Chapter 19
The warehouse was silent except for the faint sound of a man’s labored breathing. He was tied to a chair in the center of the cold, empty room, sweat dripping down his face as he struggled against his restraints. Luca leaned against a nearby table, arms crossed, his expression as calm as it was dangerous. Behind him, two of Marco’s men lingered, their presence a silent threat.
“Talk,” Luca said coolly, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the air.
The De Luca operative’s head snapped up, his face pale but defiant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Luca sighed and pushed himself off the table, crouching to eye level with the man. “We caught you planting explosives at one of Marco’s warehouses. You’re De Luca—we know that. What we don’t know is who gave you the details about the shipment. That’s what I want to hear.”
The man stayed silent, his breathing shallow as his gaze darted between Luca and the men behind him.
“You think this is loyalty?” Luca continued, his voice soft, almost conversational. “The De Lucas won’t thank you for this. You’ll just be another body in the dirt when it’s over.”
The operative swallowed, his resolve flickering for the first time.
Luca straightened and nodded to one of Marco’s men. The man stepped forward, cracking his knuckles as he loomed closer. The sound alone was enough to make the operative flinch.
“Wait!” the man choked out, panic leaking into his voice.
Luca raised a hand, stopping the advance. “Start talking.”
The De Luca operative licked his lips, his eyes wild. “It’s not just us. Someone inside Marco’s operation has been feeding us intel. Setting traps, giving us routes, shipment schedules.”
Luca’s chest tightened, but his face remained unreadable. “Who?”
The man hesitated, shaking his head like he didn’t want to say it.
“Who?” Luca repeated, his voice sharper now.
Finally, the man’s gaze darted up, fear flashing in his eyes. “Arianna. It’s Arianna.”
The room went still.
Luca stared at him, his heart thudding in his chest. He had suspected for weeks, but hearing her name out loud, undeniable and damning, sent a rush of cold through him.
“You’re sure?” Luca pressed, his tone dangerous.
“Yes,” the man said quickly, nodding desperately. “She’s been feeding us information—meeting with our people. That’s how we knew where to strike.”
Luca turned away, his jaw tight as he processed the words. Proof. Finally, proof. He didn’t need to hear more. He signaled to Marco’s men, who dragged the operative out of the room as he pleaded for mercy.
The door slammed shut, leaving Luca alone in the quiet. He pulled out his phone, hesitating only briefly before dialing Marco.
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The streets of Venetti territory were darker than Carmen remembered, but she moved through the shadows without hesitation. She pulled her hood lower, staying close to the buildings as she approached her destination—a small club on the edge of town, one of Arianna’s known haunts.
Vincent had called in favors to get her this information, and Carmen didn’t intend to waste it. If Arianna was meeting with the De Lucas, she needed to see it with her own eyes. She needed proof.
She slipped into the alley beside the club, her pulse quickening as she crouched behind a dumpster, hidden in the shadows. She checked her phone. It was nearly midnight. She’ll come, Carmen told herself. She has to.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours before a black car pulled up to the back entrance of the club. Carmen’s breath caught as the back door opened and Arianna stepped out, dressed in her usual sharp elegance, her heels clicking softly against the pavement.
A moment later, two men emerged from the darkness—Enzo and Sofia De Luca.
Carmen’s hands trembled as she pulled out her phone, angling it carefully to capture the scene. The three of them exchanged a few words, their voices too low to hear, but their body language was enough. Arianna handed Sofia a small envelope, and Enzo laughed quietly, shaking his head as if the deal had already been sealed.
There it is, Carmen thought, snapping photo after photo. Proof.
Her heart pounded as she ducked further into the shadows, her mind racing. Arianna’s betrayal was undeniable now—her connection to the De Lucas laid bare. Carmen’s chest tightened at the thought of Marco, of what this would do to him, but she pushed it down. There was no time for doubt.
As Arianna disappeared back into the car and the De Lucas slipped away, Carmen stayed frozen in place, her back against the cold brick wall. She exhaled slowly, the tension easing just enough for her to move again.
She had what she needed. Now, she just had to figure out how to use it.
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Carmen stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over Marco’s contact. She was back in Vincent’s study, the room dim and silent, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.
The photos were still open on her screen, undeniable evidence of Arianna’s betrayal. She knew she needed to tell Marco—needed to make him see the truth before it was too late.
She dialed.
The phone rang twice before he picked up. “What?” Marco’s voice was sharp, distant.
Carmen closed her eyes briefly, steeling herself. “Marco, it’s me.”
There was silence on the other end, but she could hear his breathing.
“What do you want?” he said finally, his tone guarded.
“I have something you need to see,” Carmen said softly, keeping her voice steady. “Proof that Arianna is working with the De Lucas. She’s been lying to you, Marco.”
“You expect me to believe that?” he shot back, his anger bubbling to the surface. “You’re hiding with Vincent, feeding me your lies, and now you’re trying to turn me against her?”
“I’m not lying,” she said firmly, though the hurt crept into her voice. “I saw her, Marco. I have proof—photos of her with Enzo and Sofia. She’s feeding them information. She’s setting you up.”
His silence stretched, but Carmen could hear the doubt in his pause. “Where are you?”
“Does it matter?” she replied quietly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I was standing in front of you.”
“Then why are you calling?” Marco asked, his voice softer now, almost weary.
Carmen’s hand drifted to her stomach, the small swell beneath her coat a quiet reminder of everything that was at stake. “Because I care about you,” she said finally. “Because I care about what happens next.”
Marco let out a rough breath, but he said nothing.
Carmen’s chest tightened as she considered telling him the truth about the baby. It hung on the edge of her tongue, just one sentence away from being real—Marco, I’m pregnant.
But then she heard it again in his voice—the hesitation, the doubt. Arianna’s whispers were still too loud, her influence too strong.
“Just look at the photos,” Carmen said instead, her voice breaking slightly. “Before it’s too late.”
She ended the call before he could respond, her hands trembling as she set the phone down. Her heart ached with the weight of what she hadn’t said, but she knew it wasn’t time. Not yet.
Across the room, Vincent leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a raised eyebrow. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”
Carmen shook her head, unable to speak.
Vincent let out a quiet sigh. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Carmen.”
“I’m protecting him,” she replied softly, her voice steadying as she looked at him. “Whether he wants me to or not.”
Vincent studied her for a moment before nodding, and retreating into the hallway.
Carmen stayed in the silent room, her hand resting protectively on her stomach, her resolve hardening. Arianna’s time was running out. Marco would see the truth soon enough—and when he did, she would be ready.
