Chapter 41: The Weight of the Past

The tension from the previous night still clung to the walls of the estate like a thick fog. The air inside the mansion felt heavy, suffocating, as though something unseen lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike. Marco could feel it.

He stood outside in the courtyard, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the gray morning sky. The sun had barely risen, casting weak golden hues over the horizon. It should've been a new beginning, a fresh start, but instead, he felt like a man standing on the edge of a blade.

The choices before him were dangerous. Luca had made his move, pushing him into a corner. Forcing him to decide.

Antonio's warning from the night before echoed in his mind:

"Luca won't wait forever."

Marco exhaled slowly, trying to steady his thoughts. He had spent the night wrestling with everything—Luca's control, Anna's presence, his own doubts. But the truth was, there was no easy way out of this.

A voice broke his thoughts.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Marco turned, spotting Antonio standing in the doorway. His arms were crossed, a knowing expression in his sharp eyes. He wasn't here for small talk.

Marco let out a dry chuckle. "Maybe I have."

Antonio studied him for a moment before stepping forward. "You need to figure this out before it's too late." His voice was serious. "Luca won't let this go."

Marco sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yeah. I know."

Before either of them could continue, a sudden, sharp knock echoed down the hall.

Both men tensed.

Marco turned toward the source of the sound. His stomach twisted. Anna.

She stood at the threshold, her arms wrapped around herself, her gaze flickering between them. Even from a distance, Marco could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands curled slightly—as if bracing herself for whatever came next.

She was nervous.

But more than that, she was determined.

She spoke first. "I need to know the truth."

Marco exhaled, stepping forward. "The truth about what?"

Anna's gaze didn't waver. "About you. About Luca. About what's really happening here."

For a brief moment, Marco considered lying. It would be easier.

But then—a memory hit him like a knife to the ribs.

Five Years Ago – The Blood That Tied Them

The warehouse smelled of blood and gasoline.

Marco stood over a body, his hands slick with sweat and something worse. The weight of his own gun felt heavier than ever before.

The man at his feet was barely breathing. But that didn't matter. He wouldn't be for long.

Beside him, Luca stood calm. Unshaken.

"This was necessary," Luca said, voice steady.

Marco swallowed, forcing himself to look down at the lifeless eyes of the man they had just executed.

"He was unarmed," Marco muttered, his voice hoarse.

Luca turned to him, dark eyes unreadable. "He was a rat. And you know what happens to rats."

Marco clenched his fists. Something about this felt wrong.

But then—Luca's hand was on his shoulder. Firm. A reminder.

"This is the life, Marco," Luca continued, his voice smooth, commanding. "You don't hesitate. You don't question."

Marco nodded.

But deep inside, something inside him shifted that night.

A crack in the foundation.

A doubt that had only grown larger with time.

Present Day – A Choice That Couldn't Be Undone

Marco blinked, pulling himself back to the present.

Anna was still standing there, waiting for his answer.

His chest tightened.

"Come with me," he said.

Anna frowned. "What?"

"Away from here." His voice was softer now, but urgent. Desperate.

Anna's breath hitched. "Marco—"

He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "If we stay, we'll always be playing by Luca's rules. And you and I both know how that ends."

She hesitated, her expression torn.

"You're asking me to betray him," she whispered.

Marco shook his head. "No. I'm asking you to choose yourself. For once."

Anna's lips parted slightly, her fingers twitching as if she was unsure whether to reach for him or push him away.

But before either of them could move—

A gunshot rang through the estate.

Their heads snapped toward the sound.

A second shot followed.

Marco's pulse spiked. "Stay behind me."

But Anna was already moving.

"Damn it," Marco cursed under his breath, drawing his gun as he followed her toward the commotion.

They rounded the corner, nearly crashing into Antonio, who had his gun drawn. His face was tense.

"Luca?" Marco demanded.

Antonio didn't answer right away. He was scanning the hallway, his sharp gaze assessing the danger.

Then he looked at Marco.

And the look in his eyes sent a chill down Marco's spine.

"He knows," Antonio murmured.

Marco's stomach dropped.

"Knows what?" Anna asked, stepping closer.

Antonio's jaw clenched. "That you were never fully loyal to him."

Anna inhaled sharply, turning to Marco. She was starting to understand.

This wasn't just about secrets anymore.

This was war.

And it was about to begin.