The First Strike

The morning light barely touched the city when Matteo received the call.

He was in the safehouse's small kitchen, pouring himself a cup of black coffee, his mind already working through the next steps. Valeria was still asleep in the guest room, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself the illusion of quiet.

Then his phone rang.

A single look at the caller ID told him everything he needed to know.

Luca.

Matteo swiped to answer. "Tell me."

Luca's voice was sharp, laced with urgency. "We've got a problem. Moretti made his first move last night."

Matteo's hold on the mug tightened. "What happened?"

"One of our warehouses was hit. South docks. The place is torched, Matteo. We lost everything inside."

A muscle ticked in Matteo's jaw. The south docks weren't just another asset—they were a crucial part of his supply chain, a key piece of his control over the city.

And Moretti had just set it on fire.

"Casualties?"

Luca hesitated. "Three of our men didn't make it. Two more are in critical condition."

The coffee in Matteo's cup had gone cold. He set it down carefully, his expression unreadable. "Moretti's men?"

"None left behind. Clean exit. No survivors."

Smart. Moretti was sending a message. And he was careful enough not to leave anyone who could talk.

But Matteo had his own ways of uncovering secrets.

"Get me everything," Matteo said coldly. "Surveillance, witness reports, patterns in their movements. I want to know exactly how they pulled this off."

"Already on it." Luca paused. "What's the play, Matteo?"

Matteo exhaled slowly, his mind already forming a response. He wouldn't strike back immediately—not in a way Moretti expected.

No. He would make Moretti feel safe first. Make him believe he'd gained the upper hand.

And then he would tear his world apart.

Matteo's voice was cold when he spoke. "We make sure this is the last mistake he ever makes."

A New Reality

Valeria woke to the faint murmur of voices.

For a moment, she forgot where she was. The bed was too firm, the sheets unfamiliar. Then the memories of the previous night rushed back. The dinner. Moretti. The threat that now loomed over both of them.

She sat up, pushing the hair from her face. The door was slightly open, and she could hear Matteo speaking slowly in the other room.

Something had happened.

Valeria swung her legs out of bed, slipping on the silk robe Matteo had left for her. She didn't hesitate as she pushed open the door and stepped into the main living space.

Matteo was standing by the desk, his phone still in hand, his expression carved from stone.

His eyes moved to her as soon as she entered.

"You're awake."

Valeria folded her arms. "And you're planning something."

Matteo's lips curved, but there was no humor in it. "Moretti struck first. One of my warehouses was hit."

Her stomach tightened. "Casualties?"

Matteo didn't answer immediately.

That was enough to answer.

Valeria exhaled sharply. "So what now?"

Matteo studied her, as if assessing how much she could handle. Then he gestured toward the chair across from him.

"Sit."

She did.

Matteo leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. "Moretti thinks this is a game of brute force. He hits us, I hit him back. But I don't play that way."

Valeria met his looks. "Then how do you play?"

Matteo's smile was slow, lethal. "I make him bleed where it hurts most."

She understood immediately. Matteo wasn't going to respond with a simple show of force. He was going to go for Moretti's power.

His business.

His alliances.

His control.

She nodded slowly. "What do you need from me?"

Something changed lin Matteo's expression—something unreadable. He didn't look away as he spoke.

"I need to know if you're ready for this war."

A test. A challenge.

Valeria met his eyes without blinking. "I was born ready."

A Dangerous Proposal

By noon, the plan was in motion.

Matteo had gathered his top men in the safehouse. Luca, Dom, and a handful of his most trusted enforcers.

Valeria was the only woman in the room, but she didn't let that intimidate her. She had spent her whole life surrounded by men who underestimated her. She wasn't about to let that happen now.

Matteo stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding.

"We're going after Moretti's money," he said. "Hard. He has a shipment of arms moving through the east docks tomorrow night. We take it, we cut off one of his largest revenue streams."

Luca nodded. "Security?"

"Heavy," Matteo admitted. "But not impenetrable. We hit fast, we hit clean, and we leave nothing behind."

Dom smirked. "Sounds like my kind of party."

Valeria listened carefully, absorbing every detail. The plan was solid. Matteo had accounted for every variable.

Except one.

Herself.

"If you want to make this work," she said suddenly, "you're going to need someone who knows Moretti's tactics."

All eyes turned to her.

Matteo's brow lifted. "And you think that's you?"

Valeria leaned forward, her tone even. "I know that's me."

The room was silent for a beat.

Then Luca chuckled. "I like her," he muttered under his breath.

Matteo's gaze never left Valeria's. "You're sure about this?"

She nodded. "You need an edge. I am that edge."

Another pause. Then, Matteo's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk.

"Then let's make Moretti regret ever crossing me."