The calm before the real storm lasted exactly four more days.
On the fifth night, Calderone Tower became a fortress under siege once again.
It started with a power outage that plunged half the building into darkness. Emergency generators kicked in seconds later, bathing the corridors in harsh red emergency lighting. Alarms screamed through every level. Liora was in the master bedroom when the first explosion rocked the lower floors — this one much closer and more powerful than the previous attack.
She bolted upright in bed, heart slamming against her ribs. Vittorio was already moving, pulling on a black tactical shirt and grabbing the gun from the nightstand.
"Stay here," he ordered, voice sharp and commanding. "Lock the door behind me. Do not open it for anyone but me or Marco."
Liora grabbed his arm before he could leave. "Vittorio — it's them, isn't it? The Sicilians."
His steel-gray eyes met hers, burning with fury and that dark, unrelenting obsession. "Yes. They brought everything this time. But they won't reach you. I swear it."
He kissed her hard — a bruising, claiming kiss that tasted of gunpowder and promise — then strode out. The door locked behind him with a heavy click.
Liora was left alone in the dim red glow of the emergency lights. She paced the bedroom, hands shaking. Gunfire erupted below — louder, more sustained than before. Explosions followed. The entire tower shook. She could hear shouts, screams, and the relentless crack of automatic weapons.
She pressed her ear to the door, listening. Maria's voice came faintly from the living area, speaking urgently into a radio.
"Signorina, stay inside!" Maria called through the door. "Don Calderone has the situation under control."
But Liora knew better. This attack felt different. Heavier. More desperate.
Her mind raced to Luca. He was still in the basement. If the Sicilians reached him, they would try to free him. And if Vittorio's men found him fighting alongside them…
She couldn't just wait.
Heart pounding, Liora grabbed a small knife from the bedside drawer — one Vittorio had left there after cleaning his weapons — and slipped it into the pocket of her robe. She unlocked the bedroom door and stepped into the living area.
Maria's eyes widened in panic. "Signorina, no! You must stay—"
The elevator dinged.
Two Calderone guards stepped out, faces grim and bloodied. "We have orders to move you to the panic room on this floor. The lower levels are compromised. They're pushing hard toward the basement."
Liora's stomach dropped. "Luca—"
One of the guards grabbed her arm gently but firmly. "We have to go now."
They hurried her down a hidden corridor to a reinforced panic room at the end of the penthouse level. It was small but luxurious — reinforced walls, independent air and power, a cot, supplies, and monitors showing camera feeds from every floor.
The guards locked her inside with Maria.
Liora rushed to the monitors. The feeds showed pure chaos.
On the lower levels, Sicilian attackers in black tactical gear were clashing with Vittorio's men in brutal close-quarters combat. Bodies littered the hallways. Smoke filled the air. And in the basement cell block, Luca had somehow gotten free — or been freed. He was fighting alongside three Sicilian survivors, trying to push toward an emergency exit.
Vittorio appeared on one of the feeds, moving like death itself. He fired with deadly precision, dropping two attackers before advancing on the basement corridor. His face was a mask of cold rage.
Liora's hand flew to her mouth. "No… please don't…"
She watched in horror as Vittorio reached the basement. Luca turned and fired at him. Vittorio dodged, returned fire, and winged Luca in the shoulder. Her brother staggered but didn't fall.
"Luca!" Liora screamed at the screen, as if he could hear her.
Vittorio's voice came through the monitor's audio feed, cold and lethal. "Drop the weapon, Rossi. This is your last chance."
Luca laughed bitterly, blood dripping down his arm. "Go to hell, Calderone. She's my sister!"
He raised his gun again.
Liora couldn't watch anymore. She slammed her fist against the panic room door. "Let me out! I have to stop this!"
Maria tried to pull her back. "It's too dangerous!"
But Liora was beyond reason. She grabbed the small knife from her pocket and jammed it into the door's emergency release mechanism, forcing it open with sheer desperation. The guards outside were too distracted by the fighting to stop her immediately.
She ran.
Down the corridor. Into the elevator. She slammed the button for the basement levels, heart in her throat.
The elevator descended into hell.
When the doors opened, smoke and gunfire greeted her. She ducked low, running toward the basement cell block, following the sound of her brother's voice.
"Luca!" she screamed.
Both men turned at the sound of her voice.
Luca's face lit up with desperate hope. "Liora! Come with me! Now!"
Vittorio's expression twisted with fury and raw pain. He lowered his gun slightly, but his eyes burned. "Liora. Get behind me. Now."
She stood frozen between them — the brother who had risked everything for her, and the man who had claimed her body, soul, and heart.
Gunfire erupted again from the side corridor. A Sicilian attacker charged toward them. Vittorio spun and fired, dropping the man, but the distraction gave Luca the opening he needed.
Luca lunged forward, grabbing Liora's arm. "Run with me!"
Vittorio roared in rage. He fired a warning shot that grazed Luca's side, but didn't kill him. "Let her go!"
Liora was caught between them, tears streaming down her face. "Stop! Both of you! Please stop!"
Luca pulled her toward the emergency exit. "He's using you! Come with me!"
Vittorio advanced, gun still raised but not pointed at her. His voice was raw. "Liora. Choose. Right now."
The moment stretched into eternity.
Liora looked at her brother — the last piece of her old life, bleeding and desperate.
Then she looked at Vittorio — the man who had become her obsession, her safety, her addiction.
Her voice broke as she made her choice.
"I'm sorry, Luca."
She pulled her arm free from her brother's grip and stepped toward Vittorio.
Luca's face crumpled with heartbreak. "Liora… no…"
Vittorio's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her behind him protectively. His gun remained trained on Luca.
"Take him alive," Vittorio ordered his arriving men. "He still has value."
As Luca was subdued and dragged away, screaming her name, Vittorio turned and crushed Liora against his chest.
"You chose me," he whispered fiercely against her hair, voice thick with emotion. "Finally."
Liora sobbed into his shirt, the weight of her decision crushing her.
She had chosen the devil.
And the war had only just begun.