CHAPTER 102: THE COUNCIL OF WOLVES

The council chamber was a room designed for intimidation. High ceilings. Dark stone walls. A long polished table that stretched almost the entire length of the room. Heavy curtains blocked the morning light, letting in only slivers of gold that broke across the floor like fractured glass. The air was thick with the weight of old power, old grudges, and men who built their kingdoms through violence and loyalty.

Luca entered first.

His presence filled the space instantly. Silent authority. Controlled fury. The kind of dominance that did not need to be announced or proven. It simply existed.

Aria followed at his side, her steps steady, her spine straight, her expression calm enough to unsettle even seasoned soldiers. The room shifted as people noticed her. Not with disrespect, but with something sharper. Wariness. Curiosity. The quiet acknowledgment that she was no longer just Luca’s wife. She was becoming a force within the DeLuca empire itself.

Conversations died the moment they crossed the threshold.

Twelve chairs lined either side of the long table. The heads of every allied family. Men whose alliances could crumble at the smallest sign of weakness. Every one of them rose as Luca took his place at the head of the table.

"Sit," he said simply.

They obeyed.

Aria took the seat directly to Luca’s right, a placement that made several men exchange looks. Traditionally, only family heads sat at the table. Wives waited outside the chamber. But Luca had brought her into the lion’s den without hesitation. Aria felt some of the men judging her presence, but she kept her chin high.

Let them judge. She had walked through more danger than half the men in this room.

Luca remained standing for a moment longer. His gaze moved across each face slowly, deliberately, the way a wolf measures the strength of the pack.

No one spoke.

Good.

He let the silence settle before he began.

"There was an attack last night," Luca said. His voice was low but carried through the room with perfect control. "A planned ambush at the east docks. An explosion, gunfire, casualties. Losses we cannot ignore."

A murmur rippled through the table.

One of the older men, Don Russo, leaned forward slightly. "We heard about the explosion. It reached the newspapers by dawn. They are calling it a warehouse accident."

Luca’s eyes hardened. "It was not an accident."

Another man, younger, sharper, spoke. "Was it Matteo’s doing?"

The question lingered like a blade.

Luca’s jaw tensed. "Matteo is dead."

The room went silent again. Several men lowered their eyes. Some in respect. Some in relief. Some with calculations already forming in their minds.

Don Russo cleared his throat. "Our condolences, Don DeLuca. Blood should never spill between brothers."

Aria felt Luca stiffen beside her. She rested her hand lightly against her thigh, resisting the urge to reach for him in front of these men who smelled weakness like sharks.

"Condolences are unnecessary," Luca said. "What matters now is the threat that remains."

"What threat?" asked Don Bellini, his tone cautious.

Luca reached for the file on the table and opened it, revealing scanned pages, photographs, lists of names.

"These," he said, "were found in Matteo’s possession. Plans for a takeover. A coalition forming behind my back. Meetings with the Russians. A restructuring of territories. Betrayal on every page."

The men leaned in, eyes narrowing.

"And the names?" Don Russo asked.

"That is the part we address today," Luca replied.

He turned the file so they could see the page marked with a pen stroke. Five names. Five people who had sat at his table, drunk his wine, sworn loyalty.

Aria’s heart tightened.

Luca continued. "We have identified at least two insiders who helped Matteo. One confirmed. Two under suspicion. And one name that surprises even me."

"What proof do you have?" asked one of the uncles, Don Silvano.

"Matteo was not intelligent enough to hide his tracks," Luca said with a cold smirk. "He relied on people who were too arrogant to erase their own fingerprints."

Murmurs grew louder.

A younger don, Luca Vitale, leaned forward. "You think someone in this room betrayed you?"

Luca did not answer immediately.

Instead, he slowly closed the file, folded his hands in front of him, and fixed the young man with a stare that chilled the air.

"I do not think," Luca said. "I know."

Silence fell so heavy that even breathing felt too loud.

Aria watched every face carefully. The twitch of an eyebrow. A swallowed breath. Averted eyes. Fear. Guilt. Confusion. She had learned to read people by necessity, not by choice.

Luca’s eyes never left Vitale.

"I know you met with Matteo behind my back two months ago," Luca said.

Vitale stiffened. "That is not true. I went to discuss a business partnership with his men. Nothing more."

"Do not lie to me." Luca’s voice cut like glass. "I have the surveillance footage. The timestamp. The conversation transcript."

The man swallowed hard.

The other dons looked between them, waiting.

Luca stepped closer, his presence crushing. "Did you know Matteo was planning an attack?"

Vitale shook his head quickly. "No. I swear it."

"Did you give him information about my shipments?"

"No. I only told him that you were considering removing him from the financial division. I thought he deserved to know. He was your brother."

That word sparked something volatile in the air.

Aria tensed.

Luca’s expression turned deadly calm. "My brother was loyal to no one. And you thought you were earning his favor. Instead, you were feeding a traitor."

"I did not know," Vitale insisted.

"You should have known," Luca replied.

Don Russo leaned forward, tone softer. "Luca, perhaps we need proof before making accusations."

