Chapter 18: 16 - Betrayal

The drive home was far from ordinary. Amara, MY MOON, sat beside me, pretending to be indifferent, though I could sense her unease. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes would occasionally dart toward me, as though to check if I was alright.

It was a rare, quiet moment between us, one that felt oddly… domestic. I didn’t say much, allowing the low hum of the engine to fill the space, but my mind was buzzing. She had chosen to come with me.  She had made the decision to move into my home, and that, in itself, was enough to make me happier than I cared to admit.

Earlier the phone buzzed in the console, Marco’s name flashing across the screen. I answered it, his hurried tone instantly putting me on alert. There was an urgent matter that needed my attention—a shipment issue, something I couldn’t afford to delay.

Hanging up, I glanced at Amara. She didn’t ask what the call was about.

When the gates of my estate came into view, I glanced over to find Amara sitting serenely, her gaze fixed forward, betraying none of the curiosity I knew she must feel.

“You’ll like it here,” I said, breaking the silence. “It’s quiet, private. No one will bother you.”

She gave a small hum in response, but I didn’t miss the way her lips quirked upward, betraying her interest.

As we drove up the long driveway, I explained the layout briefly. “The estate’s main operations run here—security, meetings, logistics. I’ve got offices in different cities, but this is home base.”

She nodded, taking it all in with a calmness that still surprised me. Most people would have been overwhelmed, terrified even. But Amara? She acted like I had just told her about an ordinary house.

The moment I stepped out, my men fell into line, their heads bowed in respect. I nodded briefly before circling around to Amara’s side, opening the door for her.

Her eyes met mine, silently saying, You don’t have to do this.

But I would. Always. She deserved the best, and I enjoyed treating her like the queen she was, even if she’d never admit it.

As we walked toward the entrance, I reached for her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. She glanced at me but didn’t pull away, and I couldn’t help but smirk.

Inside, the staff lined up, bowing as we passed. Amara remained composed, her calm gaze sweeping over them, as though this was all perfectly natural.

We took the private elevator to my floor . She broke the silence as we ascended.

“With this entire building under your control, why do you need another one outside?” she asked, her tone genuinely curious.

I leaned closer, just enough to see the faintest hint of pink dusting her cheeks. “Maybe I wanted to be closer to someone,” I murmured.

Her eyes flicked to mine, and though she tried to mask it, I caught the way her cheeks flushed deeper. She quickly turned away, pretending not to hear me, and I smirked, satisfied.

When we reached the door to my suite, I keyed in the passcode:  1201.

“You should know this,” I said, glancing at her.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “And why are you telling me, Mr. Di Carlo? Afraid I’ll break in and steal your secrets?”

“It’s the date I got my name,” I explained. “It’s important.”

Her expression softened slightly, though she didn’t comment further. Instead, she nodded and smiled faintly, as if lost in thought.

Amara wandered ahead, her eyes sweeping over every detail of the space. I followed at a leisurely pace, hands in my pockets, watching her.

“It’s impressive,” she finally said, her voice neutral.

I couldn’t resist. “You can stay in my room,” I teased, leaning casually against the wall.

She spun around so quickly it was almost comical. “Why?” she demanded, her tone sharp.

I shrugged, feigning innocence. “Nothing. You wanted to stay with me, didn’t you?”

Her eyes narrowed, the sass returning in full force. “Do you not have another room in your biggest building in town, Mr. Billionaire?”

The corner of my mouth lifted in amusement. She was really mad.

She turned to leave, muttering something under her breath, but I was quicker. In two steps, I closed the distance between us, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back. She stumbled slightly, her body pressing into mine as I steadied her.

We were inches apart now, her lips just a breath away from mine.

“It’s so easy to rile you up,” I said, my voice low and teasing.

Her eyes flashed, and for a moment, I thought she might actually hit me. Instead, she tilted her chin, her sass still intact. “Well, congratulations, Mr. Di Carlo. You’ve mastered the art of being insufferable.”

I chuckled, my hand lingering on her waist. “I was kidding,” I admitted, though I didn’t move back.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. “Better be.”

Her words were sharp, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips, betraying the fact that she wasn’t entirely annoyed.

“Welcome home, moon,” I said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She blinked, startled by the sudden shift in tone. But instead of responding, she simply turned on her heel and strode deeper into the suite, her back straight and head held high.

