CHAPTER 66: BETRAYAL’S BLADE

The storm that had been gathering finally broke. It didn’t roar with thunder or crackle with lightning, it came quietly, disguised as a whisper that sliced deeper than any scream.

Luca stood in the center of the war room, palms flat on the mahogany table, eyes fixed on the maps and dossiers spread across it. His men circled around him in tense silence. Every one of them could feel the change in the air, something had gone horribly wrong.

"Two trucks rerouted. One convoy hit. And the shipment from Naples?" Marco reported grimly. "Intercepted. No survivors."

A muscle ticked in Luca’s jaw. That shipment was supposed to be untouchable, only five people had known its route. Five. And one of them had betrayed him.

"Who had access to the Naples manifest?" Luca’s voice was a low growl, the kind that made even hardened men hesitate.

Marco hesitated. "Only you...me...Alessio...and Matteo."

The silence that followed was heavy. Everyone knew the unspoken truth. Alessio had been with Luca since they were kids, loyal to the bone. Marco would die before he betrayed the family. And Luca...

That left one.

"Matteo," Luca murmured, the name tasting bitter on his tongue.

"Boss..." Marco started, but Luca raised a hand to silence him.

He wasn’t ready to accept it. Matteo was his brother. They’d built everything together, every empire brick, every deal sealed in blood and trust. Betrayal from Matteo wasn’t just treason. It was unthinkable.

And yet...

Aria’s voice echoed in his head from weeks before, soft and uncertain. "What if someone close to you is working against you?"

He had brushed it off then. Not Matteo. Never Matteo.

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Aria found him still standing there an hour later, unmoving, his hands now clenched into fists on the table. She didn’t speak at first. She just walked up behind him and rested her hand gently on his back.

"Talk to me," she said quietly.

He didn’t answer right away. His silence was heavier than any words. Finally, he exhaled and turned to face her.

"The ambush wasn’t random," he said. "It was an inside job. Someone gave them the route."

Her heart skipped. "And you think it’s Matteo."

"I don’t want to think that." His voice cracked slightly. "But no one else had that information. And if it’s him..." He trailed off, unable to finish.

Aria stepped closer, taking his hand. "Luca, listen to me. Betrayal from a stranger hurts. Betrayal from blood destroys. But pretending it isn’t happening will destroy you even faster."

He stared at her for a long moment, searching, maybe, for doubt or accusation. But all he found was truth. And strength.

"Then we need proof," she continued. "Hard evidence. If Matteo’s betrayed you, we expose it. If he hasn’t...then we protect him."

Luca nodded slowly. "I’ll find the proof. One way or another."

The plan was simple, at least on paper. Luca would feed false intel, a baited route known only to Matteo and one other trusted soldier. If that convoy was hit, the answer would be clear.

But simplicity rarely survived contact with betrayal.

Three nights later, the convoy left the compound under cover of darkness, supposedly carrying a fortune in weapons. In reality, the trucks were empty, mere decoys. Luca didn’t even send his best men with them. The mission wasn’t to protect the cargo. It was to catch a traitor.

Aria watched Luca from the balcony as he stood below, speaking quietly into his comms. He looked older tonight, not in years, but in weight. The kind of weight only betrayal could carve into someone’s bones.

"Do you hate him?" she asked when she came down to join him.

Luca didn’t look at her. "No. That’s the worst part."

They waited. An hour. Two. Three.

At 2:17 a.m., Marco’s voice crackled through the radio. "Boss. Convoy ambushed at checkpoint Delta. Same pattern as before."

Luca closed his eyes. That was all the proof he needed.

Matteo was the leak.

He didn’t confront his brother immediately. Rage was too close to the surface, too dangerous. He needed time, time to think, to breathe, to not put a bullet in Matteo’s skull the moment he saw him.

But fate didn’t grant him that time. Matteo walked into the office the next morning like nothing was wrong, a charming grin on his face and a cup of espresso in his hand.

"Morning, fratello," Matteo said, tossing Luca the cup. "You look like hell."

Luca caught it without a word, his gaze locked on Matteo’s face. He wondered how long his brother had been lying. How many times he’d smiled like this while sharpening the knife.

"Rough night," Luca said flatly.

Matteo raised an eyebrow. "Convoy trouble?"

Luca’s heart clenched. He hadn’t told Matteo about the convoy. Not this one.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Someone sold us out again."

Matteo’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second, barely noticeable. But Luca saw it.

