No God, No Mercy

The safe house was a forgotten relic in the city's underbelly—four walls of decayed brick, a single flickering bulb, and the scent of dust and old violence hanging in the air.

Dante slammed the door shut behind them, locking three different deadbolts. "This place is clean. Nobody knows about it."

Luca ignored him. He laid Evelyn carefully on the worn-out couch, his hands stained with her blood. She stirred, but barely.

"Eve," he murmured, brushing damp strands of hair from her face. "Stay awake. Don't you dare close your eyes."

Her lips parted. A ghost of a smile. "Bossy…"

His jaw clenched. "I mean it."

Dante tossed a med-kit onto the table. "We need to stop the bleeding."

Luca didn't waste time. He ripped open the box, grabbed gauze and antiseptic. His hands were steady, but inside, his rage boiled. Every second she lay here like this was another second he wanted to burn the world down.

Evelyn flinched as the alcohol touched her wound. "Luca—"

"Don't talk. Just breathe."

She tried to glare at him, but it was weak. Still, the fire in her eyes hadn't gone out. That was something. That was everything.

Dante leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You know we can't stay here long. Vincenzo won't stop."

Luca wrapped the bandage around Evelyn's side, too tight, but she didn't complain. He finally met Dante's gaze, and for the first time, his voice was cold.

"He tried to take her from me."

Dante nodded. "And?"

Luca stood, hands clenched into fists. His bloodied reflection stared back at him from a broken mirror across the room. He didn't recognize himself.

"He doesn't get to live after that."

Dante exhaled. "So it's war, then?"

Luca didn't answer.

But they both knew the truth.

The next time he saw his father, there would be no forgiveness. No second chances.

There would be no god to save him.

Only Luca.

And Luca had no mercy left to give.

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Next Chapter: Blood for Blood