The following day, Marco had agreed to have a meeting with Valeria. She said she’s got news that he needed to hear. Valeria stood in front of his desk, arms crossed, her emerald-green eyes locked onto him with an intensity that made his skin crawl.
“They’re coming back, Marco,” she said, her voice steady but grim.
Marco sat back in his chair, his jaw tightening. “Who?”
Valeria exhaled, stepping closer. “Your old enemies. The ones you thought were finished.”
Marco’s fingers tapped slowly against the polished wood of his desk. “Be specific, Valeria. And stop wasting my time,” he said, his tone low and dangerous.
She reached into her coat pocket, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper. She placed it in front of him.
“Recognize any of these names?”
Marco unfolded it, his eyes scanning the list. His stomach twisted. He did recognize them.
The Moretti family. They had been allies once—until Marco personally took down their leader. The Salvatore cartel. Ruthless drug lords he had driven out of the city years ago.
The DeLuca syndicate. A group that had once controlled half of the underground trade—until Marco burned their empire to the ground.
They were supposed to be gone. Destroyed. But now—they were back. Marco’s grip on the paper tightened. “This is impossible,” he muttered. “They were wiped out.”
Valeria smirked, but it wasn’t amusement—it was something darker. “That’s what you thought,” she said. “But Marco… revenge has a way of bringing people back from the dead.”
Marco leaned forward, his eyes dark and calculating. “How do you know all of this?”
“Because I’ve been watching them,” she admitted. “After I disappeared, I kept my ears to the ground. I knew they’d come for you eventually. And now?” She gestured to the paper. “They’re making their move.”
Marco’s chest tightened. Someone had been feeding them information. Someone inside his circle. Someone close.
His mind immediately went to his trusted men—his inner circle, his business partners, his security team.
And then—
His thoughts drifted somewhere else. To the nanny. His fingers tapped against the desk again. “Who’s leaking information?” he asked. Valeria shook her head. “I don’t know yet. But you need to figure it out before it’s too late.”
Marco exhaled sharply, folding the paper and tucking it into his pocket. His enemies weren’t just back. They were stronger than ever. And someone inside his home was helping them.
***
Carmen tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. Dinner felt different lately. The table was silent, except for the quiet clinking of silverware against plates. Marco had barely spoken since returning from his office with Valeria. His mind was somewhere else, lost in whatever storm was brewing inside him. But what bothered Carmen the most—
Was Matteo. He was ignoring them. His little body was pressed against Ella’s side, his small hands holding onto hers like she was the only person in the room who mattered.
“Matteo, sweetheart,” Carmen said softly. “Why don’t you sit by Mama tonight?”
Matteo barely looked up. “I wanna sit with Nanny,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.
Carmen’s chest tightened. “You always sit next to me,” she tried again, forcing a smile.
Matteo shook his head. “Nanny tells the best stories.”
Ella chuckled, her tone soft, motherly. “Oh, Matteo, you flatter me.”
Marco looked up from his plate, his eyes watching the scene carefully. Carmen met his gaze, and for the first time in a while, they were thinking the same thing.
Something was wrong. “Ella,” Marco said, his voice casual but firm. “Can you tell us where you worked before us?”
Ella dabbed her lips with a napkin before answering. “Oh here and there,” she said smoothly. “I supposed Mr. Luca did a background check on me. I’ve worked for several families. But I must say, Matteo is one of the most special children I’ve cared for.”
Carmen forced a tight smile, but she couldn’t shake the unease curling in her stomach. Matteo barely touched his food. But every time Ella moved, he mimicked her—like he was waiting for her approval.
Carmen shot a glance at Marco, silently asking for his help. But his attention was glued to his phone. An hour later, Marco stood up when his phone buzzed violently and Luca’s name flashed across the screen.
“Tell me it’s good news,” Marco said as he answered.
“It’s not,” Luca’s voice was grim, tense. “We lost the shipment.”
Marco went still. “What do you mean, we lost it?”
“I mean someone intercepted it before it got to the docks. The whole damn thing is gone.”
A cold, murderous silence filled the room. That shipment had been worth millions. It wasn’t just a financial hit—it was an act of war.