Elena sat by the rain-speckled window of Luca's safehouse, her knees drawn to her chest, wrapped in a thick sweater that carried his scent.
The city lights blurred into a watery haze outside, but it was the storm inside her heart that kept her restless. She hadn't seen Luca in hours-not since the explosion that almost claimed their lives the previous night.
Luca had gone off, chasing leads, refusing to take her with him. Again.
A part of her hated him for always shutting her out. Another part, the one that had begun to crave the feel of his fingers lacing with hers, understood.
The door creaked open. Her heart leapt before she even turned.
"Luca?"
He stepped inside, soaked from the rain, the weight of something heavy in his eyes.
"Elena," he murmured, his voice low and tight.
"Pack your things. We're leaving."
"What? Why? What happened?"
He tossed a duffel bag onto the couch. "They know where we are. Someone gave us up."
She stood, tension surging through her. "Who?"
He didn't meet her eyes. "There's something I need to show you."
He pulled a small envelope from his jacket and handed it to her. Inside were photographs. Grainy surveillance stills. Her. At the café. Meeting with her editor. Talking to her source.
"Where did you get these?" she whispered.
"They were sent to me. No note. Just these."
Her stomach turned. "Someone's been watching me."
"And they know about us now," Luca said, stepping closer. "About our connection."
She flinched, but his hands reached for her, his touch gentler than she expected. "You're not safe here."
"Where are we going?" she asked, heart pounding.
"To the one place no one would think to look," he said grimly. "Back to where it all began. Naples."
The road to Naples was long, dark, and soaked in the kind of silence that bred dangerous thoughts. Elena watched Luca's hands on the wheel, the veins in his forearms flexing with each shift of gears. He was tense. Distant. But underneath it, she could see the storm in him too.
"What's in Naples?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"My old mentor," he replied. "He trained me, brought me into the Moretti family. He vanished years ago. If anyone knows who's pulling strings behind the scenes, it's him."
"Do you trust him?"
Luca's jaw clenched. "No. But I don't have a choice."
They arrived at dawn. The villa stood at the edge of the coast, surrounded by cliffs and mist. It looked abandoned.
"Wait here," Luca said as he got out.
Elena didn't. Of course she didn't.
She followed at a distance, her curiosity burning hotter than fear. The villa's door creaked open, and a tall man stepped out. Graying hair, sharp features, eyes like a hawk. He didn't look surprised to see Luca.
"I thought you were dead," the man said.
"Same," Luca replied coldly.
"And this must be the mate," the man added, glancing directly at where Elena stood.
She froze.
"Come out, girl. You're not good at hiding."
Luca turned sharply. "Elena-damn it."
She stepped into the open, lifting her chin.
"Who are you?" she asked.
The man smiled faintly. "I'm the man who made Luca Moretti into what he is."
Inside the villa, secrets dripped from the walls. Old photographs. Weapons. Blueprints. Maps. It was a war room disguised as a home.
The man introduced himself as Dario.
He poured them whiskey and settled across from them.
"You're not just being hunted by the Moretti's enemies," Dario said. "You're being hunted by the Morettis themselves."
Luca stiffened. "What are you talking about?"
"They know you've gone rogue. That you're no longer following orders. And they've found out about your mate. A liability, in their eyes."
Elena paled.
"But why would they turn on Luca?" she asked.
"Because he was the best," Dario said. "And the best always becomes a threat."
Luca slammed the glass down. "Why now? After all these years of loyalty?"
Dario leaned forward. "Because you're not the only assassin they trained. And the other one? He's been sent to finish what you won't."
That night, Elena couldn't sleep. She stood on the balcony, the sea whispering below.
Luca joined her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. She leaned into him.
"Do you regret it?" she whispered.
"Regret what?"
"Being with me. All of this."
He turned her around, eyes fierce. "You're the only thing I don't regret."
His lips claimed hers, desperate, searching. Fire surged between them as he pressed her against the stone railing. The kiss deepened, their connection undeniable-flames battling the chill of uncertainty.
But just as quickly, he pulled away.
"I need to tell you something," he said, voice raw.
"The assassin they sent..."
She waited, breath held.
"...is my brother."
Elena recoiled. "You have a brother?"
He nodded. "You met him once. Briefly. In Milan. He was undercover. Name's Matteo."
She remembered a man-smiling, charming, but with eyes too cold for comfort.
"He's coming for us?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Can we stop him?"
Luca hesitated. "He was always better than me. But I have something he doesn't."
"What?"
"You."
The next morning, the villa was under siege.
Gunfire cracked through the coastal air. Dario barked orders, and Luca threw Elena a pistol.
"Stay close!" he shouted.
Matteo came through the smoke like a ghost. Dressed in black, eyes like Luca's but void of warmth.
"I warned you," Matteo said as they faced off in the courtyard.
"I'm not afraid of you," Luca growled.
"You should be."
They fought-brother against brother. Blades flashing, fists colliding. Blood spilled. And in the chaos, Elena fired her first shot.
It hit Matteo in the leg, staggering him.
Luca didn't hesitate. He pinned Matteo down, a blade at his throat.
But he didn't kill him.
"Tell them I'm dead," Luca hissed. "Tell them you finished me."
Matteo's eyes widened. "Why?"
"To keep her safe."
They escaped before the authorities arrived. Dario stayed behind, covering their tracks.
On a train bound for the countryside, Elena leaned against Luca.
"You let him go," she said.
"I couldn't kill him," Luca admitted. "But he'll keep our secret. He owes me that much."
Elena reached for his hand. "What now?"
Luca looked out the window. "Now, we disappear. Together."
And as the landscape rushed by, so did their old lives-fading into shadows.
But secrets never stay buried. Not forever.
And the mafia? Never forgets.