Snow continued to fall outside, covering the streets in a silent white blanket. Inside the old cabin, the air felt heavier than the storm itself.
Luca stood near the window, staring at the endless snowfall. The truth he had just learned echoed in his mind like a gunshot that refused to fade.
"It can't be," he muttered.
Behind him, Adrian leaned against the wooden table, arms crossed. His expression was calm, but his eyes held something darker.
"It is," Adrian replied quietly. "The attack fifteen years ago… it wasn't random."
Luca turned sharply. "Then who ordered it?"
For a moment, Adrian said nothing. The silence between them stretched, filled only by the whisper of wind outside.
Finally, Adrian spoke.
"Your father knew."
Luca's heart skipped.
"No," he said immediately. "My father would never—"
"He didn't plan it," Adrian interrupted. "But he knew it was coming… and he let it happen."
The words hit harder than any bullet.
Luca stepped back, his breath uneven. The snow outside looked peaceful, but inside him, everything was collapsing.
"Why would he do that?" Luca whispered.
Adrian looked toward the fire burning in the corner.
"Because the man who was supposed to die that night…" he paused, his voice lowering, "…was me."
The room fell into silence again.
Luca stared at Adrian, realization slowly creeping across his face.
"That means…" he began.
Adrian nodded once.
"The first assassination attempt wasn't meant for your family."
His gaze hardened.
"It was meant for the heir of the Neon Syndicate."
A sudden sound broke the silence.
Crunch.
Footsteps in the snow outside.
Both men froze.
Adrian reached for the gun hidden under the table.
"They found us."
Luca's pulse raced. "Who?"
Adrian's expression turned cold.
"The people who don't want the truth to survive."
The cabin door handle slowly began to turn.
And then—
Bang.
The door exploded open.