I smirked, watching her go. Amara was unlike anyone I had ever met—and I couldn’t wait to see how this played out.

The past two days had been nothing short of exhausting. Between the endless paperwork, meetings, and Marco’s constant updates on the Russians, my plate was full. Amara, meanwhile, had taken to exploring the estate, her curious gaze landing on every corner, every artifact, as though unraveling secrets.

Yet, in her quiet way, she managed to weave herself into my routine. She ensured my meals were on time, often appearing with a subtle smile and an undeniable determination. There was no arguing with her when it came to food.

“You’ll eat now,” she’d say firmly, crossing her arms and waiting until I complied. In just two days, she’d already begun to discipline me, even limiting my coffee intake. I hated to admit it, but her silent care had a way of grounding me.

Finally, today offered a brief reprieve. I sat in my study, savoring the strong aroma of the coffee in my hands. The plan I’d been working on for a while  was set to unfold soon. Marco’s call earlier confirmed the Russians had fled but were making reckless attempts to sabotage my shipments. It was laughable how they underestimated me.

Taking another sip, I let a smirk play on my lips. I admired their audacity but pitied their lack of strategy. My mind wandered back to Amara. Even now, I could sense her presence lingering nearby. Despite her denials, her worry for me was evident. She’d been keeping an eye on me, ensuring I didn’t overdo things.

A knock interrupted my thoughts. I already knew who it was. No one else would dare disturb me here without fear.

“Come in,” I said, my tone neutral but expectant.

Amara walked in with the poise of a queen. Her eyes swept over the room before landing on me. Without a word, she made her way to the chair in the corner, casually sitting and pulling out a book from the shelf. But I knew better. She wasn’t here to read. She was here to spy on me, likely ensuring I wasn’t overindulging in caffeine.

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Comfortable, moon ?”

She glanced up briefly, her expression calm. “Perfectly. Don’t mind me. Carry on.”

I chuckled under my breath. She was worried but would never admit it outright.

My phone buzzed, Marco’s name flashing on the screen. I answered, placing it on speaker. Amara’s eyes flicked toward me, her curiosity piqued but hidden behind a feigned indifference.

“Boss,” Marco’s voice came through, tense but composed. “Everyone’s in position. Waiting for your orders.”

“Good. Update me,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

Marco’s report was detailed. The Russians had split into two groups. One was attempting to intercept our shipment at the docks, while the other was holed up in a warehouse, likely planning their next move. My men were stationed at both locations, ready to strike on my command.

“The warehouse team is reporting a problem,” Marco continued. “One of their vehicles is stuck, blocking the entrance. We’re delayed in setting up.”

I frowned, tapping my fingers against the desk. A delay could cost us.

Amara’s soft voice broke through. “Why not use the side alley? It’s narrow, but it’ll bypass the blockage.”

Both Marco and I froze. She had been listening closely, and her suggestion was so precise it caught even me off guard. How did she know the location so precisely ?

“The side alley?” Marco asked, surprise evident in his tone.

I raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking how she knew. She simply shrugged, returning to her book.

“It’ll work,” I said, masking my amusement. “Marco, relay the order. Use the side alley to set up. I want no further delays.”

“Understood, boss,” Marco replied, his voice tinged with admiration. “Moving now.”

The call ended, and I turned my attention back to Amara. She remained unfazed, pretending to read.

“You’ve been studying my operations?” I asked, my tone light but curious.

She looked up, her expression neutral. “It’s not hard to figure out. You’re predictable, Lucifer.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “Predictable? That’s a bold claim.”

She closed the book, meeting my gaze. “You’re efficient, calculated. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just who you are.”

Her words, simple yet sharp, left me momentarily speechless. She understood me better than most, and it was both unnerving and oddly comforting.

“Efficient, you say? Yet you’ve managed to disrupt my routine in just two days.”

She smirked, standing. “Someone has to keep you in check.”

As she walked out, I couldn’t help but smile. Amara was a mystery I wasn’t in a hurry to solve.

The morning light filtered weakly through the tinted glass windows of my base’s 45th-floor meeting hall. It was a room reserved for power plays and dangerous negotiations, a space where strategies were crafted and alliances forged—or shattered. The air was thick with tension, as usual, but today was different.

Amara, my moon, was here.

