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Chapter 45: A Trap for Traitors
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2025-04-05 10:11:23The following morning began with the taste of vengeance and bitter espresso.
Sophia stood at the sleek marble kitchen counter, her bare legs crossed beneath Rafael’s white dress shirt. The bruises on her hips were a reminder of last night—of their shared violence, their power. Her body still ached, gloriously, from being claimed against the window. But her mind? Sharper than ever. Rafael leaned beside her, sipping coffee, shirtless, tattoos sprawling like shadows across his chest. “We can’t just hit back blindly,” she said, staring at the files they'd recovered from the warehouse. “Luciana has eyes everywhere. If she knows we’ve found these, she’ll vanish.” “She won’t run,” Rafael said, voice low. “She thinks she has Salvatore’s protection.” Sophia tapped a folder. “Then we make her believe that protection has failed.” ** By midday, they were in the war room. Mateo paced like a caged wolf. Zara had her laptop open, hacking into surveillance grids. Xander leaned against the wall, loading clips into his favorite rifle. “The plan is simple,” Sophia began, her tone lethal. “We leak intel. Fake intel.” She placed a black USB drive on the table. “A whisper about Rafael’s bunker. A cash drop. Something too tempting for Luciana to ignore.” Mateo frowned. “You want her to walk into a trap?” Sophia’s smile was razor-sharp. “No. I want her to *run* into one.” ** That night, the bait was dropped. A fake shipment ledger. Coordinates. Guard schedules. An open door painted in blood. Sophia watched from a rooftop two blocks away, thermal scope tracking every movement. “She took it,” Zara confirmed over comms. “Her men are on the move.” The trap was set. And waiting inside the abandoned building… Were Rafael’s most loyal killers. ** The ambush was swift. Gunfire erupted in the dark, screams echoing off concrete. Luciana’s soldiers never stood a chance—cut down by precision and fury. But Luciana? She didn’t show. Sophia’s jaw clenched as she listened to the radio chatter. “She *knew.*” Rafael cursed. “She fed her own men to us.” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “She’s taunting us now.” ** When they returned to the penthouse, it was no longer safe. The elevator was stuck between floors. The lobby guard was missing. And there was a blood smear on the carpet. “Clear the floor,” Rafael ordered, drawing his gun. Sophia moved with him, silent as shadow. The penthouse door was ajar. They slipped inside, scanning every corner. Then—movement. The bathroom door creaked open. Sophia raised her weapon— Only to find a teenage girl inside, trembling, hands raised. “Please,” she whispered, “don’t shoot.” Sophia blinked. “Who are you?” “I’m Mia,” the girl stammered. “Luciana sent me. I was supposed to distract you—buy her time.” Sophia’s finger twitched on the trigger. “Why tell us?” “Because I heard what they were planning.” Her voice cracked. “They’re going to take the *child.* The one in the file. She said he’s already here.” Sophia’s blood ran cold. “*What child?*” Mia shook her head. “I don’t know. Just… not born yet. Some experiment. Luciana called it her legacy.” Rafael cursed under his breath. “She’s not just after us. She’s after bloodlines.” Sophia stared at the trembling girl. “Is this a game?” “No. I swear. I heard her say they’d come for you next.” Sophia and Rafael exchanged a glance. This war had just escalated. Luciana wasn’t just trying to kill them. She wanted to *create* something in their place. And she’d started with *their DNA.* ** Later that night, after Mia was secured under guard, Sophia lay awake, heart racing. “What if she’s already done it?” she whispered. “What if somewhere out there—there’s a child made from us?” Rafael’s eyes darkened. “Then we find him.” “And if she’s carrying it herself?” “Then I rip it from her womb.” His voice was pure venom. Sophia turned to him, tracing the scars across his chest. “I never wanted kids,” she murmured. “But if it’s ours…” His hand wrapped around hers, firm and grounding. “It’ll be born in fire. Raised in war. And it’ll *never* be a pawn.” Sophia’s breath hitched. Neither of them said it out loud. But in that moment—something changed. Their war wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about *legacy.* ---
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The hum of the engine was steady, the car’s interior thick with tension. Sophia’s body trembled, every muscle tight as she fought against the reality of what had just happened. She had been taken. Stolen from the safety of her quiet life and thrown into the hands of a man who radiated power and danger.The leather seat beneath her felt too soft, too luxurious, a cruel contrast to the fear gripping her chest. Her wrists were still trapped in the iron-like grasp of the man beside her—Rafael De Luca.The name meant nothing to her, but the way he carried himself, the way he looked at her like she was already his, sent ice-cold terror down her spine.Sophia’s breath came fast, erratic. Her heart pounded violently against her ribs, but she refused to sit still. She twisted in his grip, kicking her legs, trying to push herself away from him."Let me go!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation.Rafael didn’t flinch. If anything, amusement flickered in those emerald-green eyes as he
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The sunlight crept across the stone rooftop like a slow-burning fire, casting a golden glow over the sleeping city below. Birds chirped in the distance, but inside Sophia, a storm still raged. The adrenaline from the night before hadn't faded; if anything, it had carved itself deeper into her bones.She sat wrapped in Rafael’s discarded dress shirt, legs tucked beneath her, the buttons undone enough to reveal the bruises and bites he’d left across her chest and collar. Marks of possession. Marks of *pleasure*.Rafael stood a few feet away, shirtless, his body glistening with morning dew and the aftermath of war. He lit a cigarette, his jaw tight with thought.“Will there be retaliation?” Sophia asked, her voice still hoarse from moans and gunfire.“Yes.” Rafael didn’t sugarcoat it. “They’ll come harder next time. They’ve seen what you are now.”Sophia raised a brow. “What am I?”He turned to her, his gaze burning hotter than the rising sun. “My weapon. My weakness. My queen.”Her brea
