Shadows of Naples: Code Lightning.

And suddenly the forest was pierced by a loud gunshot… Javier stopped, his legs refusing to move as his heart tightened in his chest. “No…” he whispered, bending forward as if trying to grasp the air. His hands trembled, and he felt a crushing disbelief seep into him. This was the moment he understood—something had happened, something far worse than just a loss. It was the collapse of his hopes, the end of everything. Javier fell to his knees, bowing his head, unable to hold back the tears. He couldn’t stop the pain filling him. He couldn’t understand why it happened, why she never had a chance. His hands shook from the agony. He couldn’t believe it. “Sofia…” he breathed out weakly. But it was already too late. That gunshot had taken her. From now on, his life was empty. Only pain. Only darkness. And that unforgettable sound. --- She looked into Lorenzo’s eyes as he stood before her, a gun pointed to the floor. His gaze was cold and merciless, without a trace of emotion, while her heart continued to pound as if nothing had happened. Her mind was in complete chaos. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t shot her. What did it mean? Suddenly, laughter echoed. It was familiar, and it brought nothing but anger and despair. It was Alicia—her piercing, merciless laughter—and there was something in it that sent a chill over Sofia’s skin. “She thought she had won. And now she’s dead,” Sofia heard Alicia’s triumphant voice. There was a cruel satisfaction in it, as if she was already celebrating her victory. A car engine roared as it drove away, and Sofia realized—Alicia was convinced it was over, that her victim was dead. The car grew more distant, and though Sofia wasn’t hurt, her heart tightened painfully. She couldn’t leave it like this. Something cold and determined appeared in her eyes. --- Lorenzo, without saying a word, shoved the gun into his pocket and calmly pulled out a set of keys. With practiced precision, he removed the handcuffs from Sofia’s wrists. His movements were sharp, controlled—professional. He helped her up, holding her hand, though he didn’t look her in the eye. Sofia felt the cold metal leave her skin, but her mind lagged behind. Her heart raced, her thoughts tangled with questions that had no answers. She stared at Lorenzo in confusion. His calm expression revealed nothing. No fear, no aggression—nothing. And that unsettled her even more. “Why didn’t you kill me?” she finally managed to ask. She couldn’t understand why Lorenzo, who could’ve shot her without hesitation, decided instead to help. And not only that—he didn’t seem intent on hurting her at all. Only cold calmness. Lorenzo looked at her but didn’t answer. Instead, he extended his hand, silently asking her to follow. But Sofia stood her ground, refusing to look away. Every second stretched endlessly, her heart pounding—but there was no fear in her eyes. Only questions tearing her apart inside. Why didn’t he kill her? Why did he let her live? Lorenzo sighed softly, then lifted his gaze, meeting hers for the first time in what felt like forever. His voice was calm, even cold, yet there was something behind it that made her hesitate. “Do you really think I’d do it?” he asked. There was no malice, no mockery in his tone. Lorenzo didn’t look like someone who killed on command. He was playing a different game. Sofia slowly began to understand that this hadn’t been part of his plan. But why? Her wrists were free, and though she was grateful for that, relief didn’t come. Only deeper confusion. “You work for Alicia,” she said, forcing her voice not to shake from frustration. “And you’re not killing me. What is this, some kind of game? What do you want from me, Lorenzo?” He didn’t answer immediately. He studied her carefully, as if trying to understand her intentions. Then he spoke quietly: “I don’t like being forced to do things I don’t want to do. And I definitely don’t like someone else’s games.” His lips curved into a faint smile, though it wasn’t a pleasant one. “You have a choice, Sofia. But you don’t have much time.” Confusion overwhelmed her again. “I don’t understand,” she said, swallowing her anger. “Are you going to take me and deliver me to Alicia? Are you planning to use me?” Lorenzo answered calmly, his expression unchanging: “You’re not as naive as you look,” he said, nodding in approval. “But no—I won’t hand you over to Alicia. Not if you behave wisely. You can’t escape alone, but things can change if you make the right moves.” Sofia’s confusion deepened. A thousand questions swirled in her mind. She held her breath, unable to understand whose side Lorenzo was truly on. He closed the door behind them and walked toward the exit. Sofia followed—she had no other choice. The cool night air brushed against her skin as starry mist dimmed the sky. Her heart felt heavy, and nothing made sense anymore. Why didn’t he kill her? Why not deliver her to Alicia? “Where are we going?” she