Chapter 5 THE ENEMYS' BLOOD

005

The storm hadn't let up.

Waves battered the coast beneath Lucien's cliffside villa, and the wind howled through the crevices like an omen. Inside, the fire crackled, but Alessia felt no warmth. Not after what she'd just uncovered.

Her real father.

Not Vittorio Romano-the man who raised her with iron fists and poisonous promises-but someone else. Someone her mother had loved in secret.

A Moreau.

"It doesn't make sense," she murmured, clutching the photograph. "If this is true... then I'm not even a true Romano."

Lucien stood across the room, fists clenched at his sides. "It makes too much sense. It's why Vittorio hates you. Why he never saw you as an heir-only a pawn."

Alessia's pulse quickened. "That means I'm your family's blood."

Lucien turned to her, expression unreadable.

"Not family," he said tightly. "But close enough to shatter everything."

---

Lucien's words hung in the air like smoke.

Not family. But close enough to shatter everything.

Alessia's thoughts spun. The Moreaus and the Romanos had waged a cold war for decades. A marriage between them was scandalous. A child born of their bloodline? Dangerous. Unthinkable.

"Does your family know?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Lucien turned away, his jaw clenched. "No. And they can't. Not yet."

"You think they'll hate me?"

"I think they'll see you as the crack in our foundation."

She stood, the blanket falling from her shoulders. "Then we tell them. We fight this with truth, not more lies."

He didn't answer at first. Then, he turned to her with eyes sharp as obsidian.

"There's something you need to see."

---

He led her to a concealed room at the back of the villa-a narrow staircase wound downward, ending in an underground war room lit with dim fluorescents.

On the center table sat a map marked with locations across Europe - warehouses, ports, private airstrips - all under the control of either the Romanos or the Moreaus.

Nico stood waiting.

When he saw Alessia, he straightened. "We just intercepted a transmission from the Romano camp."

Lucien handed Alessia a headset.

The voice was unmistakable.

Vittorio.

"Kill her quietly. Make it look like an accident. No more mistakes. If Marco won't finish the job, I will."

The words sliced through her like a blade.

Nico cut the feed. "Your father put a bounty on you. But it's not just about you anymore."

He handed her a document-a classified shipment order.

She scanned it, heart plummeting.

Explosives. Hidden in a relief convoy. Bound for a diplomatic event in Monaco.

"They're planning a massacre," Lucien said grimly. "And they'll frame it on the Moreaus."

Alessia staggered back.

"My father's trying to start a war."

Lucien nodded. "Unless we stop him first."

---

They didn't sleep that night. Plans were drawn, allies contacted. Lucien reached out to a trusted contact in Interpol-an old flame named Celeste who owed him a favor.

But trust was fragile.

Especially when Celeste arrived the next morning and Alessia saw the lingering looks between her and Lucien.

"You didn't say she was this involved," Celeste said coolly.

"She's not just involved," Lucien replied, wrapping a protective arm around Alessia. "She's the reason we're still alive."

Celeste's gaze narrowed. "Then I hope you're prepared to lose her."

---