Chapter 5 Luca's Game

The sound of engines cut through the garden like a blade.

Alina looked up from her book-The Art of War, ironically-and saw three matte-black cars roll into the estate's circular drive. The guards straightened. Tension filled the air like a storm.

Damian, who had been standing near the fountain with a phone to his ear, stiffened. His jaw tensed. His tone dropped an octave.

"He wasn't supposed to arrive until tomorrow," he muttered.

"Who?" Alina asked.

Damian turned to her, voice flat. "My brother."

Before she could respond, the doors to the first car opened.

And out stepped Luca Moretti.

He was everything Damian wasn't-sun-kissed charm, designer sunglasses, and a lopsided grin like the world had already surrendered to him. His suit was dark blue, unbuttoned at the collar. His hair tousled like he didn't care, but every strand was intentional.

And when he saw Alina, he smiled wider.

"Well," he said. "You must be the bride."

Damian stepped in front of her.

"Luca. You're early."

"I missed home," Luca replied, casually tossing his sunglasses into the car. "And I heard our sweet little engagement party was underway. Thought I'd come congratulate my future sister-in-law."

Alina arched a brow. "So you're the charming one?"

Luca gave her a slow, appreciative look. "Among other things."

Damian cut between them. "She's off-limits."

Luca's grin sharpened into something darker. "You've barely put a ring on her, brother. Don't get territorial so fast."

Alina watched the exchange carefully. The tension between the brothers wasn't just sibling rivalry-it was venom layered in years of power struggle and buried resentments.

She tucked that away.

Information was power.

Later that evening, Luca found her in the library.

He leaned against the doorway, watching her scan the shelves.

"Do you actually read," he asked, "or is it just for aesthetic?"

Alina didn't turn. "You don't strike me as the literary type."

He chuckled and stepped inside. "True. I prefer games."

"I'm not interested in playing."

"Oh, but you already are. You just don't realize whose board you're on yet."

She finally looked at him. "Enlighten me."

Luca's eyes sparkled. "You think Damian brought you here to save the family? To tie some old vow together?"

"Isn't that the story?"

He leaned closer, dropping his voice. "That's one version. Here's another: You're leverage. A means to an end. Damian's empire is cracking, and the Cruz name is his last thread of legitimacy. But if that thread breaks-if you vanish, for example-everything he built collapses."

Alina's pulse quickened. "Are you threatening me?"

He smiled. "No. I'm giving you options. I could help you disappear. Tonight. You'd be free."

She narrowed her eyes. "What do you want in return?"

Luca's smile widened. "Nothing now. But someday? Who knows. I'm a man who likes to keep doors open."

Alina stepped back, spine straight. "Thanks for the offer. I'll stay right here-for now."

"Suit yourself," Luca said, turning to leave. "But just know... not everyone in this house is wearing the mask they should."

That night, Alina couldn't sleep.

Her mind spun with Luca's words.

Could she trust Damian? No. But could she trust Luca less? Possibly.

She needed proof-of everything.

Slipping out of bed, she padded barefoot through the hallway. She passed the garden, the east wing, and headed toward Damian's office. It was locked, as expected.

But the door beside it-the archive-wasn't.

Inside were stacks of documents, sealed envelopes, ledgers, and photos. She pulled gloves from her robe pocket and began flipping through files.

Shipping manifests. Wire transfers. Security footage.

Then-a folder labeled: "Cruz - 18 years pending."

She opened it.

Inside were photos of her as a child. With her mother. Her school ID. Her scholarship acceptance letter. Surveillance logs. Every move she'd made for the last two decades.

And at the back... a single sheet with Damian's signature.

A contract. Not a marriage vow. A deal.

If Alina refused the marriage, Damian would take over the Cruz properties by force.

Blood would be spilled.

She staggered back.

Suddenly, the door behind her creaked open.

"Found what you were looking for?" Damian's voice was low. Dangerous.

Alina spun around, the folder still in her hands.

He walked in slowly, eyes on the file.

"I told you I don't lie," he said. "But I never said I told you everything."

Alina's voice shook. "You were planning to kill my family if I said no."

"No," Damian said. "I was planning to protect your family. The contract was insurance. If you vanished, if you were killed-Luca would've moved on your inheritance. This was a backup."

She didn't believe him. Not fully.

"But why follow me for years?" she demanded. "Why watch me like some-"

"Because I needed to be sure you were strong enough for this life," he snapped. "You think I wanted this? I wanted freedom, too. But freedom is not something men like me inherit. We inherit war."

Alina stared at him, fury and confusion clawing at her ribs.

"Then why not run?" she whispered. "Why trap me here?"

His voice softened. "Because when I saw you walk into that medical school... when I watched you save lives... I thought, maybe for once, the blood I carry could bind me to something good."

Silence stretched between them.

Alina lowered the folder.

And walked past him.

Without a word.

Without a scream.

Because the most dangerous thing she could do now... was stay calm.