SILENCE THE SERPENT

Storms crashed against the desecrated stained glass of the Ravenna house, their frozen bite dropping as if the world itself trembled before the judgment being called into anticipation. A fire blazed and thundered in the great study's fireplace, not quite sufficient to melt the frost that had formed between heartbeats there. Adraine standing by the window, forearms on thighs, head dipped. Luca striding behind the mahogany desk, fingers drumming on his waist holster. Bianca sitting in the high-backed chair, face empty—marble carved by loss and betrayal and denial. "I was telling the truth," Adraine panted, husky. "Sophia is her sister. You had to know this. Before you married her, before you brought her into a slaughterhouse." Luca stopped pacing. His liquid fire eyes concentrated today. "Think the truth will set you free?" he derided. "After all, after getting us into a trap… after calling Sophia your friend just now?" "She lied to me too!" Adraine spun about, rain and tears streaming down her face. "I did try to escape. I did try to save you as an atonement." Bianca stood up, back tense and lean as a lioness on the hunt. "You didn't rescue us. You brought war to our doorstep. You had our people killed." Adraine gulped. "I gave you Raphael. I gave you the drone coordinates. I gave you her truth— "You've given us shadows and blood," Luca cut in. "Everything you say is a lie. All the truths that drop from your mouth defile the air." Adraine shifted her attention to Bianca. "Please. I am still your cousin. Sophia and I grew up sister and sister. I know Sophia. I know how she thinks. I can help you wrap this one up." Bianca answered quietly, but her message was bellowed louder than words. "No. You don't get to help us clean up loose ends. You're half responsible for us being here at all." Adraine recoiled, having sensed the mood in the room had shifted beyond recovery. "You're not actually going to. kill me." Luca drew his silenced pistol and put it down cautiously on the desktop between them. "We should've done it that night of the ambush." "I saved your son!" Adraine yelled. "I told you she would strike here!" And you led her hand to the knife," Bianca yelled. Her eyes were burning. "You think because we're family, you'll be released? Sophia's family too. But the line's been crossed." Adraine backed away toward the fire. "No. You don't need me. Please, Luca. I can fix this." Luca's hand inched ahead, slowly, slowly, irresistibly towards the gun. He hadn't even touched it. "You've made your choice, Adraine," he said to her. "Now we're making ours." Bianca turned around. She could not bear the last glance on her cousin's face. "No! Oh, please!" Adraine screamed, rushing towards her. "Bianca, don't let him—" The silencer spoke. The body crumpled like a doll whose strings are severed. Bianca didn't stir. Luca came near, gazed down at Adraine's lifeless body. "No more distractions. No more traitors." Bianca nodded once, and then turned to him. "Now it's just us. Against her." Luca grasped her hand. "You ready? 'I've been ready my whole life," she whispered. They stood in silence for a moment longer, as the fire crackled behind them and the rain tapped its endless rhythm on the glass. Then they fled tail between their legs and departed—the last traitor in their wake. --- The charter aircraft thrummed happily as it sliced through the clouds and landed on the Croatian coast. Luca sat beside Bianca, their hands clasped, gripping the armrest between them. They were clad in black tactical clothing, their weapons laid out before them like offerings to an angry deity. Raphael stood before them, helmet buckled over the back of his shoulders. "Intel says Sophia's castle is heavily guarded. She's preparing for something… but not for the two of you. Not for the state you're in." Bianca stared out the window, her voice flat. "She has no idea what we've become." Luca's face twisted into a resolute scowl. "She will." Raphael inclined his head. "I've brought the entire strike team. Thirty of my best. You call the shot-we burn her palace to ashes." "No," Bianca replied, surprising them both. Raphael's brows leapt upwards. "No?" I want to be the one to kill her," she told him. "I want to see my eyes when she's dead." Luca grinned at her, little and black and approving. "You'll get your chance. I'll arrange it. Sophia's fortress was an eyesore upon the cliffs—a black spire and stone which appeared deformed, veiled in a shroud of metal and desolation. A monastic building that had been left deserted, it now fell to a gutter of deceit and poison. The group arrived in darkness. Raphael told the outside group in to strike the east watchtower. Bianca and Luca went in with two of the oldest, longest-serving of the guards through the network of underground tunnels that existed within the wine cellars. Luca bowed and whispered, "Keep in mind, she will try to twist the truth again. She will use her agony as a tool," as they moved through the torchlit, dark passages. 'I know," Bianca replied. 'But I've buried pain before. Hers will be no different." They surfaced inside the fortress silently, like ghosts. The guards were too focused on the east breach to notice the shadows creeping up the spiral staircase toward Sophia's throne room. When the final door loomed above them—iron and bearing the Monticelli family crest—Bianca hesitated. "This is it." Luca dropped to a crouch. "We go together." She nodded, drew her gun, and kicked open the door. The throne room was chilly, dark. Candles flickered on wrought iron candelabras. And on a curved silver throne, sitting like a queen, was Sophia. She wore midnight silk, the dark hair spilling down her back like a snake. Her eyes—Bianca's mirror—twinkled with bitter laughter. "Ahhh," she breathed. "The bride and groom have arrived." Luca drew his gun at the ready. Sophia did not blink. "Do it. Kill me. You'll never discover the rest. Never discover what father did to me. What mother stole from me. Never discover why your whole empire was founded on a lie." Bianca approached, her face empty. "We've planted enough secrets. You can join the others." Sophia scoffed at her. "You didn't have to fear anything. Love. Power. Family. They abandoned me to die on the street." You might have come to us," Bianca told her. "You could have been better." Sophia's gaze turned cold. "I don't want to be included in your world. I want to claim it." She lashed out. The sisters fought—Bianca deflecting a dagger on her forearm, knee to Sophia's ribs. The women spun, swords flashing, fury fueling each strike. Luca threw fire Sophia's way but stifled his flames. This was Bianca's fight. "You're weak!" Sophia screamed. "You always were! You let them use you as their puppet!" Bianca had her pressed against the wall, knife to Sophia's throat. "And you let revenge be your god." Sophia spat in her face. "Do it, then. Kill me. Be the monster you said you'd never be." Bianca hesitated. Then Luca stepped forward, took Bianca's hand, and spoke low, "This isn't what you become. It's what you fight for." Bianca's eyes iced. She shoved the dagger into Sophia's heart. Sophia's eyes burst open in shock, not pain. "You… you finally made a choice." Bianca drew a breath low, "I chose the future." Sophia fell, blood spilling in a dark circle around her. --- Later, when the fortress was burning and the flag of Monticelli waved high over the smoldering wreckage, Bianca and Luca stood on the cliff watching the dawn. "No more secrets," Luca whispered. "No more ghosts," Bianca replied. They gazed at one another. "Marry me tomorrow," Luca said. "No politics. No empire. Just us." Bianca laughed, eyes shining with peace for the first time in years. "Tomorrow."