The Ghost in the Dark

Power wasn't just about winning battles. It was about knowing the war you were fighting.

And tonight, Luca realized he'd been fighting the wrong one.

—

The rain had stopped by the time Luca returned to his penthouse, but the tension in the air was heavier than ever. Moretti was dead. His betrayal had been swift, his punishment even swifter.

But something didn't add up.

Luca poured himself a drink, swirling the amber liquid in his glass as Henry paced across the room.

"This doesn't make sense," Henry muttered. "Moretti wasn't smart enough to pull this off on his own. Someone pushed him into betraying you."

Luca took a slow sip. "I know."

Sofia leaned against the bar, arms crossed. "So, who's the real threat?"

Luca didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. It had been tucked into Moretti's jacket—intentionally placed, meant to be found.

On it, a single word.

"Salvatore."

The name sent a chill down his spine.

Because Salvatore wasn't just a name.

It was a ghost.

—

Years ago, before Luca had taken control of the city, before DeLuca had even considered him a threat, there had been another man in the game.

Dante Salvatore.

A man who didn't rule through fear or brute force, but through secrets. He had an empire of shadows, dealing in blackmail, hidden alliances, and quiet assassinations. If you owed Salvatore a favor, you never truly escaped him.

Luca had watched him disappear five years ago. Some said he was dead. Others said he had simply retired.

Now?

Now, it seemed he was back.

Sofia whistled low. "If Salvatore's making moves, this just got a whole lot worse."

Henry's grip tightened around his glass. "What's the play?"

Luca exhaled. "We find him before he finds us."

—

It didn't take long to get a lead.

A whisper in the underground. A name tied to a club in the east side of the city—The Mirage.

Luca, Henry, and Sofia arrived just past midnight. The club was alive with music and flashing lights, a place where people came to drown their secrets in liquor. But Luca wasn't here to drink.

He was here to hunt.

They moved through the crowd with purpose. Luca's sharp eyes scanned the room until they landed on a man sitting in the VIP section, surrounded by women, his suit crisp, his smirk lazy.

Dominic Salvatore.

Dante's younger brother.

Luca slid into the seat across from him, ignoring the way the women around him tensed. Dominic didn't even flinch.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Luca said smoothly.

Dominic chuckled, swirling his drink. "Maybe I have."

Luca leaned forward. "Where's your brother?"

Dominic sighed, setting his glass down. "You always did ask the wrong questions, Luca."

And then, before Luca could react, Dominic snapped his fingers.

The club lights cut out.

Gunfire erupted.

Sofia cursed. Henry shoved Luca down as bullets sprayed across the VIP section. Chaos exploded around them.

Luca barely had time to process one thing before the fight started—

Salvatore hadn't been in hiding.

He'd been waiting.

—

Next Chapter: A Dance with the Devil – Luca faces an enemy who has been planning his downfall for years, and for the first time, he's not sure if he's already lost.