Luca looked at him with a slow, humorless smile. "You want proof?"

Without breaking eye contact, Luca snapped his fingers.

The door opened. Nico stepped inside, holding two sealed folders and a flash drive.

"Show them," Luca commanded.

Nico plugged the drive into the small screen at the end of the table.

Footage appeared.

Vitale, walking into a restaurant. Matteo waiting in the corner. A handshake. An envelope passed between them. A tense discussion. Body language that spoke of secrecy, not business.

The room grew cold.

Vitale’s face drained of color.

Luca spoke in a voice dangerously quiet. "You fed him information. You met him again after this video was taken. And you lied to my face just now."

Don Bellini stood abruptly. "If he betrayed the council, he cannot remain."

Another don nodded. "This is treason."

Vitale stood, panic surfacing. "You cannot punish me without a full hearing. This is not how the council works."

Luca turned to him slowly.

"This is not a democracy," Luca said. "This is my house. And in my house, betrayal is not debated. It is erased."

The room fell still.

Vitale took a step back. "Luca, wait. You know me. I am loyal. I made a mistake."

"You made a choice," Luca corrected. "And choices have consequences."

He did not raise his voice. He did not show anger. He simply nodded once to Nico.

Two guards stepped inside.

Vitale paled. "Please. I have a family. Children. Do not do this."

Luca looked at him, eyes unblinking. "Then you should have thought of them before you chose Matteo."

Vitale’s knees buckled. He sank to the floor, pleading now, desperate. "Please, Don DeLuca. Mercy. I beg you."

Aria felt something twist painfully in her chest. She did not pity Vitale. She pitied the fear she saw in him. The fear of Luca. The fear he had earned by breaking trust. But her eyes drifted to Luca and she saw no hesitation in him. No remorse. Only clarity.

This was the man who built an empire. The man who had survived by never flinching.

The guards dragged Vitale from the room as he screamed for another chance.

The door slammed shut.

Silence swallowed the room again.

Then Don Russo spoke carefully. "Luca. What of the remaining names?"

"We confirm them. One by one," Luca replied. "And when we find the rest of Matteo’s allies, we end them."

"And if the Russians retaliate?" Don Silvano asked.

Luca leaned forward, both hands braced against the table, his voice quiet but iron strong.

"Then we remind them who we are."

Aria felt something shift inside her. Not fear. Not awe. Something deeper. Something she had not wanted to name until now.

Luca turned his head slightly toward her, his eyes meeting hers. For a moment, the Don slipped away. Just for her. His gaze softened by a degree so small no one else would have noticed.

But she did.

And that was enough.

He straightened again, facing the council.

"This meeting is not over," he said. "There is one more matter we must address."

A tense pause.

"Someone helped Matteo access the docks," Luca continued. "Someone with high clearance. Someone with information only a few in this room should have."

The room stiffened.

Aria watched their faces again.

One flinch.

One twitch.

One flicker of guilt.

She saw it before Luca did. Or maybe he saw it too and waited.

Don Silvano.

His fingers tightened around the edge of the table. His jaw clenched. His eyes darted once toward the door.

Luca noticed.

Everyone did.

The tension in the room thickened into something unbreathable.

Luca’s voice dropped lower.

"Stand up, Silvano."

The older man hesitated.

"Stand," Luca repeated.

Silvano slowly rose, his hands trembling.

Aria’s stomach twisted. Her secret fluttered inside her, a life unaware of the danger around it.

Luca stepped closer to Silvano.

"You were there," Luca said softly. "At the docks last month. You diverted a shipment. You thought no one saw."

Silvano’s face paled. "Luca, please. I can explain."

Luca’s expression remained empty.

"Explain," he said.

Silvano opened his mouth.

But no words came.

Luca shook his head slowly.

The room felt like it was holding its breath.

Then Luca turned to the others.

"This is how betrayal grows," he said. "One man. One secret. One moment of greed."

Aria watched the men exchange looks, realizing what Luca was doing. He was not just removing traitors. He was reshaping the hierarchy. Reminding them that loyalty was no longer a suggestion.

It was a requirement.

Luca stepped back, his voice calm.

"Take him."

Silvano dropped to his knees. "Please, Don. I only did what I thought was best for the business."

"Your business ends today," Luca said.

The guards moved.

The man screamed.

And the council watched.

Aria closed her eyes for a moment, not to avoid the scene, but to steady herself. She felt Luca’s presence beside her again. His shoulder brushing hers. A silent reassurance. For her, he softened. For the world, he was steel.

When the room finally settled and the last traitor was dragged out, Luca returned to his seat.

"This council is dismissed," he said.

The men rose quickly, leaving the chamber one by one.

When the room was finally empty, Luca exhaled slowly, his hands bracing the table. The weight of the morning clung to him like armor.

Aria stood and approached him.

"You did what you had to," she whispered.

He looked at her with eyes that held exhaustion and something deeper.

"I did," he said. "But the cost keeps growing."

She rested a hand on his chest.

"We will face it. Together."

Luca closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting her touch soften the cracks he refused to show anyone else.

The door shut behind the last council member.

And in the silence that followed, the true war began.