Luciano exhaled slowly, and his eyes turned colder — sharp as steel.
“If you don’t want a war,” Nicolas growled, hatred burning through him, “then die, Remus.”
“If what you want is a war,” Luciano replied quietly, dangerously, “then you’ll have it. But know this, Bellucci—I’m not the one who falls first.”
The wolves around the motorcycles tensed, muscles coiled, ready to strike.
Luciano clenched his fists, the instinct of an alpha awakening inside him.
“You’re alone,” Nico smirked. “There are six of us.”
Luciano held his gaze with icy calm, as if time itself slowed. His voice came out steady, unmovable.
“You’re wrong if you think this will be easy. Tonight you’ll learn what it means to face a real alpha.”
The moment shattered.
Engines roared. Wolves snarled.
Palazzo Venezia’s qui