She was seated near the far end of the room, a silent observer among a gathering of dangerous men, each more ruthless than the last. The heads of my divisions sat at the polished obsidian table, their expressions stoic but wary. And yet, despite the intimidating atmosphere, Amara sat with an emotionless face, her eyes sharp and observant, like a predator assessing its prey.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her, even as the meeting began. There was something almost unnerving about her composure. She wasn’t just unafraid—she exuded a quiet dominance that seemed to unsettle even the most hardened criminals in the room. It infuriated me and amused me at the same time. She didn’t need to do anything to command attention, and that made me both proud and… jealous.

She was mine. Every single person in this room knew it, but that didn’t stop them from sneaking glances her way. I made a mental note to remind everyone exactly what that meant if anyone dared to forget.

"Boss," Marco’s voice brought me back to the matter at hand. "The shipment was intercepted at the Valgard Port last night."

I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled under my chin. "Details."

"The Russians have moved in," Marco said, his voice tight. "They bribed local port authorities and redirected the shipment to a private dock. Surveillance indicates they're planning to offload it within the next 12 hours. Our informants suggest they’re heavily armed and prepared for resistance."

A map appeared on the large screen at the front of the room. One of my tech specialists, James, tapped a few keys, pulling up a live feed of the port. High-definition drones circled the area, capturing every movement in stunning detail. I noted the positions of the guards, the layout of the dock, and the number of containers they were guarding.

"Weaknesses?" I asked.

"Minimal," Marco admitted. "They’ve reinforced the perimeter with infrared sensors and motion detectors. We’d need to disable their systems without alerting them."

I smirked. "And you call yourselves professionals?"

A few uneasy chuckles rippled through the room, but my eyes stayed fixed on the screen. This was no laughing matter. The shipment contained weapons—highly specialized, custom-made arms that cost a fortune to develop. Losing it wasn’t an option.

"Suggestions?" I asked, my tone clipped.

There was a murmur of ideas, none of which impressed me. It seemed no one had the nerve to present a solid plan. My frustration was mounting when a soft, steady voice cut through the tension.

"They’re using motion detectors and infrared," Amara said, her tone calm. "Override their system. Use a cloaking signal to loop their feeds and give the appearance that nothing has changed. That’ll buy enough time to infiltrate."

All eyes turned to her. She didn’t flinch under the scrutiny, her expression unreadable.

Marco frowned. "And how exactly do you propose we do that?"

She tilted her head slightly, as if the answer was obvious. "Deploy a drone equipped with EMP capabilities. It’ll temporarily disable their system long enough for your tech team to plant a false signal. Once the loop is in place, your men can move in undetected."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And you’re certain this will work?"

She met my gaze without hesitation. "It will."

I chuckled darkly, leaning forward. "You’ve been holding out on me, moon. Where did you learn that?"

She didn’t answer, her lips curling into the faintest of smirks. It was maddening and alluring all at once.

"James," I barked, "can you execute her plan?"

James nodded quickly. "Yes, Boss. We’ll need about 30 minutes to modify a drone."

"Do it," I commanded. "Marco, coordinate with the ground team. I want this operation flawless. No mistakes."

The room sprang into action, but I remained seated, watching her. Amara didn’t so much as blink at the chaos unfolding around her. If anything, she seemed bored, like she’d seen it all before.

As the meeting wrapped up, I stood and walked to her. She looked up at me with those piercing eyes, and I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my lips.

"You’re full of surprises," I said, my voice low so only she could hear.

"You should know by now," she replied coolly. "I don’t scare easily."

"No, you don’t," I agreed, my gaze softening for a moment. "But be careful, moon. This world is dangerous. Even for you."

She rose from her seat, brushing past me with a confidence that left me simultaneously impressed and infuriated.

As she walked away, I turned to Marco. "Keep an eye on her. If anyone so much as looks at her the wrong way, you know what to do."

"Understood, Boss," Marco replied.

Watching her disappear into the hallway, I couldn’t shake the possessive edge in my chest. She was mine, and I’d burn the world to keep her safe. Even from herself.

The meeting room's tense atmosphere lingered even as I left, unimpressed by the mortals’ struggle with their so-called “insurmountable problems.” Their plans, their calculations—it was all so mundane. If I chose, a flick of my wrist and a single thought could resolve everything. Being the Goddess of Death had its benefits, and one of them was the ability to rise above these trivial mortal concerns. Yet, I stayed, watching them falter, almost as if I enjoyed the chaos they brewed.

