“Get up, Matteo.”The voice cut through the ringing in his ears like a blade. Matteo blinked against the smoke and dust. His head throbbed, the floor beneath him slick with blood and ash. Through the haze, Luca’s silhouette loomed calm, confident, the same face he’d seen in mirrors and nightmares.Matteo pushed himself up slowly. “You finally decided to stop hiding behind ghosts.”Luca smiled faintly. “I learned from the best.”He walked closer, the fire behind him casting a hellish glow across his face. “You know what I realized while you were burning this city down? You never wanted to save it. You just wanted to own it.”Matteo wiped blood from his mouth. “Ownership and salvation are the same thing here.”“Not anymore,” Luca said. “The people see me now. They hear my voice when the church bells ring. I’m the resurrection you failed to become.”Matteo’s tone was calm, but his hand twitched toward the gun hidden in his coat. “And what do you preach in your new gospel?”Luca’s grin wi

“Your hands are still shaking.”Sofia’s voice cut through the sound of rain hitting the safe house windows. Matteo sat hunched over the table, blood drying along his knuckles, the medallion from his father gleaming beside an untouched glass of whiskey.He didn’t look up. “It’s just the storm.”“It’s not the storm,” she said. “It’s the fire still burning in you.”Matteo gave a small, humorless smile. “Then maybe it’s keeping me alive.”Sofia crossed her arms, studying him. “No. It’s what’s killing you.”Matteo finally looked at her. His eyes were distant, colder than the rain outside. “You still think there’s something left to save.”“There is,” she whispered. “But you keep setting it on fire.”Before he could answer, Enzo stepped into the room, wet from the downpour. “You both need to see this.”He dropped a newspaper on the table. The headline screamed across the page:“LUCA ROSSI — THE SAVIOR OF NAPLES.”Matteo stared at it in silence. The photo showed Luca standing in front of a cr

“On my left,” Enzo said. “Two, maybe three.”“Count four,” Matteo answered. “Short bursts, then move.”“You are surrounded,” Luca’s voice floated from the ceiling speakers. “Lay down your weapons and you will be treated with mercy.”Sofia tightened her grip on Matteo’s wrist. “Your mercy looks like a locked door.”“Mercy looks like a second chance,” Luca replied. “You brought none to Naples.”“Lights,” Matteo said.Enzo snapped a glow stick and threw it down the corridor. Boots rushed the decoy. Muzzles flared. Matteo and Enzo answered with clipped fire. Two silhouettes dropped. A third folded into a cart.“Right side,” Sofia warned. “Door moving.”Matteo fired through the glass. An alarm wailed, hungry.“Eden does not judge,” Luca said softly. “Eden only harvests.”“Wrong season,” Enzo muttered.They slid to the corner at a crouch. A red thread cut the hallway at ankle height.“Stop,” Sofia breathed. “Trip laser.”She angled a pocket mirror, found the projector, slid a scalpel under

“Buy a ticket or step off my ramp.”The deckhand barely glanced up. Rain ticked his cap. The ferry rumbled like an animal in a cage.Luca held a boarding pass. “Paid in full.”Matteo looked through the truck window. “He is not riding with us.”Sofia kept her tone flat. “Then we end it here.”Enzo checked mirrors. “Three vans behind, two bikes. Clerics on the left. If we stall, they box us.”Luca came to the passenger door. “Let the sick ride. Let the brothers talk.”Sofia cracked the window. “Talk then.”“You cannot outrun a tide,” Luca said. “It waits at the next shore.”Matteo opened the door and stepped to the wet deck. “You followed the wrong tide.”“I followed blood,” Luca answered.The deckhand waved. “Truck, lane two. Passenger inspects.”Enzo rolled. Matteo walked beside. Luca paced like a familiar shadow.“Tell your priest to stop being brave,” Luca said. “Good men drown.”“Rinaldi bought minutes,” Matteo replied. “Sometimes minutes are the world.”“Sometimes minutes are debt