The Line of fire
1285 Words
Celina’s POV
The nightmares came early that night.
Not like the usual ones, where Papa's blood soaked the tile and I woke up gasping for breath. No, this one was worse. It was quieter. More deliberate. In the dream, I was sitting across from Luca Sionelli at the dinner table just the two of us. Candlelight. Crystal. Wine I didn't ask for. And in his hand, he held a spoon, feeding me something sweet. It tasted like ash.
I woke up with my fists squeezed in the material sheets.
The worst part? I wasn't scared. I was hungry. That dream hadn't been a warning. It was a promise.
I got out of bed and crossed the room barefoot, pausing by the window. The estate grounds were dark , almost too quiet for a place crawling with armed men and secrets. I thought about Nora. Her last message had come in two hours ago.
Found something. But you're not gonna like it.
That's it. No follow up. No files. No irony.
Nora never kept her mouth shut unless it was bad.
I checked my burner again. Still nothing. My belly twisted. She always followed up. Always. I stared out at the black view and wondered if I'd dragged her too far into this. If my need for revenge had already begun to cost me things I couldn't replace.
I heard the knock on my door just before the lock clicked open.
Not a servant. Not security.
Only one person in this house walked in without permission.
Luca's POV
He didn't say a word. Just stepped inside, like he owned the air. His eyes were darker tonight - storm gray instead of silver. His jacket was still on, collar popped against the wind. I didn't move. Neither did he.
You shouldn't be here,I said.
He raised an eyebrow. You said you wanted me to make you ready.
That was a mistake.
He walked closer. You sure?
I'm not weak, I said, chin high.
I know.
I'm not scared of you.
Then you're a fool.
I didn't back down. Maybe. But fools don't die quietly.
He stared at me for a long moment. And then he said something I wasn't expecting.
Nora's been compromised.
My blood ran cold.
What?
He handed me a small USB. Coded . One of my people caught it. Whoever got to her, they were good. She still managed to send this.
I grabbed it from him, my fingers shaking. When?
This morning.
And you’re just telling me now?
Because I needed to know whether you'd run or retaliate.
My jaw locked. You don't test me, Luca.
Too late.
The USB felt heavier than it should've. I moved past him to my laptop, plugged it in, and waited.
The screen flickered.
One file.
A grainy black and white image loaded.
It was a photo.
Of me.
But not recent.
Not from this life.
I was twelve. In a white dress. Holding Papa's hand in front of the old Moretti compound in Palermo. The kind of photo only someone close would have. Someone who knew my past... and wanted to expose it.
What the hell is this? I asked.
But Luca already knew.
That photo was sent to Victor this morning. Along with your real name.
My chest tightened.
If Victor knew who I really was if he tied me to Riccardo Moretti then everything I'd worked for would come crashing down. No more second chances. No more spying. No more revenge. Just a bullet between my eyes.
We're burned, I whispered.
No, Luca said, voice low. You are.
I turned to face him, and for the first time, I saw something real behind his look. Not pity. Not control.
A choice.
He was making one.
Then kill me, I said. Because if you let me live, I'll burn down the whole f*****g house before I let Victor win.
His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile.
You always go for fire.
Because it works.
We stood there, breathing in the quiet danger. And then he turned and walked out.
No promises.
No deals.
Just silence.
And that was worse.
Luca’s POV
Frankie was waiting for me downstairs, a file in hand and a look that said he knew too much.
So, he said, falling into step beside me. You gonna tell me why you look like you've been sucker punched by a ghost?
I ignored him.
“Right. Classic Luca. Emotionally backed up as always.”
“What did you find?” I asked.
He flipped open the file and showed me a blurry CCTV still. Celina. In a nightclub. Two weeks before she “accidentally” crossed paths with me.
She was watching you before you even knew her name, Frankie said.
I stared at the image.
Victor's seen this?
Not yet. We captured it. But we won't be the only ones digging much longer.
I closed the file.
“She's not ready.”
“She's dangerous,” he countered. “And not just to you.”
That was the point, wasn't it?
The thing that had been bothering me since day one.
Celina wasn't scared of this world.
She wanted it to fear her.
Celina’s POV
I didn't sleep again. Couldn't. My head kept replaying Nora's silence, the photo, the threat beneath Luca's eyes. I didn't know if I could trust him, but I did know something else someone else was pulling strings.
At dawn, I slipped into Madam Rosa's lounge. She was already waiting, like she knew I'd come. Her place was always warm, velvet draped and humming with perfume and secrets.
You've come for a story, she said, sipping from glass shaped like a swan.
I need answers.
She tapped the table. Then ask the right question.
Who knows who I really am?
She smiled. “That’s not the right question.”
I slammed my palm on the table. Then what the hell is?
She didn't start. Just leaned forward.
The better question, dear, she whispered, is who wants you to know they know.
I froze.
Because she was right.
Whoever sent that photo didn't want me dead.
Not yet.
They wanted me rattled.
They wanted me watching every shadow, every whisper, every mirror.
Because that's how you break a person. Not with bullets.
With doubt.
Luca’s POV
By mid-afternoon, the estate felt tighter. Like the walls were listening. Gianni was pacing, upset. Victor was unusually quiet. Too quiet.
Frankie came into my office with a list of names potential leaks, moles, spies.
You think Celina gave herself away? he asked.
I shook my head. No. Someone wants her exposed. But not killed.
Frankie leaned against the desk. Then who?
I didn't have the answer.
But I knew where to start.
Celina’s POV
Nora's phone buzzed at midnight.
A message.
No sender.
You're not alone. Dig deeper.
That's all it said.
But it was enough.
Because Nora was still alive.
And someone maybe more than one person was playing a longer game.
So I opened my laptop, pulled up every file I had access to, and began cross referencing every name I could find linked to Victor, to my father, to Luca.
I didn't sleep. I didn't eat.
I just searched.
Until I found something.
A name I hadn't seen in years.
Salvatore Valente.
An old family contact. Supposedly dead. But recently paid under a new identity by someone in the Sionelli family.
I stared at the screen.
And for the first time since I'd arrived, I realized something chilling.
This wasn't just about revenge.
This was about survival.
Mine.
Luca's.
Nora's.
Maybe even the entire family.
Because something was coming.
And we were all in the line of fire.
- Writer