As I exited the hall, I felt someone following me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was—Marco. Loyal, persistent, and entirely predictable. His quiet footsteps followed me, his presence like a shadow clinging to me from a distance. I halted mid-step, allowing the silence of the corridor to stretch uncomfortably.

Turning on my heel, I faced him. “Why are you following me, Marco?” My voice was calm, yet the weight of my authority made him visibly falter. “Is your boss suspicious of me?”

Marco hesitated, his discomfort palpable as he struggled to find the right words. He was nervous, as anyone would be under my gaze. My lips curved into a slight smirk as I crossed my arms, waiting. My gaze bore into him, and his resolve crumbled.

“M-Mam, it’s not what you think,” he stammered, straightening up to regain composure. “The boss ordered me to keep an eye on everyone who looks at you.”

I raised an eyebrow, my smirk deepening. “So, he’s protecting me, is he?” he's a jealous human !  Kinda Cute though !

Marco nodded stiffly, looking away. “Yes, mam.”

Without another word, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing awkwardly in the corridor. Marco didn’t follow, wisely sensing I was no longer in the mood for company. As I ascended to the upper floors, my thoughts drifted. I’d memorized most of the estate's layout in the past two days, but there was one floor I hadn’t explored yet—the restricted one. Floor fifty eight.

The thought intrigued me.

With a soft hum of power, I shifted my form slightly, enough to move unseen. Skipping Marco's watchful eyes and the building's security was laughably easy. My powers allowed me to slip through the cracks of reality itself, unnoticed and untouched. The moment I stepped onto the restricted floor, a faint familiarity greeted me.

The door at the end of the corridor was identical to one I’d seen before—in the ancestral Di Carlo palace. The ornate carvings whispered of history, of bloodlines, and power. Pushing it open, I stepped into a dimly lit room. Darkness embraced the space, thick and unyielding, but it posed no challenge for me.

With a flick of my wrist, flames sprung to life, floating like sentinels around the room. Their warm glow illuminated rows of portraits—ancestors of the Di Carlo family. Each face stared back, regal and imposing, but my gaze settled on the largest one at the center. Manolo Salvatore Di Carlo. My favourite Old man !

I smiled faintly, speaking to the portrait as if he could hear me. “It’s been a while, old man.”

My voice echoed softly in the stillness. The firelight revealed intricate details on the walls and furniture, but it also revealed something hidden—something only visible to those like me. Glowing inscriptions began to emerge, written in secret ink that could only be seen in the presence of demons or divine beings. Like me !

Curiosity piqued, I stepped closer, reading the first line.

La Muerte, I know you’ve returned.

The corners of my lips twitched upward. Clever old man. He knew I would come.

I continued reading:

I apologize for using your kindness as my shield to protect him.

My smirk faded, replaced by a narrowing of my eyes. I read on, the words stirring a dangerous flicker of anger within me.

I knew you would use your Blaze Heart, and my grandson would resonate with it. I understood the consequences, but I made the choice regardless. Forgive me for binding you to this mortal world and forcing you to stay. Know that my grandson has lost something too. He lost his emotions because of your heart. But it was the only way to save him from his fate.

The flames around me flared, mirroring my irritation. Manipulative as ever, Manolo, I thought.

Still, I read on:

Tell my grandson I loved him the most, though I pushed him to carry the weight of the throne. And if you truly care for him, protect him as only you can.

Fuckin great!!!!

I exhaled slowly, my emotions a volatile mix of fury and reluctant understanding. Looking up at the portrait, I addressed it directly, my voice sharp yet laced with something softer. “Manolo, you knew what you were doing when you made the deal. You gambled with my trust, knowing the price, yet you betrayed me anyway. You bound me here, tied me to your grandson through your selfish desperation.”

My hands curled into fists, but the anger ebbed slightly as I continued. “But I won’t deny it. Your gamble paid off. Because of him, I’ve found something I never thought I had—emotions. It’s infuriating and liberating all at once.”

I turned away, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll protect him, old man. Not because you asked me to, but because He’s Mine Now. And I don’t give up what’s mine.”

With that, I extinguished the flames with a wave of my hand, leaving the room cloaked in darkness once more. The words on the walls lingered in my mind as I walked away, determination hardening my resolve.

Manolo may have set this in motion, but I would decide how it would end .