asked as they stepped outside. Lorenzo approached a black SUV hidden between the trees. “Get in,” he said without turning. “We need to talk.” Sofia froze. Fear, hesitation, and a strange flicker of trust battled inside her. Running was pointless—Lorenzo controlled everything. If she didn’t get answers now, she never would. He glanced at her again with an unreadable expression. “Are you coming?” he asked, sharply opening the driver’s door. She finally stepped forward and got into the car. Her heart raced. Dozens of questions burned inside her. The car started, and the silence between them felt suffocating. Lorenzo’s hands rested steadily on the wheel. Sofia couldn’t stop herself: “What do you want from me, Lorenzo?” He lowered his gaze slightly, silent at first. Only when they left the city did he respond: “That depends on whether you can trust me.” Her heartbeat quickened. “Why should I trust you?” she asked, her voice trembling between sarcasm and pain. Lorenzo remained calm. “Because,” he said sharply, “if you haven’t noticed—you’re still alive. That’s a good enough reason, isn’t it?” Sofia went silent, searching for some hidden truth in his words. The silence thickened again. “Can I ask something?” she finally said. “Ask,” he replied. “Alicia thinks I’m dead?” “Yes.” Sofia swallowed hard. “And… where are we going?” “To your estate.” “For what?” “You need to pack your things,” he explained. “I’m taking you to your parents in Milan.” She looked at him in disbelief. His words sounded impossible. “I told Alicia I’d go bury your body and then take a break and travel to my parents in Palermo,” Lorenzo continued. “She cannot know where I’m really going. It’s safer if she thinks you’re dead.” Sofia said nothing, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. The car stopped at the gates of her estate. Lorenzo didn’t look at her when she stepped out. The cold wind brushed her face as she walked to the house, each step echoing her confusion. Inside, she moved through the silent rooms, memories clinging to the walls. She packed mechanically, her mind racing. Why did Lorenzo save her? What did he gain from this? Minutes later, she returned outside. Lorenzo sat in the car, expression unchanged. “All set?” he asked. She nodded. “You promised this isn’t a game,” she said quietly. “You really want to help me?” He held her gaze for a moment. “I’m doing this for myself,” he finally said. “And for you.” She didn’t fully understand—but she followed him. --- The ride was silent again. The hum of the engine filled the space between them. “Lorenzo… why didn’t you kill me?” she asked softly. He didn’t answer immediately. Then: “We’ve been through too much, Sofia,” he said quietly. “I just… couldn’t. I wouldn’t be able to kill you.” Her heart skipped. Something in his voice reached deeper than she expected. Does he still love me? she wondered. She didn’t dare ask. Soon they arrived at the grand Rayland estate in Milan. The iron gates opened slowly, and the car pulled up to the marble steps. Sofia noticed a familiar figure standing by the door—her mother, Isabella Rayland, rigid, elegant, tense. “Mom…” Sofia whispered as Isabella rushed forward and pulled her into a trembling embrace. “Good evening, Mrs. Rayland,” Lorenzo said politely. “Good evening, Lorenzo,” Isabella replied, narrowing her eyes slightly as she looked at him… Sofia stepped back from her mother and looked into her eyes. — We need to talk, Mom, — she said quietly. — Where’s Dad? — In the living room, — Isabella replied. Sofia turned to Lorenzo, who silently nodded. She took a deep breath, and they went inside. The soft lighting of the hall reminded her of the past, but her thoughts were consumed by the present. In the spacious living room, with massive bookshelves lining the walls and expensive antique furniture, sat Albert Rayland. As always, he looked impeccable: gray hair neatly combed back, suit flawless. His cold, analytical gaze fixed on his daughter. — Sofia, — he said quietly but firmly. She stepped closer. Her heart raced. This conversation wouldn’t be easy. Isabella moved to the kitchen to make tea. The moment Albert saw Lorenzo, his eyes narrowed in anger. Clutching a newspaper, he stood abruptly. — What is he doing here? — he demanded coldly, not taking his eyes off Lorenzo. Sofia placed a gentle hand on her father’s shoulder. — Dad, calm down. I’ll explain everything, — she said confidently, though exhaustion lingered in her voice. Albert didn’t take his gaze off Lorenzo, jaw clenched tightly. — Alicia ordered Lorenzo to kill me, — Sofia began quietly — but he didn’t. He deceived her, made it seem like he carried out the order, and brought me here. Albert’s eyes flashed with disbelief for a moment. He slowly shifted his gaze from his daughter to Lorenzo. — Why? — His voice was heavy and rough. Sofia sighed, feeling the tension thicken. — Because… he couldn’t, — she answered, glancing at Lorenzo. He said nothing, only nodded