POV: Ariella DeLuca, Tuscany — La Fattoria di Campiano, 2:17 A.M.
The night in Tuscany was too quiet. In the distance, the faint lights from the small town of San Gimignano flickered softly, like silent witnesses to two fugitives hiding in an old farmhouse, La Fattoria di Campiano—a place once filled with laughter, now left in stillness.
Ariella stood on the creaking wooden veranda, leaning against a weathered pillar, staring blankly at the vast olive grove. The autumn wind brushed her pale face, but she didn't move.
The thin linen dress she wore dragged softly in the breeze. Her long, wavy hair was left loose—disheveled, but beautiful in its wildness. Under the pale moonlight, Ariella looked like the shadow of a woman no longer just a girl—she was a woman full of scars and vengeance.
Footsteps approached slowly from behind. Kael.
He looked different from before—his dark hair now longer, reaching his nape, slightly messy. His face appeared sharper, a faint stubble lining his defined jaw. The wound on his temple had not fully healed, yet he stood firm—like a lion returning from battle.
Without a word, Kael stood beside Ariella.
"I thought you were asleep," Kael's voice was hoarse, but calm.
Ariella gave a faint smile, not turning around.
"It's too quiet here for me to sleep," she replied softly, her eyes still locked on the darkness ahead.
They stood side by side, two souls trapped between vengeance and fate.
Kael gazed at Ariella deeply, his eyes full of unspoken emotion. In her face, he no longer saw the girl who once trembled under Salvatore's shadow. Now, he saw a woman alluring in her dangerous strength—sharp eyes, hardened lips, and a face hiding countless secrets.
"You know, Ella…" Kael's voice lowered, almost a whisper, "every night I wonder… you're starting to resemble him."
Ariella finally turned, raising her brow. "Him?"
Kael gave a faint, bitter smile, his eyes dim. "Salvatore."
Ariella let out a dry, bitter chuckle. "That's the last thing I want to hear."
Kael took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly. "But I know… you're not entirely lost yet."
Ariella stared back at him for a long moment before finally whispering, "There's only one thing I fear, Kael…"
"What is it?"
"I'm afraid… when all this ends, I won't recognize myself anymore."
Kael fell silent.
He studied Ariella's face—still fierce on the outside, yet with traces of unease she couldn't hide. The night air touched their skin, but the true chill was the fear Ariella kept buried inside.
Kael's voice dropped, rough and deep.
"You know, Ella… sometimes… not knowing yourself isn't the scariest thing."
Ariella lifted her brow slightly, staring straight into Kael's dim but piercing eyes.
"It's not?" Ariella asked, half-sarcastic, half-curious.
Kael gave a faint smile—the smile of a man who had long stopped hoping for the world.
"The scariest thing…" Kael paused, his voice lowering even more, "…is when you finally know who you are—and realize you enjoy the darkness inside you."
Ariella froze, her chest tightening.
She couldn't deny those words struck something deep within—the part she tried so hard to suppress.
"I don't want to enjoy that side, Kael," Ariella said quietly, her tone edged with frustration. "I'm not Salvatore."
Kael let out a low chuckle, though his eyes remained sharp.
"You're not Salvatore. But don't lie to yourself, Ella," he leaned against the pillar, his body solid, gaze unwavering. "The same blood runs in your veins. And we both know… sometimes, that taste is addictive."
Ariella stared at Kael for a long moment—anger, fear, and a silent confession all swirling in her gaze.
"If you think I'll fall into the same pit as him, you're wrong," Ariella whispered, her tone low but firm, as if threatening herself more than him.
Kael simply smirked, as if he'd long known her answer.
"I never said you'd fall, Ella," he whispered back, his eyes deepening. "I'm just saying… sometimes, we're the ones who dig the pit ourselves."
The tension thickened, the silence tightening its grip.
But in that silence, something else stirred.
Not fear.
Not hatred.
But something far more dangerous—fascination.
Neither of them looked away, their hearts pounding harder with every breath.
And that night in Tuscany became the silent witness to two broken souls realizing… they might be more alike than they ever dared admit.
POV: Rafael DeLuca
Milan — Rafael's Private Residence, 3:12 A.M.
Inside a luxurious apartment in the heart of Milan, Rafael sat in front of a large screen, watching every detail displayed—LUNA's locations, Salvatore's movements, and hidden transactions invisible to the outside world.
In his hand, an unlit Havana cigar. On the table, a full glass of Negroni Sbagliato, untouched.
The burner phone on his desk vibrated.
[Raven]: The bait is set. Are you sure you want to proceed?
Rafael smirked, full of hidden intent.
[Rafael]: Yes. Let him think he's winning. I want him to fall on his own later.
He deleted the message, then stood, gazing out the window.
Outside, the city of Milan continued breathing as usual—drunks stumbling out of bars on Via Monte Napoleone, luxury cars weaving through narrow streets.
But Rafael knew… it wouldn't stay calm for long.
POV: Matteo DeLuca
Rome — LUNA Headquarters, Secret Control Room, 4:07 A.M.
Matteo stormed toward the massive screen, his eyes bloodshot from suppressed rage.
"Who leaked the Beta Black location?!" His voice roared through the room.
His subordinates cowered, none daring to lift their heads.
Matteo exhaled harshly, clenching his fists.
On the screen, Rafael's name appeared alongside a list of encrypted communications.
Matteo sneered. "You think I don't know your little games, Rafael?"
He slammed a button.
"Open all of Rafael's comms. I want to see who's bold enough to sell out our family."
But deep down, Matteo felt something he had never truly felt before.
Fear.
POV: Salvatore DeLuca
Unknown Location — A Glass Chamber Overlooking Amalfi, 5:33 A.M.
Inside a hidden villa on the Amalfi Coast, Salvatore sat alone in a glass room overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The outside world looked peaceful, as if it had never known sin.
In his hand, an old satellite phone rang.
He answered, the voice on the other end calm and steady.
"Dominic Sanzari."
Salvatore gave a faint smile, his expression as cold as ever.
"How much longer are you going to toy with me, Dominic?"
On the other end, Dominic chuckled softly.
"As long as men like you still think they're kings."
Salvatore chuckled back, a dark sound. "Whose side are you choosing this time?"
Silence.
Then Dominic's voice returned, quiet but sharp.
"I don't choose sides. I choose whoever plays time best."
The call ended.
Salvatore leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the vast sea before him.
With a faint smile, he whispered:
"If that's how it is… then I'll cheat time once more."