Infiltration (Part Two)

Alessia's pov

I was supposed to be heading home.

That’s what I told myself when I left the bar. That’s what I told myself when I turned onto the dimly lit street.

But instead of walking straight to my apartment, I found myself here.

Outside the Palermo Grand Hotel.

Why?

Because of him.

Luca Romano.

I didn’t know why I was curious about him. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, the way Marcello had warned me to stay away.

Or maybe it was how he had looked at me in the alley last night—like he knew something I didn’t.

Whatever the reason, I was here. And I was about to leave when—

Boom.

A deep explosion rocked the side of the building. The windows on the third floor shattered, smoke billowing out. The explosion of glass and the shriek of a car alarm. Shards rained down like a deadly confetti, and I stumbled back , my groceries falling to the ground.

People screamed, a few ran towards the scene and others away from it. My heart pounded in my chest as I stood frozen, staring at the crumpled body lying across the shattered roof of a car. Blood pooled quickly, a dark glistening mass that reflected the street lights like a crimson mirror.

For a moment the world seems to hold its breath. Then as if on cue, the chaos resumed — screaming, running, the sound of sirens in the distance.

I couldn't move, All I could do was stare and wonder what kind of darkness lay behind the luxury and beauty of that towering hotel.

Because in Palermo, nothing was ever as it seemed.

I stumbled back, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Then—gunfire.

Loud. Sharp.

What the hell is going on?

My feet were frozen in place as I watched people rush out of the hotel entrance, some ducking for cover, others calling the police.

And then—

A door burst open.

A man sprinted into the alley, his tall frame moving like a shadow.

Luca.

And before I could even react—

He ran straight into me.

I gasped as he grabbed my arm, his grip strong and unyielding.

“Move.” His voice was sharp, urgent.

“Luca—”

“No time,” he snapped, pulling me with him. “Unless you want to die tonight.”

Something in his tone, in the hard look in his eyes, made my stomach twist.

So I ran.

We weaved through the dark streets of Palermo, dodging alleyways and cutting through side roads. I didn’t know where he was taking me. I barely knew why I was following him.

But I knew one thing—whoever was after him wasn’t far behind.

Luca didn’t stop until we reached an abandoned warehouse near the docks. He yanked open a metal door, shoving me inside before locking it behind us.

The space was cold, empty, except for a few crates stacked in the corner.

He leaned against the door, breathing hard.

I crossed my arms. “You want to tell me what the hell just happened?”

Luca ran a hand through his hair, his sharp blue eyes flicking to mine. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“No shit.” I huffed. “First, you show up at the bar. Then you act like some mysterious hero in that alley. Now, you’re dragging me through the city like I’m part of whatever this is.” I took a step closer. “So tell me, Romano. Who the hell are you?”

Something flickered in his gaze.

“Someone you shouldn’t get involved with.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Too late for that, don’t you think?”

He exhaled, pushing off the door. “Fine. You want answers?”

I folded my arms. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

He stepped closer, the air between us thick with something unspoken.

“I’m in the middle of a war,” he said simply. “And now, you’re standing in the crossfire.”

My stomach tightened.

“What kind of war?” I asked cautiously.

Luca’s jaw clenched. “One where men like Matteo Greco don’t make it out alive.”

Matteo Greco.

The name sent a chill down my spine. Everyone in Palermo knew who he was—part of a crime family. Dangerous. Ruthless. Untouchable.

And Luca was going after him?

I swallowed hard. “You’re crazy.”

Luca smirked. “I’ve been called worse.”

My mind spun. None of this made sense. I was just a bartender. I had nothing to do with men like Luca or Greco.

So why was I here?

I shook my head. “You don’t need me. Let me go.”

Luca’s expression darkened. “It’s not that simple.”

I scoffed. “Why not?”

He stepped even closer, his voice dropping. “Because those men back there? They saw you with me. And if they think you’re important to me, they won’t stop until they find you.”

The room suddenly felt colder.

I wanted to argue. To tell him he was wrong.

But deep down, I knew he wasn’t.

I had seen their faces in that alley. The way they watched me.

I wasn’t just some random girl anymore.

I was at a loose end.

Luca’s gaze softened slightly, but his voice remained firm.

“You stay with me. Or you die.”

"Alessia," he declared with conviction,

"When the time is right, I'll come for you. You won't be trapped forever." His fingers brushed against my cheek, igniting a spark of warmth. A sharp silence filled the air.

I stared at him, my heart pounding.

I didn’t trust him.

But I trusted the fear curling in my gut even less.

I exhaled shakily. “Fine.”

Luca’s smirk returned, but there was no amusement in it.

“Welcome to the game, Alessia.”

Then he walked away, into the night, leaving me with newfound hope and a heart brimming with anticipation.

And just like that, my life changed forever.

As I stepped into the warm glow of our apartment, the familiarity of home enveloped me like a gentle hug. The aroma of freshly cooked pasta wafted from the kitchen, making my stomach growl with hunger. My mother, busy at the stove, turned to me with a questioning gaze.

"Alessia, cara, where are the groceries?" she asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. The events of the evening still swirled in my mind like a raging storm. I took a deep breath, attempting to compose myself.

"The store had closed, Mamma," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "I'll go again tomorrow."

My mother's eyes narrowed slightly, her expression skeptical. "Closed? But you said you'd be back an hour ago. I was starting to worry."

I forced a weak smile, feeling a pang of guilt for lying to her. "I'm sorry, Mamma. I lost track of time. It won't happen again."

My mother's gaze lingered on mine, as if searching for any sign of deception. After a moment, she nodded and turned back to the stove. "Alright dear. Let's eat dinner, and we'll talk more about it later."

I breathed a silent sigh of relief, grateful that the conversation had been deflected. But as I sat down at the table, I couldn't shake the feeling that my life was about to become a lot more complicated.