briefly, acknowledging her words. — I remember how he betrayed us, Sofia, — Albert finally said, looking back at her. — And now you say you trust him? — He could have killed me, but he didn’t, — Sofia said firmly. — He’s risking his life to keep me alive. Albert looked at Lorenzo again, but now with caution rather than anger. — If you deceived Alicia, can you deceive us too? — His voice was sharp, like a knife. Lorenzo finally spoke: — I know you won’t believe me immediately. But I couldn’t kill her, Mr. Rayland. Albert watched him silently for several more seconds, then turned sharply to Sofia. — And what do you plan to do next? Sofia exhaled, realizing the decision would be difficult for everyone, but she was determined. — Dad, — she said calmly — I’m staying here in Milan. It’s the best place for me to stay in the shadows, and Alicia won’t know I’m alive. Albert looked at her, his face showing brief surprise before he composed himself. — You want to stay here? — he asked, slightly unsettled. — Is it safe? Sofia nodded, trying to sound confident. — I’ll be protected here. Alicia won’t look for me in her own nest. Isabella, who had been standing by the table, finally intervened: — It’s risky, Sofia. Aren’t you afraid it will be hard to stay in the shadows over time? What if someone notices you here? Sofia looked at her mother and answered firmly: — I know it will be hard, but I’ll be safe here. It’s the best option, and I’m confident I can remain unnoticed. Albert studied Sofia, then, after a brief pause, sighed deeply. — Alright, — he said. — If that’s your decision, we support you. But be careful, Sofia. Don’t forget, Alicia won’t stop until she gets what she wants. Sofia nodded, grateful for their support. — I’ll be careful, Dad, — she assured him. Isabella looked at her daughter again, her gaze still vigilant, but she didn’t argue. — If this is your choice, we’re with you, — she said. Sofia felt a wave of relief, though she knew this was only the beginning of a long and difficult path. She turned to Lorenzo. — We’ll need to take some safety measures, but we can handle it, — she said, trying to convince both herself and him. Lorenzo only nodded, understanding that many trials awaited them ahead Milan was bathed in evening lights as Sofia and Lorenzo stepped out of the estate. The streets breathed tranquility: leaves rustled, shop windows glowed, and faint music drifted from open terraces. Sofia pulled her cap lower over her forehead, trying to stay unrecognized. She wore a short top, jeans, and had her hair tied in a ponytail. Lorenzo walked beside her — in a T-shirt and a denim jacket. A cool breeze blew. Sofia shivered slightly. Without hesitation, Lorenzo took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You’re welcome. You can’t get sick,” he replied with a faint smile. They walked through narrow streets past cafés smelling of espresso and fountains shimmering under the streetlights. Against the backdrop of everyday city life — laughter, conversations, music — Sofia and Lorenzo remained silent, each lost in their own thoughts. “She knew where to strike,” Lorenzo finally spoke. “She always waited for the moment to destroy you.” “Alicia never hid that she hates me,” Sofia replied bitterly. “But I didn’t think she would go this far.” “She dreams of becoming the only ‘donna,’” he said. “And you are the main obstacle for her.” Sofia nodded. Her gaze was forward, but determination burned in her eyes. “Now she thinks I’m dead. That’s our advantage.” “And a chance to start over,” Lorenzo added. Sofia stopped and looked at him. “Start over? Do you really believe there’s still a ‘start’ for us?” “I believe there’s a future. And you’ll have your say, Sofia.” Twilight had already fallen by the time they returned to the estate. The wind had grown colder, and Sofia wrapped herself more tightly in Lorenzo’s denim jacket, still keeping her cap on. The streets of Milan remained calm behind them, and ahead loomed the familiar façade of her family home. The gate opened automatically, and Lorenzo led Sofia inside. “Are you sure you want to stay here?” she asked as they stepped over the threshold. “Yes,” he replied quietly. “If Alicia finds out you’re alive, she’ll start hunting. I have to be close. And I won’t leave you, Sofia.” She nodded. For a moment, something soft, almost trusting, appeared in her eyes. In the living room, Isabella was already waiting with a blanket in her hands. “I’ve prepared rooms for you,” she said warmly. “Sofia, yours is as always. And Lorenzo… will stay in the guest room on the second floor.” “Thank you, Mrs. Rayland,” he replied politely. “Just Isabella,” she corrected, slightly softer than before. Sofia removed her cap and tossed it onto the side table in the hallway. Fatigue hit her suddenly, but inside, she felt a strange relief. For the first time in a long while — safety. And although many threats still lay ahead, that evening, the wa lls of the family estate were filled with peace.