Luca Moretti never screamed when he was truly angry.

That was the first thing Valentina learned after marrying him.

Luca shouted for performance.

For intimidation.

For rooms full of men who needed reminding who held power.

But real rage?

Real rage became quiet.

Deadly quiet.

And by the time the first bodies hit the marble floor of the Moretti estate, Luca had gone completely silent.

The massacre started at 9:14 p.m.

Valentina remembered the exact time because she had been staring at the grandfather clock inside the upstairs hallway when the gunfire erupted below.

One shot.

Then six more immediately afterward.

Not chaotic gunfire.

Execution-style.

Professional.

The estate exploded into screaming seconds later.

Servants ran through the hallways while security alarms blared across the mansion. Somewhere downstairs, glass shattered violently followed by another burst of automatic rifle fire echoing through the marble entrance hall.

Valentina froze beside the staircase.

Her pulse crashed violently against her ribs.

No.

No no no—

A body slammed against the bottom of the staircase below her.

One of Luca’s guards.

Dead before he hit the floor.

Blood spread instantly across white marble beneath crystal chandelier light.

The estate smelled like gunpowder and panic.

“Mrs. Moretti!”

One of the house staff grabbed her arm sharply from the hallway. Elena. Mid-fifties. Terrified.

“You need to move now.”

Another gunshot cracked somewhere close enough to shake the walls.

Valentina snapped back into motion instantly.

“Where’s Luca?”

Elena looked pale. “Downstairs.”

That frightened her more than the gunfire.

Because if Luca remained downstairs willingly—

then he already knew who attacked the estate.

Valentina ran toward the east hallway while security teams stormed through the mansion below. Men shouted in Russian near the front entrance. Another explosion rattled the windows hard enough to shower glass across the dining room.

War.

The Moretti empire had officially become war.

Her phone vibrated violently inside her pocket.

Adrian.

Valentina answered instantly while running.

“Where are you?” His voice sounded sharp, controlled, dangerous.

“At the estate.”

A pause.

Then quietly:

“Fuck.”

Gunfire exploded again downstairs.

Valentina flinched hard as bullets tore through the library doors beneath the staircase.

“Listen to me carefully,” Adrian snapped. “You need to leave immediately.”

“Luca’s here.”

“I know.”

Cold spread instantly through her chest.

“You knew this would happen.”

“I knew retaliation was coming.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No,” Adrian replied tightly. “It’s worse.”

Another scream echoed through the mansion.

Valentina reached the upstairs study and slammed the door shut behind her before lowering her voice.

“What’s happening?”

Adrian’s silence lasted one second too long.

Then finally:

“Luca found the internal leak.”

Her blood turned ice cold.

Roman.

Mikhail.

The compromised operation.

Everything crashing together at once.

“And now?”

“And now he’s cleaning house.”

The words hollowed the air from her lungs.

Cleaning house.

Not panic.

Not revenge.

Systematic elimination.

Because that was how Luca handled betrayal.

Valentina moved toward the study windows carefully and looked down into the courtyard below.

Black SUVs flooded the estate grounds.

Armed men everywhere.

Some Moretti security.

Some not.

Bodies already scattered across the driveway beneath rain-soaked floodlights.

Dear God.

The phone tightened painfully against her ear.

“Adrian.”

“I’m coming for you.”

“No.”

The answer came instantly.

Because suddenly she understood something terrifying.

If Adrian walked into the estate tonight—

Luca would kill him publicly.

Slowly.

“Valentina—”

“Don’t.”

Her voice cracked sharply.

“He wants you.”

“I know.”

Another explosion shook the mansion hard enough to flicker the lights overhead.

Valentina heard shouting outside the study door now.

Male voices.

Approaching fast.

Panic surged violently through her chest.

“They’re upstairs.”

Adrian’s voice sharpened instantly. “Listen to me carefully. The east wing connects to the lower garden through the wine corridor.”

“How do you know that?”

Silence.

Of course he knew.

Three years undercover inside Luca’s empire.

The realization still hurt.

“Valentina,” Adrian said sharply, dragging her back to focus. “Go now.”

The study door rattled violently.

Once.

Twice.

Then gunfire blasted through the lock.

Valentina screamed and dropped instinctively behind the desk as wood exploded across the room.

“They’re here,” she whispered.

The line went terrifyingly quiet for one second.

Then Adrian’s voice returned lower than before.

“Do exactly what I say.”

The door burst open.

Two armed men stormed inside wearing black tactical gear.

Not Luca’s soldiers.

Mercenaries.

Valentina grabbed the decorative bronze statue from the desk and hurled it directly into the first man’s face before he fully cleared the doorway.

Bone cracked loudly.

The second attacker raised his weapon instantly—

Gunfire erupted from the hallway behind them.

Three precise shots.

The mercenary collapsed backward across the carpet.

Another body dropped beside the door seconds later.

Luca stepped into the study calmly through smoke and broken wood.

Perfect black suit.

No panic.

No fear.

Blood splattered lightly across one cuff.

His expression looked horrifyingly composed.

Valentina froze completely.

The phone slipped silently from her hand onto the carpet.

Luca’s eyes dropped briefly toward it.

Then toward her.

Understanding settled instantly across his face.

“Interesting,” he murmured softly.

No.

No no no—

He knew.

Not just about Adrian.

About her too.

Luca closed the study door behind him carefully while gunfire continued raging somewhere deeper inside the mansion.

“You know,” he said quietly, “I really did love you for a while.”

The words nearly made her sick.

Valentina backed away slowly toward the windows. “You murdered women.”

Luca tilted his head slightly. “Some women.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“They betrayed me.”

His voice carried genuine confusion again.

Like betrayal justified anything afterward.

Monster.

No.

Devil.

Because devils still convinced themselves they were righteous.

Luca stepped farther into the room.

Bodies bled quietly near the doorway behind him while smoke drifted through shattered wood and broken glass.

“Do you know what disappoints me most?” he asked softly.

Valentina’s pulse hammered violently now.

“You chose him.”

The words hit like physical force.

Not anger.

Worse.

Wounded ego.

Luca smiled faintly afterward.

Cold smile.

Beautiful smile.

Murderer’s smile.

“He was never going to save you.”

Valentina’s voice shook despite herself. “At least he never pretended to be human.”

Something dangerous flashed behind Luca’s eyes then.

Finally.

Real emotion.

Wrong move.

Luca crossed the room suddenly and grabbed her hard enough to slam her backward against the study wall.

Pain exploded through her shoulder.

“You think he’s different from me?” Luca hissed sharply near her face. “You think men like him survive wars without becoming monsters too?”

Valentina shoved against his chest violently.

“I know exactly what you are.”

Luca laughed once beneath his breath.

“Good.”

Then the mansion lights died completely.

Darkness swallowed the study instantly.

Gunfire erupted downstairs again.

And from somewhere outside the estate grounds—

someone started shooting back.