The Price of Silence

Chapter 11: The Price of Silence

(First-person POV: Alessia)

The quiet of the house was oppressive, a silence that screamed louder than any argument I'd heard in this place. It felt unnatural, almost staged, like the calm before a storm. And deep down, I knew the storm was inevitable.

Matteo had been gone all day, leaving me with more questions than answers. Luca was nowhere to be seen, and Nico… well, Nico was Nico. Always there but never saying much.

I sat in the living room, my thoughts swirling like a vortex. The folder from Matteo's office haunted me. The faces in the photos, the ominous warning—the traitor is closer than you think.

But who was the traitor? And why did I have the sinking feeling that it was someone I'd spoken to, someone I thought I could trust?

The sound of footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Sofia entering the room, her sharp green eyes scanning me like a hawk assessing prey.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she said, her voice dripping with curiosity.

"Maybe I have," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Sofia smirked and took a seat across from me, crossing her legs gracefully. "Let me guess—Matteo told you nothing, and now you're left spinning in circles, wondering why you ever agreed to this marriage in the first place."

I blinked at her, surprised by her bluntness. "I didn't agree to anything," I said. "This wasn't exactly my choice."

Her smile faltered, and for a moment, she looked almost… sympathetic. "None of us get a choice in this family, Alessia. You learn to adapt, or you…" She trailed off, her expression darkening.

"Or you what?" I pressed.

She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Or you disappear."

A chill ran down my spine. I searched her face for some sign that she was joking, but her expression was deadly serious.

"What do you mean by that?"

Before Sofia could answer, the door slammed open, and Luca strode into the room. His presence sucked all the air out of the space, his dark suit and confident stride making him look every bit the predator he was.

"Ah, my two favorite women," he said, his tone oozing charm. But his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes—were focused on me.

"What do you want, Luca?" Sofia asked, her voice sharper than I'd ever heard it.

He ignored her, his gaze never leaving mine. "Alessia, can we talk?"

I hesitated, glancing at Sofia for guidance. She gave me a slight shake of her head, her warning clear.

"Alessia," Luca said again, his tone softer now. "I just want to clear the air between us. That's all."

Against my better judgment, I nodded. "Fine."

Sofia stood abruptly. "If you'll excuse me, I suddenly have somewhere else to be." She brushed past Luca without a second glance, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

Luca waited until she was gone before sitting down across from me. For a moment, he said nothing, simply studying me as though he were trying to solve a puzzle.

"I know you don't trust me," he said finally.

"You've given me no reason to," I replied, my voice steady.

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Fair enough. But I'm not the one you should be worrying about."

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Matteo," he said simply.

My stomach tightened. "What about Matteo?"

Luca leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "He's not who you think he is, Alessia. You think he's protecting you, but the truth is… he's hiding things from you. Things that could change everything."

"Like what?" I demanded.

He hesitated, as though weighing his next words carefully. "Like who really killed your father."

The world tilted beneath me.

"What did you just say?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

"You heard me," he said, his eyes boring into mine. "Your father's death wasn't an accident, Alessia. Matteo knows the truth, but he won't tell you. Because if he did…" Luca leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "You'd hate him."

"You're lying," I said, my voice shaking.

"Am I?" he countered. "Ask him yourself. See if he denies it."

I stood abruptly, my hands clenched into fists. "I don't have to listen to this."

Luca shrugged. "Suit yourself. But remember, Alessia—loyalty has a price. And sometimes, the people you trust the most are the ones holding the knife."

I stormed out of the room, my heart racing. Luca's words echoed in my mind, each one sharper than the last. Could he be telling the truth?

When Matteo returned later that evening, I was waiting for him in his office. He looked surprised to see me there, but his expression quickly shifted to one of calm control.

"Alessia," he said, closing the door behind him. "What's wrong?"

I held up the folder I'd found earlier, my hands trembling. "What is this, Matteo?"

His eyes flicked to the folder, and for the first time, I saw something crack in his armor.

"Where did you find that?" he asked, his voice low.

"Does it matter?" I shot back. "What's in here, Matteo? And why did Luca say you're hiding the truth about my father?"

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer to me. "Luca doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Then tell me the truth!" I shouted, my voice breaking.

He stared at me for a long moment, his dark eyes filled with something I couldn't quite place. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Your father didn't die in an accident, Alessia. He was killed. And I know who did it."

The room spun around me, and I had to grip the edge of the desk to steady myself.

"Who?" I demanded, my voice trembling.

Matteo hesitated, his expression torn. "It was someone close to him. Someone we trusted."

"Who?" I shouted.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with regret. And then he said the name.

"Luca."

My blood turned to ice.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "That's not possible."

"It's the truth," Matteo said, his voice firm. "Luca betrayed us all. And now, he's trying to turn you against me. Don't let him win, Alessia."

Before I could respond, the sound of a gunshot echoed through the house, cutting through the air like a blade.

Matteo's eyes widened, and he grabbed my arm, pulling me behind him.

"Stay here," he ordered, his voice sharp.

But I didn't listen.

As Matteo rushed out of the room, I followed close behind, my heart pounding in my chest.

The sound of voices—shouting, panicked—filled the hallway. And then I saw him.

Luca stood at the end of the hall, a gun in his hand, and blood staining his shirt.

He looked up, his eyes locking with mine.

"Alessia," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around him. "It's time you learned the truth."