Chapter 8 - THE EMPTY APARTMENTMy apartment exploded at 2:14 in the morning.
I was not inside.
Nietzsche was not inside.
Nothing alive was inside.
That did not stop Luca from going silent when he saw the flames.
I stood beside him.
“Luca.”
He did not answer.
“I'm here.”
“I know.”
His voice sounded wrong.
I stepped in front of him.
“Look at me.”
He did.
Fear.
Real fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
“He wants you afraid,” I said.
“He succeeded.”
My chest tightened.
Luca touched my face.
“If you had been inside—”
“I wasn't.”
“But if—”
“I wasn't.”
He kissed my forehead.
Behind us, Marco pretended not to watch.
The fire department found a message.
ONE SON LEFT.
Vittorio planned to kill Luca.
Matteo wanted to become bait.
Luca refused.
They shouted for twenty minutes.
I listened.
Then I interrupted.
“Both of you are idiots.”
They stopped.
“Thank you,” Marco said.
I pointed toward the map.
“Vittorio doesn't want Luca dead.”
Silence.
“He shot him,” Matteo said.
“To scare me.”
I moved markers.
“He needs Luca.”
“For what?” Luca asked.
“The organization.”
I looked at him.
“Vittorio is old. His network is exposed. His money is frozen.”
Matteo understood first.
“He needs Luca's legitimate companies.”
“Yes.”
Luca frowned.
“So?”
“So give them to him.”
Everyone stared.
“Blair,” Marco said carefully, “did the explosion damage your brain from a distance?”
“Fake the transfer.”
Luca's eyes sharpened.
“Create documents.”
“Make him believe you will surrender everything.”
“And where?”
I smiled.
“The restaurant.”
Luca stared at me.
“Bellini's?”
“Where this started.”
The trap was simple.
Which meant it was dangerous.
Vittorio arrived at midnight.
He sat at the same table.
I poured the wine.
His expression amused me.
“The waitress.”
“The dinosaur.”
Luca coughed.
Vittorio did not smile.
“You have documents?”
Luca placed them down.
Vittorio read.
Then he spoke German.
“You think I don't recognize forged signatures?”
My stomach dropped.
Luca looked at me.
Vittorio smiled.
Then I answered in German.
“You think we came here for signatures?”
His smile disappeared.
The restaurant lights came on.
Federal agents entered.
Vittorio stood.
Then stopped.
Matteo appeared behind him.
“It's over.”
Vittorio looked at his sons.
“No.”
He grabbed me.
A knife pressed against my throat.
Luca's gun appeared.
“Let her go.”
“Drop it.”
“Father.”
“Drop it!”
Luca did.
The gun hit the floor.
Vittorio dragged me toward the kitchen.
I could feel the knife.
Warm blood touched my neck.
Then I remembered the wine.
The bottle still in my hand.
I swung backward.
Glass shattered against Vittorio's face.
He screamed.
I dropped.
Luca crossed the room.
He hit his father once.
Vittorio fell.
Agents surrounded him.
This time, they chained his wrists and ankles.
As they carried him away, he looked at Luca.
“You'll become me.”
Luca stood beside me.
“No.”
May you like
He took my hand.
“That's the difference.”
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