The meeting stretched late into the night, every minute thick with tension. Aria didn't understand every coded phrase or Italian dialect spoken between Dante's men, but she understood enough:
War was coming.
Quiet, invisible, but deadly.
And she was now inside the epicenter of it.
Dante dismissed the final report with a short gesture. The men began to gather their files, steel-faced and efficient. One by one, they nodded respectfully toward Aria before leaving the strategy room.
Only when the last door shut did Dante finally speak.
"You did well."
She blinked. "I just… sat there."
"No." His eyes narrowed with something like pride. "You didn't flinch. You didn't panic. My men respect strength. Tonight, they saw it."
Heat curled low in her chest, unexpected and warm. But Dante wasn't finished.
"They also saw I trust you enough to bring you into the one place no one outside the family ever enters."
"Was that dangerous?" she asked softly.
He gave a humorless laugh. "Everything is dangerous."
Aria stepped closer to him. "I meant… for you."
His jaw tightened. "Yes."
Their eyes locked, tension sparking between them like electricity.
But then...
A sharp knock at the door.
Dante turned instantly. "Avanti."
Nico stepped inside, breath slightly uneven, rare for him. "Boss. There's something outside you need to see."
Dante's hand went to the back of his waistband. Instinct. Not dramatics.
"Aria," he said without looking at her, "stay behind me."
She obeyed. Not because he commanded it...
but because the air had shifted.
Something was wrong.
They moved quickly: out of the war room, down the hallway, through the wide glass doors leading into the courtyard. Cold wind slapped her skin as night deepened around them.
Nico pointed toward the main gate.
At first, she saw nothing.
Then the floodlights flickered, just once...
and something metallic glinted at the base of the gate.
A small, perfectly tied black ribbon.
Attached to a bullet.
Aria's blood went cold.
Dante's entire body shifted in an instant, a dangerous stillness settling over him. He walked toward it, Nico and two guards trailing behind him.
Aria followed slower, dread coiling inside her.
When Dante reached the gate, he crouched, staring at the object with terrifying calm.
A single bullet.
Wrapped neatly with a ribbon like a present.
Or a claim.
Or a threat.
Nico swore under his breath. "They got past two patrol points. That's impossible."
"They didn't get past," Dante murmured. "They wanted to be seen. They wanted this found."
Aria swallowed. "What does it mean?"
Dante didn't answer immediately. He stood, holding the bullet between two fingers as if analyzing a relic from the past.
Then he cursed quietly in Italian.
"Nero di Sangue."
Nico stiffened. "You think this was him?"
"No one else uses this calling card." Dante turned, silver eyes darker than she had ever seen them. "He's returned."
The name meant nothing to Aria, but the reaction it caused did.
Dante's men exchanged looks that were part fear, part rage.
"Who is Nero di Sangue?" she whispered.
Dante looked at her, and something cold moved across his expression.
"The man who killed my mother."
The world tilted.
Before she could speak, he continued. "And the same man who ordered your assassination."
Her knees almost buckled.
The threat wasn't random.
It wasn't incidental.
It wasn't simply to hurt Dante.
It was tied to something deeper. Older. Deadlier.
Aria stepped closer, voice barely steady. "Why? Why would he target me?"
Dante's gaze softened, not in warmth, but in warning.
"Because you matter to me."
Those words hit her harder than the cold wind.
"But I just met you," she whispered.
"Enemies don't care about time," he said softly. "They care about leverage."
Her pulse thudded painfully.
Dante handed the bullet to Nico. "Double the perimeter. Full blackout protocol. No one enters or leaves without my authorization."
"Yes, Boss."
Guards sprang into motion, barking orders, adjusting comms, tightening security.
Aria stared at the ribboned bullet, now in Nico's hand. It seemed so small. So delicate.
Yet it meant death.
A message carved in steel.
Dante turned back to her. "We're going inside."
"But..."
"No." His voice cracked like a whip, sharp but not cruel. "I won't discuss this out here."
He placed a firm hand at her back and guided her toward the estate. Guards formed a protective triangle around them.
As soon as the doors shut behind them, Dante gripped her shoulders gently but with undeniable force.
"I need you to listen to me."
Aria nodded numbly.
His voice dropped lower. "Today was a warning. Tomorrow, he will act."
Her breath hitched. "Against you?"
"Against anything he thinks I value."
She felt the implication hit her like a blow.
"Aria." He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing lightly over her skin, rare, tender. "I will protect you. But this changes how we move. How you move."
His forehead nearly grazed hers as he continued.
"You do not go anywhere alone. Not the garden. Not the hallways. Not the damn bathroom without a guard outside the door. You do not open windows. You do not answer unknown calls. You do not touch anything left at your door."
Her throat tightened. He sounded like a man giving instructions to hold back a storm.
"And Aria," he added softly, "you sleep in my room until we neutralize the threat."
Her breath caught. "Is that… necessary?"
"Absolutely."
No hesitation. No apology.
"This man is not predictable. He is not merciful. And he is not finished."
He stepped closer, voice barely above a whisper.
"You're in my world now. This is the first blow in a silent war. And I will not lose you."
The rawness in his voice nearly undid her.
She nodded. Slowly.
Then firmer.
"Okay."
Something in him eased, just slightly.
But the darkness in his eyes did not fade.
"Good." He took her hand. "Because tonight is only the beginning."
And as he led her deeper into the mansion, toward his private wing, Aria realized something terrifyingly clear:
She had stepped willingly into the Devil's world.
And now the Devil's enemies wanted her life.