CHAPTER 91: FINAL RIVAL’S LAST MOVE

The city was deceptively calm that morning, sunlight spilling across the marble floors of the villa as if the world had finally decided to give them peace. Aria stood by the nursery window, her hand resting protectively over the gentle swell of her belly, watching the garden come alive with the sound of cicadas. For months, it had been quiet, too quiet. The wars were over, alliances had been drawn, and the enemies who once haunted their steps had either fallen or fled. Luca, still scarred from battles both seen and unseen, had begun to breathe again. He was downstairs now, arguing with one of their security heads about tightening perimeters, though he’d promised her that everything was fine.

But peace never truly lasted long in their world. It lingered like a truce written in sand, beautiful, temporary, and one wave away from destruction.

Aria had grown used to feeling eyes on her, the ghosts of her past circling just beyond sight. But this morning, it wasn’t just paranoia. Something in the air shifted. The birds that usually gathered near the balcony scattered all at once, their cries echoing sharply. A soft unease crawled through her spine.

Luca appeared a moment later, his expression carved with tension. "We might have a problem," he said, his voice low but urgent.

She turned to him, brows knitting. "What kind of problem?"

He hesitated before answering. "A message came through. From someone who shouldn’t exist anymore."

Her breath caught. "Who?"

"Dante Gabriel"

The name sent a chill down her spine like a knife dipped in ice. Dante had been the last of the rival heirs, cunning, unpredictable, and believed dead after the ambush six months ago. The explosion that leveled the docks had supposedly ended his reign for good. But if he’d survived...

"What does he want?" she whispered.

Luca’s jaw tightened. "He said he’s coming for what’s his. And he used the word ’family.’"

The rest of the day felt like moving through fog. Aria couldn’t shake the image of Dante’s smirk, that cold, charming arrogance that had fooled so many. He was the kind of man who played long games, who thrived in shadows. And if he was still alive, it meant he’d been waiting for this moment, when their guard was down, when they were distracted by the promise of new life.

By nightfall, the villa was fortified. Guards took their posts, drones circled the perimeter, and every vehicle in and out was checked twice. Still, Luca paced like a caged lion, tension rolling off him in waves.

Aria found him in his office, sleeves rolled up, fingers drumming against the desk as he reviewed surveillance footage. She stepped behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can’t protect me from everything," she said softly.

He turned, eyes meeting hers, weary, but fierce. "I can try."

"I know. But this isn’t just about defense anymore. If Dante’s alive, he’s planning something. You don’t send a message like that unless you’re already moving."

Luca studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. "You think he’s close?"

"I think he’s already here."

The first explosion hit minutes later.

The floor trembled under their feet, shattering the glass windows. Alarms blared as smoke billowed through the corridor. Luca reacted instantly, grabbing Aria and pulling her toward the reinforced safe room. His instincts took over, every step calculated, every command sharp. But the chaos outside grew louder, closer.

Aria’s heart pounded as they reached the secured door. He entered the code with trembling hands, but before it could seal, the faint echo of footsteps stopped them both cold.

"Leaving so soon?"

The voice came from the hall, smooth, venomous, and far too familiar.

Dante Gabriel stepped into view, dressed in black, the firelight dancing across his face. He looked almost untouched by time, save for the scar running from his temple to his jaw, a souvenir from the night they thought he died.

"I told you ghosts don’t stay buried forever," he said, his grin sharp as glass.

Luca moved instinctively, positioning himself in front of Aria. "You should have stayed dead."

"Ah, but where’s the fun in that?" Dante drawled, raising his gun casually. "You took everything from me, my network, my men, my legacy. So I thought, maybe I’ll return the favor. Take what you love most." His gaze flicked to Aria’s belly, and his smirk deepened. "Seems you’ve been busy."

The sound of Luca cocking his weapon sliced through the air. "You’ll never touch her."

Dante tilted his head, amused. "You always did make promises you couldn’t keep."

The gunfire erupted before words could catch up.

Luca shoved Aria into the safe room as bullets ricocheted off the marble walls. She screamed his name, but the heavy door sealed shut, cutting off her view and sound from the battle outside.

Inside the silence, she could hear her heartbeat thunder against her ribs. Every instinct screamed to break free, but she couldn’t risk it. Not now. Not when two lives depended on her staying put.

Minutes dragged like hours. The noise outside grew distant, then suddenly stopped.

The door finally hissed open, smoke curling into the room. Aria rushed out, calling Luca’s name. The hall was littered with debris, the scent of gunpowder hanging thick. Her eyes darted through the haze until she saw him kneeling beside a motionless body.

Dante lay there, his weapon fallen, blood seeping into the cracks of the marble floor. His final smirk had frozen on his face.

Luca turned toward her, eyes dark but alive. "It’s over," he said, voice barely a whisper.

Aria stumbled forward, tears blurring her vision. She sank to her knees beside him, clutching his arm. "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head slowly, though the exhaustion on his face told another story. "Just tired," he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers. "Tired of losing people. Tired of this war."

For a long time, neither of them spoke. The fire burned low in the background, casting a golden glow across the wreckage of their home. It was over, truly over this time. The last rival had fallen, the final betrayal answered.

But the victory didn’t feel like triumph. It felt like survival.

Later that night, after the cleanup and chaos faded, Luca found Aria sitting in the nursery again. The faint hum of the baby monitor filled the room, though it was still months before they would use it. She looked peaceful, almost fragile in the dim light.

"Do you think it ever ends?" she asked quietly, not turning to face him.

He walked over, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Maybe not. But I think we finally get to choose how it continues."

Aria rested her hands over his. "Then let’s choose peace," she whispered. "For us. For the baby."

He kissed her shoulder softly. "For all of it."

Outside, dawn began to break over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and rose. The world beyond the villa still carried its scars, but for the first time in a long while, there was no gunfire, no fear, only the quiet sound of a heartbeat beneath Aria’s hand and the promise of something new rising from the ashes of everything they’d lost.

The final rival was gone. The war was over.

But the story, their story, was just beginning again.