*CHAPTER SIX: THE TRUTH THAT BLEEDS*
The silence had stretched for weeks.
Lucien kept sending things — never flashy, never loud. Always thoughtful. Always specific.
Always ignored.
Until one night, a letter arrived at the Moretti estate.
Handwritten.
No return address.
Lucien opened it in his study, alone. His fingers stilled the moment he saw the handwriting — small, neat, familiar.
*Eli.*
He read slowly.
*"Stop sending gifts. Stop watching me.*
*You can protect me from everything but the past.*
*And that's the part of me you already destroyed.*
*Your family… your name… the Morettis—*
*They're the reason mine was torn apart."*
Lucien didn't move. Didn't breathe.
**"You want me to come back.
But I still wake up hearing my brother scream.
I still remember the night your men kicked in our door.
I was just a kid.
And all I smelled was Alpha blood and gasoline.**
**That kind of pain doesn't vanish, Lucien.
Even if your eyes say you're not like them.
Even if your touch says you mean it."**
**"Maybe you really did see me.
But I saw you first — the moment I learned to hate your name."**
*— Eli."*
Lucien crushed the paper in his hand, every muscle locked.
Sera stood at the door, quiet. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but his silence was louder than rage.
"You never knew?" she asked gently.
Lucien stared at the fire.
"No," he said, voice like stone. "But I'm going to find out who did."
And for the first time since Eli left…
Lucien's restraint cracked.
This wasn't just about claiming him anymore.
It was about *justice*.
Or vengeance.
Maybe both.
Lucien's office was in chaos.
Papers, files, old reports — scattered across the desk. His team worked in silence, tension thick.
"I want names," Lucien said, voice low but deadly. "Everyone who ran Eastside operations eight years ago."
Nico passed him a file. "That was under Capo Raffaele. He's dead now — overdosed two years ago."
Lucien flipped through records, eyes narrowing. "Find out who ordered the hit on the Reyes family."
Sera frowned. "Reyes?"
Lucien looked up. "Eli's last name."
She froze.
"Find survivors. Paperwork. Off-the-record reports. Anything," he ordered. "If the Moretti name destroyed his family, I need to know *why* — and *who* gave the order."
***
*In the quiet town…*
Eli was stocking shelves in the café when the bell rang.
He turned, expecting a regular.
Instead, he froze.
"Juno?" he whispered.
The tall, wiry Omega blinked, then grinned. "Holy sh*t. Eli?"
They ran into each other's arms — laughter, tears, disbelief.
Juno had been his childhood friend — the only one who'd survived the raid on their street. They'd been separated during foster placement.
"I thought you were dead," Juno said, eyes wide.
"Almost," Eli whispered.
They sat for hours, talking in hushed voices. Eli told him about Lucien — about the bond, the confusion, the gifts. Juno listened carefully, then leaned in.
"You don't have to love him," he said gently. "But if he's trying to fix what his family broke… don't close the door just yet."
Eli looked away.
"I'm not ready."
"You don't have to be. But maybe he's the only one who *wants* to fix it."
***
Back at the estate, Lucien slammed a folder shut.
He had what he needed.
*Raffaele Moretti ordered the hit.*
It hadn't been sanctioned. It was personal. Dirty.
And covered up.
Lucien's eyes burned.
"He destroyed Eli's family," Lucien growled. "In *my* name."
Nico asked, "What are you going to do?"
Lucien stood slowly.
"Make it right. Starting with blood."
---