Chapter 3 Shadows In Motion
The bass of the club thudded in Luca’s chest. Neon lights flickered across the crowd, washing faces in blue and red, highlighting sweat and laughter, fleeting touches, whispered secrets.
He leaned back into the booth, whiskey glass in hand, a girl pressed against him, her lips tracing his jaw with practiced audacity. Luca laughed low, letting the moment stretch, indulgent and dangerous.
“I like this,” she murmured, fingers trailing along his arm.
“You have no idea,” he replied, a dangerous curve to his lips.
But the thrill didn’t last. A presence approached, slicing through the haze like a knife. The girl paused, sensing it, but Luca’s eyes already caught the movement, a man, tall, sharp, familiar in a way that made the muscles in Luca’s jaw tighten.
“Excuse me for a moment,” he murmured to the girl, brushing her hair aside casually. “Stay… entertained.”
She pouted her lips as she walked back into the crowd, leaving him alone. Luca tilted his head, assessing the man as he slid into the booth opposite.
“Your brother,” the man said with a low voice, “he brought someone home tonight. A girl. She’s new.”
Luca froze, not entirely, but enough for a flicker of interest to sharpen in his storm-gray eyes. His fingers drummed against the glass, slow but deliberate. “Dante?” he asked smoothly.
The man leaned back. “Yeah. Said she… volunteered, or something. Either way, he didn’t strike me as pleased. You know him, he's not one to do such.”
A slow, dangerous smile tugged at Luca’s lips. He drained his whiskey, feeling the fire of it burn down to his core.
“Interesting,” he said softly, leaning back, letting the chair tilt, letting the music pulse through him. “And she stayed?”
“She went with him,” the man said, eyes flicking.
“Dante had taken a girl home, without him knowing, without consulting him. That alone was telling.” Luca thought to himself.
Luca leaned forward, voice smooth in a teasing way. “She’ll be interesting. I like interesting.”
He moved toward the exit, the club’s noise fading behind him. Dante had crossed a line enough to spark curiosity,
----
The sun had barely risen when Marco Romano slipped quietly into his mum's hospital room. His mother lay in her bed, frail and pale, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor filling the quiet room.
“Marco,” Maria whispered, her voice laced with concern, “come closer. How are you and your sister?”
Marco forced a smile, “ We are fine mum.”
Maria’s eyes narrowed slightly, scanning his face. “Where’s Isabella? She didn’t come with you today?”
Marco’s throat went dry. He cleared it, fumbling for an excuse. “Ah… Izzy? She’s busy, helping out at the cafe, you know the breakfast rush and all.”
Maria reached out, her frail hand brushing his. “Marco… I need you to be honest with me. You’re not causing your sister trouble, are you?”
The words hit him harder than any slap. Marco’s jaw tightened, guilt coiling in his stomach. He wanted to tell her the truth, the whole truth but he couldn’t. Not now.
“ I’d never, mum, I swear.” His voice cracked slightly, betraying him.
Maria’s eyes softened, but her worry didn’t fade. “Marco… bills, the apartment, everything is falling on her shoulders, It's too much. You have to help. Don’t let her carry all of this alone.”
Marco nodded, biting his lip. He thought of the past few weeks, the gambling, the debts. Every reckless choice he’d made had pulled his sister closer to danger, closer to Dante Moretti, and now the cost was unbearable.
“I know, Mum,” he muttered, glancing down at his hands. “I know and I'm trying but it seems” He trailed off, unable to continue, the shame was suffocating.
Maria squeezed his hand gently. “Marco… just promise me you’re careful. Promise me you won't do anything that’ll hurt you and your sister. Both of you are all I have right now.”
Marco nodded again, swallowing hard. “I promise, Mum.” but inside, the promise felt hollow.
“How will I pay the bills for my mum's treatment?” Marco thought to himself, he felt trapped, cornered, powerless.
He stayed a few more minutes, talking about small things, distracting her from worry, letting her rest. But once he stepped out into the morning air, his guilt overwhelmed him.
Deep down, Marco knew, the danger wasn’t over. It was only the beginning.
---
Dante Moretti stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city sprawled beneath him, glittering like fractured glass.
Matteo Ricci watched him from the doorway, arms crossed. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable, it was necessary. Silence in this room was more dangerous than noise.
“You let him go,” Matteo said finally, voice calm but edged with steel.
Dante didn’t turn. His hands were clasped behind his back, knuckles white against the tailored black suit. “Marco?” His voice was low, almost casual.
“Yes. Your brother’s reckless little liability,” Matteo replied, stepping closer. “You could’ve-”
“I know what I could’ve done,” Dante interrupted, voice like ice sliding over steel. “I didn’t.”
Matteo frowned. “Then explain it. Why? He’s a mistake waiting to happen, and now the girl, why take her?”
Dante finally turned, his eyes piercing . His gaze pinned Matteo in place, the kind of stare that demanded obedience without words. “She’s connected,” he said quietly, deliberately. “Her father…”
“Her father?” Matteo raised an eyebrow, skeptical but wary. “You rarely”
“I have unfinished business with him,” Dante cut in, voice sharp, like a knife dragging across marble. “Nothing more. For now.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened. He knew better than to press. Dante’s mind was a blade, precise, always moving.
Matteo’s voice was low, almost hesitant. “And if she… resists?”
“She won’t,” Dante said simply, a flicker of amusement crossing his sharp features. But his eyes betrayed something Matteo rarely saw, anticipation and something else.
Matteo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You always make it sound so simple.”
Dante’s smirk was fleeting, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. “Because it is. Until it isn’t.”
Matteo didn’t respond. He knew arguing would be pointless. Dante Moretti’s mind didn’t work in arguments, it worked in outcomes. And tonight, the outcome was clear, Isabella Romano was now a piece on Dante’s board.
“Keep her safe,” Dante said finally, voice low but commanding. “She’s important. For reasons you don’t need to question.”
