The Rossi compound felt like a ghost of itself.
Elena stepped out of the SUV and the familiar scent of jasmine from the garden hit her first—sweet, almost mocking in the middle of all this tension. The fountain in the courtyard still bubbled softly, but the guards posted at every corner were new, their faces hard and watchful. Lights blazed in every window like the house itself was afraid of the dark.
Luca stayed right beside her, his hand brushing the small of her back as they walked toward the main entrance. Not possessive. Just there. A silent promise that he wouldn't let her face this alone.
Uncle Marco met them at the top of the steps. His eyes flicked to Luca with open distrust, then settled on Elena with something colder.
"You came," he said flatly. "With him."
"I told you I would." Elena lifted her chin, trying to sound stronger than she felt. "Alexander is coming tonight. We're here to help stop him."
Marco's gaze lingered on Luca's hand near her back. "Help. Right. Or maybe you're just making sure the Morettis finish what they started."
Luca's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice even. "We're not here to fight you, Marco. We're here because Alexander Kane wants every last Rossi and Moretti dead. Including Elena."
Before Marco could snap back, Gianni appeared in the doorway behind him, still looking pale and cuffed at the wrists. Two guards flanked him.
"Elena," Gianni said quietly. "You really think this ghost is coming for us tonight?"
"I know he is." She stepped closer, ignoring the way Marco stiffened. "He has my locket. He was in my room. He wants to make it look like one of us turned. So please… just listen. For once."
Gianni looked down at the ground. "I'm sorry. For everything. I was stupid. Greedy. But I never wanted this."
Marco made a disgusted sound. "Save the apologies. We lock down. No one moves without my say. And you—" he pointed at Luca "—stay where my men can see you. I don't trust you in my house."
Luca nodded once, no argument. Elena could feel the tension rolling off him in waves—the fear he'd confessed to her, the old instincts screaming to protect her. But he stayed quiet for her sake.
They moved inside.
The study door was closed. Elena couldn't bring herself to open it. The blood was gone now, but she could still see it in her mind—dark and sticky on the green felt, her father's hand limp over the edge of the desk.
Luca noticed. He guided her gently away from the study and toward the smaller sitting room instead. "We wait here. Together."
Hours crawled by.
They sat on the old leather couch, shoulders touching. Sofia had joined them, tapping away on her laptop, monitoring feeds. Dante stood by the window like a shadow. Marco paced the hallway outside, barking orders at his men.
Every creak of the old house made Elena jump.
At one point Luca reached over and took her hand. His palm was warm, a little sweaty. He didn't say anything at first—just held on like it was the only thing keeping him steady.
"I hate this," he whispered after a while. "Being back here. In the place where it all started for us… and where it almost ended for your father. It feels like the past is swallowing us whole."
Elena squeezed his hand. "I keep remembering the good parts. Sneaking out to meet you. The way you used to make me laugh until I couldn't breathe. How you promised we'd find a way out someday. I want that promise back, Luca. Even if it's ugly and scary now."
He turned his head to look at her. In the low lamplight his eyes were soft, the fear still there but mixed with something deeper.
"I want it too," he said. "More than anything. But right now all I can think about is keeping you alive long enough to have a chance at it."
A sudden shout from outside shattered the quiet.
"Movement at the east wall!"
Chaos erupted.
Marco's voice boomed through the house. "Positions! Now!"
Luca was on his feet in an instant, pulling Elena up with him. His hand never left hers as they moved toward the hallway. Gunshots cracked in the distance—sharp, angry.
"Stay behind me," Luca ordered, voice tight. The boss mask was slipping back on, but she could see the fear underneath it.
They reached the main hall just as glass shattered somewhere upstairs. Men were shouting. Boots thundered on marble.
Then Alexander's voice—amplified, coming from outside the compound walls.
"Rossi! Moretti! Come out and play. The circle ends tonight!"
Elena's blood ran cold.
Luca pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist as they crouched near a heavy oak cabinet. His breathing was fast and shallow.
"I've got you," he whispered against her hair. "I've got you."
More gunfire. Closer now.
One of Marco's men ran past, bleeding from the shoulder. "They're inside the garden! At least six of them!"
Luca cursed under his breath. His free hand went to the gun at his hip, but he didn't draw it yet. Instead he looked at Elena, eyes wild with that raw fear he only showed her.
"If it goes bad," he said quickly, "you run to the safe room in the basement. Promise me."
"I'm not leaving you," she shot back, her own voice shaking.
"Elena—"
A window exploded nearby. Shouts turned to screams.
Luca yanked her down lower, covering her body with his as glass rained around them. His heart hammered against her back—so hard she could feel every beat.
"I'm scared," he admitted in her ear, voice breaking. "I'm so fucking scared right now. But I'm not letting him take you. Not tonight. Not ever."
Elena twisted in his arms just enough to press her forehead to his. Their noses brushed. Glass crunched under their knees.
"Then don't let go," she whispered. "Scared together. Remember?"
He nodded, a tiny, desperate movement.
Outside, the fighting grew louder. Marco was yelling orders. Sofia's voice came through the earpiece, frantic.
"They're pushing toward the study! Elena, Luca—get to the back stairs!"
Luca pulled Elena to her feet. They ran low through the hallway, hands still clasped tight. Every shadow looked like Alexander. Every gunshot made her flinch.
They reached the back stairs just as another window shattered behind them.
Luca pushed her ahead of him, shielding her with his body as they climbed.
Halfway up, he stumbled.
Elena turned fast. "Luca!"
"I'm fine," he gasped, but there was blood on his sleeve now—a graze from a bullet that had come too close.
Her heart lurched.
They made it to the second floor landing. Luca leaned against the wall for a second, breathing hard, eyes locked on her.
"You're bleeding," she said, voice cracking.
"It's nothing." He reached out and cupped her cheek with his good hand. His thumb brushed her skin, trembling slightly. "As long as you're okay, it's nothing."
Gunfire echoed from below again.
Elena pressed her hand over his on her cheek. "We keep going. Together."
Luca nodded. Fear and love and determination all tangled in his eyes.
They moved forward into the dark hallway, hands still linked, hearts pounding in sync.
Alexander Kane was somewhere in the house.
The night was far from over.
But for the first time, Elena wasn't facing it alone.
And neither was Luca.