"Any leads?" Matteo asked, too casually.

"Working on it." Luca stood, circling the desk until they were face-to-face. "But I have a feeling the answer is closer than I think."

Matteo chuckled lightly, but there was tension in it. "You accusing me of something, brother?"

Luca stared at him, silent.

The air between them thickened, every second dragging like a blade across flesh. Finally, Matteo sighed and looked away. "You always were paranoid."

"Not paranoid," Luca murmured. "Prepared."

Matteo left without another word. But the damage was done. The mask had slipped, even if just for a second.

That night, Aria found Luca sitting alone in the dark, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn’t look up when she entered.

"Did he admit it?" she asked gently.

"No." Luca’s voice was hollow. "But he didn’t deny it either."

She sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. "What will you do?"

"I don’t know." He let out a bitter laugh. "If it were anyone else, they’d already be dead. But Matteo..." He shook his head. "I keep thinking of when we were kids. He took beatings for me. Stole for me. We bled for each other. And now he’s selling me out."

Aria laced her fingers through his. "Sometimes the people we’d take a bullet for are the ones pulling the trigger."

Luca swallowed hard. "I just don’t know why. Why would he do this?"

There was no answer. Not yet. But Luca vowed he would find one — even if it destroyed what little remained between them.

The next betrayal didn’t come from a convoy. It came from blood itself.

A week later, during a sit-down with allies from the Ricci family, a sniper’s bullet shattered the window behind Luca and buried itself in the wall inches from his head.

Chaos erupted. Men drew guns, shouting, ducking for cover. Aria screamed his name, but Luca was already moving, barking orders, securing the perimeter.

The shooter vanished into the night. But the message was clear. This wasn’t just a leak anymore. It was an execution attempt.

"Internal," Marco confirmed grimly when they reviewed the security footage. "The sniper knew our window schedule. Our exact meeting time."

And only one person had arranged that meeting: Matteo.

Luca’s restraint snapped.

He confronted Matteo in the courtyard that night, the rain coming down in sheets, soaking them both.

"Tell me the truth," Luca demanded, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Did you set that hit up?"

Matteo froze. "What are you talking about?"

"Answer me!" Luca roared, shoving him hard against the stone wall. "Did you betray me?"

For a moment, Matteo’s mask slipped completely — and beneath it, Luca saw something that looked a lot like guilt.

"I did what I had to do," Matteo spat. "You think this empire is yours alone? You think you can crown yourself king and leave me scraps?"

Luca’s world tilted. "This isn’t about money."

"It’s always about power," Matteo hissed. "You were supposed to share it. But no — everything’s ’Luca’s decision,’ ’Luca’s orders.’ And now her." He sneered Aria’s name like it was poison. "The princess with royal blood. You’d throw me aside for her."

"This isn’t about her either," Luca growled.

"It’s about everything!" Matteo shoved him back. "I built this with you. I bled for this. And now you’d hand it over to a woman who didn’t even know our world existed a year ago!"

The truth crashed over Luca like ice water. Matteo wasn’t just betraying him. He was trying to replace him.

"You’ve lost yourself," Luca said quietly, heartbreak threading his words. "This isn’t the brother I knew."

"Maybe you never knew me at all," Matteo shot back. "Maybe you only saw the shadow standing behind you."

They stood there, two brothers now strangers, rain soaking through their clothes, thunder rumbling overhead.

Finally, Luca stepped back. "You’re done."

Matteo laughed, a bitter, broken sound. "You don’t have the guts to kill me."

"Maybe not," Luca said. "But you’re out. You come near Aria again, near my people, near anything I built, and I will end you."

For the first time, fear flickered in Matteo’s eyes. But beneath it was something worse. Hatred.

"This isn’t over," he whispered, and then he was gone, swallowed by the rain and the night.

Luca stood there long after Matteo disappeared, rain mixing with the tears he refused to admit were there.

When Aria found him, she didn’t speak. She just wrapped her arms around him and held him as he shook not from fear, but from grief.

"I lost my brother tonight," he whispered into her hair.

"No," she said softly. "He lost you."

But even as she said it, both of them knew the truth: Matteo wasn’t gone. Not really. Betrayal like his didn’t vanish into the dark. It regrouped. It plotted. It struck again.

And next time, it wouldn’t just aim for Luca. It would aim for them both.

The blade of betrayal had been drawn. And the war it unleashed was only just beginning.