a long time," Matteo replied quietly, though clear hesitation lingered in his tone.
"No one truly leaves this family," Salvatore replied. "Enzo still owes me an old promise. And he knows, if I call... he cannot refuse."
Matteo paused for a moment, then nodded. "I will handle it."
Salvatore smirked slightly, his gaze returning to the screen displaying Kael and Ariella.
"The game has only just begun," he said, as if speaking to the shadows themselves.
Salvatore then stood slowly, his upright figure casting a dark shadow that seemed to engulf the entire room.
"Matteo, do you know why I've outlived all our enemies?" His voice was soft, almost like a deathly whisper.
Matteo looked up, waiting for the answer.
"Because I never give second chances," Salvatore added, his eyes burning.
He walked toward the back wall of the room, where an old family portrait hung—a painting of a young Salvatore with his three sons, including Giuliano.
"This family was built on blood. And blood is a debt that must be paid," Salvatore whispered.
Suddenly, he touched the portrait's frame, revealing a hidden panel. Inside, an antique telephone sat, reserved for the most sensitive matters.
He dialed a number, his voice cold.
"Enzo, the time has come."
No other words were exchanged. He hung up the phone, his gaze sharp.
"Matteo, ensure all units are ready. I want this operation clean, leaving no traces. And if Kael or Ariella tries to run again..."
Matteo nodded, fully understanding the gravity behind those words.
Salvatore gave a small, cold smile and leaned back in his chair.
"Let the world know... DeLuca blood is not to be challenged."
The scene closed, leaving an aura of death lingering in the air, as if Milan itself was watching the DeLuca family's moves. Outside that glass room, the city of Milan slowly stirred, yet every narrow alley and cobblestone street held whispered secrets. In the distance, an old church bell tolled softly, as if echoing the weight of the decision just made.
Matteo glanced sideways at the large window overlooking the cityscape. In his heart, he realized that every order Salvatore had given today would set off a domino effect that could not be stopped. And the name Enzo—long buried in the dark history of the DeLuca family—had now resurfaced.
Matteo took a deep breath, aware that this game had reached a point of no return. He knew the upcoming clash would not just be a struggle for power, but also a battle for the family's pride, which had always been built upon blood and shadows.
And deep within the darkest corner of his heart, Matteo silently asked himself—was he ready to become his father's final pawn, or would he eventually become the next sacrifice in the DeLuca legacy?