Chapter 4 BLACK WOLF

Chapter Four: The Black Wolf

The penthouse was quiet. Too quiet.

Luciano stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out over Manhattan as if the city owed him answers. Below, the skyline glittered like a false promise. The streets were alive with people who had no idea that blood soaked the foundations they walked on.

He swirled the scotch in his glass but didn't drink it.

His thoughts were louder than the silence.

> Two booster seats.

Aria's face.

The fear in her eyes when he asked how old they were.

He clenched his jaw, muscles ticking.

She hadn't said it. But she didn't have to.

He knew.

His sons were out there.

His blood. His name. His legacy.

And she'd kept them from him.

That wasn't just betrayal.

That was war.

The elevator chimed behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know it was Marco.

"Boss," Marco said, stepping inside. "You wanted updates."

Luciano nodded once. "Talk."

"Aria Castell. Thirty-one. Former ballet dancer. Quit performing five years ago after a sudden disappearance from the circuit. Worked a string of jobs under different names. No consistent address until four years ago. She's been living under the name Aria Vale in Brooklyn."

"And the kids?" Luca asked, his voice sharp.

Marco cleared his throat. "Neighbors confirm she has twin sons. Both five. No known father. She lists herself as a single parent. School records say Nico and Nino Vale. No birth certificates on file in public databases."

Of course there weren't.

Aria had erased him completely.

He walked to his desk, placed the glass down carefully. Then turned, eyes like storm clouds.

"I want DNA."

Marco hesitated. "That might take-"

"I don't care how long it takes. Get it." His voice was ice. "Discreetly. I want to know before I make a move."

Marco gave a short nod. "Understood."

Luca turned back to the window. "They look like me, don't they?"

Marco didn't answer immediately.

"Yes," he said quietly.

Luca's hands curled into fists behind his back.

"Do you know what she stole from me, Marco?" he asked. "Not money. Not secrets. Not business. She took the one thing I can never replace."

"A future?"

"A legacy," he growled.

He'd spent his entire life building an empire, burying enemies, carving his name into the underworld like it belonged there.

But no one knew what haunted him most.

That he had no heir.

That everything he'd built would one day burn because he had no one to carry it forward.

Until now.

Until them.

---

✦ Brooklyn, midnight

Aria couldn't sleep.

She sat in the dark, curled on the living room couch in an oversized sweater, staring at the half-finished drawing Nico had taped to the wall earlier that day.

It was a wolf.

Black fur. Red eyes. Standing in front of two smaller wolves.

She didn't ask him about it.

She didn't need to.

She knew what it meant.

Luca's blood ran too deep.

Even if she'd hidden him in name, he lived inside her boys in a hundred unspoken ways.

Nico was always watchful.

Nino was always listening.

And both had a darkness she couldn't name-just a flicker in their eyes when something didn't feel right.

She pressed her forehead against her knees and exhaled.

How long could she protect them?

A sound.

Soft. Bare feet on tile.

She looked up.

Nico.

His curls were messy from sleep, and he held the black wolf stuffed animal he'd had since he was a baby.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

He nodded, walking over. "I heard you crying."

She hadn't realized she was.

He climbed up beside her and curled under her arm like it was the only safe place in the world.

"I had a bad dream," he mumbled.

She kissed the top of his head. "Me too."

They sat in silence.

"Is someone coming?" he asked after a while.

Her heart stilled. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he said, voice small. "It just feels like someone's coming."

She hugged him tighter.

He was too perceptive.

Too much like Luca.

---

✦ The Next Morning

Luciano watched the school from across the street.

The black SUV was parked at an angle that gave him full visibility of the front doors.

Children spilled out in uniforms, backpacks bouncing. Laughter. Shouts. The normal hum of suburban life.

He was a stranger here.

But he couldn't look away.

Then he saw them.

Two boys, walking side by side.

One had his hands stuffed in his pockets, kicking a rock like he was mad at the world. The other walked calmly, holding a drawing rolled in a cardboard tube.

Nico and Nino.

His sons.

There was no denying it now.

Same hair. Same jawline. Same storm-colored eyes.

Luciano swallowed hard.

He didn't feel anger.

He felt something worse.

Longing.

They didn't know he existed. Didn't know their last name should've been De Rossi.

He could see them laughing now, bumping shoulders.

Twins.

He had twins.

His phone buzzed.

Marco.

"What is it?" he asked, still staring.

"DNA test confirmed it. Ninety-nine point nine percent match. They're yours."

Luciano didn't speak for a long moment.

Then: "Get my lawyer. And a family court specialist."

"Boss-"

"I'm not taking them away. I just want the groundwork ready. If she tries to disappear again..."

"You'll make it impossible."

He didn't answer.

He didn't have to.

Because Aria might've run once.

But now?

> He had leverage.

He had blood.

And he had reason.

No one hid his legacy from him and got away with it.

Not even her.