Matteo's Coup

Chapter 36: Matteo's Coup

Isla's wrists throbbed from the tight metal cuffs binding her to the chair. The dim, flickering light overhead cast long, eerie shadows against the warehouse walls. The place smelled of old metal, gasoline, and something rotten. It was the kind of place where people disappeared, their screams swallowed by the silence.

She had been taken straight from Dante's mansion, barely given time to register the betrayal before Matteo's men had shoved a bag over her head and dragged her into a waiting car. Now, sitting before Matteo DeLuca, Dante's ambitious and power-hungry cousin, she forced herself to remain calm.

Matteo, dressed impeccably in a dark suit, paced leisurely before her, rolling a glass of whiskey in his hand like he had all the time in the world. His brown eyes were cold, filled with amusement as he studied her.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment," Matteo murmured, stopping in front of her. He crouched to her level, smirking. "You've made quite the mess, Isla. Or should I say, Isla Romano?"

She forced a smirk despite the way her heart pounded. "You did your homework. Congratulations."

Matteo chuckled, reaching out and brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. She flinched at the contact. "I have to admit, watching you sink your claws into Dante has been entertaining. I almost didn't believe it at first. The cold-hearted bastard actually cares for you. That makes you valuable."

"I'm not valuable to you," she shot back. "You just needed bait."

His smirk deepened. "Smart girl." He stood, stepping back. "Dante has ruled the DeLuca empire with an iron fist, always looking over his shoulder, trusting no one. But you…" He let out a chuckle. "You slid right under his skin, right into his bed. And now, he'll walk into my trap."

Isla bit her tongue, refusing to let the panic take over. She knew Dante would come for her. That much was inevitable. The problem was how. If Matteo truly had an army waiting, Dante could be walking straight into his execution.

"Let him go, Matteo," she said, testing the waters. "You want power? Fine. But Dante's not stupid. You really think he'll just hand it over?"

Matteo's jaw twitched. He poured himself another drink and took a slow sip before speaking again. "Dante is too dangerous to be left alive. As long as he breathes, he'll fight for control. But if he's dead…" He gestured vaguely. "I'll take my rightful place as the head of the DeLuca family."

"And you think the other families will just accept you?" she asked, raising a brow. "The moment they find out you killed Dante, they'll turn on you. You don't have his respect, Matteo."

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he quickly masked his irritation with a smirk. "Oh, Bella," he murmured mockingly, using her fake name. "You really think you know everything, don't you?"

Before she could respond, the doors swung open, and two of Matteo's men dragged in another prisoner—Luca.

Isla's stomach dropped.

Blood dripped from Luca's nose, his lip split open. His hands were bound behind his back, his suit torn and stained with dirt and blood. Despite the state he was in, he still managed to smirk as they forced him onto his knees.

Matteo clucked his tongue. "Luca, Luca, Luca… I offered you a chance to join me. And yet, here you are."

Luca chuckled, spitting blood onto the floor. "I'd rather be dead than follow a coward like you."

Matteo's smirk faded. He stepped closer and grabbed Luca's hair, yanking his head back. "Dante's not here to save you," he murmured. "Neither of you."

Isla's pulse pounded. She had to think, had to figure out a way to stall. If Dante was coming, she needed to make sure he didn't walk into an ambush.

"Kill me, then," Luca taunted. "Let's see how your men react when you start gutting your own family."

Matteo let out a slow, dark chuckle. "Oh, I'm not going to kill you. Yet." He let go of Luca's hair and turned back to Isla.

"You, on the other hand…" He tilted his head. "What do you think Dante will do when he sees you with a bullet in your head?"

Her blood ran cold.

Matteo was toying with her, but she knew he wasn't bluffing.

"You won't kill me," she said firmly.

He raised a brow. "No?"

"If I'm dead, you lose your leverage."

Matteo chuckled, his gaze darkening. "Maybe I don't need leverage. Maybe I just want to see the look on Dante's face when I put a bullet between your eyes."

She swallowed hard, but before she could respond, a commotion outside the warehouse caught everyone's attention. The guards tensed, reaching for their weapons.

Matteo smirked. "Right on time."

Dante.

Isla's heart pounded. He had come.

But was it already too late?

---