The rain dripped in slow, deliberate taps against the rooftop of the black sedan as Loreley sat in the driver's seat, engine off, eyes locked on the dimly lit alley ahead.
She shouldn't have followed Luka. It was reckless, unnecessary. A move born out of instinct rather than calculation.
And yet, here she was. Watching. Waiting.
Luka had left the estate in a hurry after dinner, his body language screaming unease.
She had seen it in the way he barely looked her in the eye, how his fingers twitched against the table when their father spoke, how his throat bobbed when Zayden's name was mentioned.
Loreley had learned to read fear a long time ago. And Luka was afraid.
She gripped the steering wheel tighter, pressing herself further into the shadows of the parked car.
Ahead of her, Luka stood in the alley, pacing beneath a flickering streetlamp. He checked his watch, shifting from foot to foot.
Then, finally, she arrived.
Brooks Bellini.
Loreley inhaled sharply, the air in the car suddenly feeling too thick.
Brooks was dressed impeccably as always, her designer coat shielding her from the rain, her golden hair pulled into a sleek bun.
She moved with purpose, with confidence, as if she had nothing to fear in this world.
Luka, on the other hand, looked anything but confident. The exchange happened quickly—too quickly.
A slim envelope was passed from Luka to Brooks. In return, she handed him a black leather pouch, its contents unknown.
Then, Brooks spoke.
Loreley couldn't hear the words, but she could see the sharpness in Brooks' expression, the way Luka's shoulders tensed, the way his jaw locked.
This wasn't a simple deal. This was something else.
Brooks reached out, gripping Luka's wrist, saying something low and urgent. Luka nodded once, stuffing the pouch into his jacket before stepping back.
Then, without another word, Brooks turned on her heel and disappeared into the night.
Loreley's heart pounded against her ribs. Her brother was hiding something.
And it had everything to do with Brooks.
She tailed Luka back toward the estate, her mind racing. There were too many questions.
What had he given her? What was in that pouch? And why was he taking orders from Brooks Bellini of all people?
She needed answers. But she wouldn't get them from Luka. Not yet.
Loreley turned the wheel, making a sharp left onto a quieter road. She needed time to think.
Then a sleek black car pulled up beside her, moving in perfect sync with her own.
Her fingers flexed over the gear shift, pulse spiking. A tinted window rolled down.
And a voice—smooth, confident—spoke from the darkness.
"You're a long way from home, cara."
Loreley didn't slow down. Her grip on the wheel remained steady as she cast a sideways glance at the man inside the car.
He was older than she expected—mid-forties, perhaps—dressed in a tailored suit that screamed wealth, power, danger. His dark eyes studied her like a puzzle waiting to be solved.
"Do I know you?" she asked, her voice carefully indifferent.
The man smirked. "Not yet."
Loreley sighed, feigning boredom. "Then stop wasting my time."
"You don't take any crap," the man chuckled, clearly amused. "A real Mafia Queen."
"So it's true what they say about you," he added with a grin.
The car swerved slightly, keeping pace with hers.
"I've been watching you, Loreley the eldest daughter of Moretti," he continued. "Or should I say, Cattaneo?"
Her fingers twitched, but she kept her expression neutral. "And who exactly is watching me?"
The man tilted his head. "Victor Solano."
The name sent a pulse of recognition through her.
Victor Solano was a ghost in the underworld. A man with no clear allegiances, no traceable past, and no confirmed enemies.
And yet, everyone feared him. Because Victor Solano was not a man. He was a calculation.
Precise. Unpredictable. Deadly.
Loreley exhaled slowly. "Well, Victor," she said, finally allowing herself a small smirk. "Should I be flattered or concerned?"
His eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "A little of both."
The black sedan inched closer.
"Would you care for a ride?" Victor asked.
Loreley hesitated.
She could feel the weight of the moment pressing against her, the fork in the road she was about to take.
She should say no. She should drive away, pretend this conversation never happened.
And yet Victor Solano was not a man who approached people lightly.
Which meant he wanted something. And Loreley had never been one to ignore opportunity.
She flicked on her turn signal, slowing her car before pulling over.
Victor's smirk widened as she stepped out into the rain, slipping into the passenger seat of his car without hesitation.
The door shut with a quiet click. For a few moments, neither of them spoke.
Then, Victor exhaled, shifting slightly in his seat. "You interest me, Loreley," he said finally.
She arched her brow. "That's not an answer."
Victor chuckled. "No, but it's the truth."
Loreley crossed her legs, her voice smooth. "So tell me, Victor. What exactly do you want?"
His smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more serious. "I have a certain... fascination with the downfall of the Xandros empire," he said, a dark glint in his eyes.
Loreley's breath stilled. For a split second, she let her mask slip, letting him see the flicker of something dangerous in her eyes.
Then, slowly, deliberately, she smiled. "Well then," she murmured, tilting her head. "Now you really have my attention."