Getting Answers

The revelation was clear—Naples hadn’t acted on their own. Someone had orchestrated the disruption, calculating every hesitation, every delay, pushing at the edges of our power to test our response.

They had their answer now.

Leonardo and I didn’t hesitate. The war had already begun—we were simply making the first open move.

Leonardo’s study had become our war room, filled with maps, documents, lists of names—potential threats, uncertain allies, weak links that could be exploited.

I traced a finger over one of the routes that had been targeted first. “The Cambinos made noise. Naples stalled deals. But neither of them acted alone.”

Leonardo poured himself a drink, watching me carefully. “Whoever’s pulling the strings thought they could stay hidden. They were wrong.”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs, letting the silk fabric of my dress shift slightly with the movement. “You sound amused.”

His smirk was slight but noticeable. “I like a good hunt.”

I arched a brow. “And I assume you’ve decided who gets to lead this hunt?”

Leonardo took a sip of his drink before answering. “I think we both know you won’t take orders.”

I laughed softly, reaching for my own glass. “Smart man.”

He watched me for a moment, the air between us shifting slightly. Not just tension. Not just strategy. Something else.

“You enjoy this too much,” he mused, amusement laced beneath his tone.

I tilted my head slightly, allowing the cool glass to linger against my lips before I spoke. “Enjoyment makes life interesting, doesn’t it?”

Leonardo chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Then let’s make this war unforgettable.”

We didn’t announce our retaliation. We let them feel it.

The first step was eliminating their hidden alliances—cutting off supply lines, exposing weak partnerships, ensuring every silent supporter had to make a choice: loyalty or survival.

A dinner meeting was arranged with Ricci, the man who had once questioned my authority. He had connections—ones that had gone unquestioned for too long.

Leonardo and I arrived together, every detail calculated. My dress—a deep crimson, striking yet refined. His suit—perfectly tailored, power in simplicity.

The dinner proceeded as expected, pleasant conversation masking the inevitable storm that was brewing. And then, as the glasses were refilled, Leonardo set his drink down with deliberate precision.

“Ricci,” he murmured, his voice calm yet commanding. “Tell me—who warned Naples about us?”

Ricci stiffened, but he recovered quickly, offering a practiced smile. “I wouldn’t know.”

I chuckled softly, swirling my wine. “Come now, Ricci. We all know you have ears in places most don’t.”

His gaze shifted between us, calculating. “And what if I don’t answer?”

Leonardo smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Then you lose your place at this table.”

Silence. A decision hung in the air.

Ricci exhaled, fingers grazing the stem of his glass. “The movements started with Rome. Quiet discussions. Unofficial warnings.”

Rome.

I met Leonardo’s gaze, the realization unspoken but understood.

Rome had always been neutral. Until now.

The conversation with Ricci had been enlightening, but it also changed the scope of the conflict.

Rome wasn’t just a player in this war—they were an orchestrator.

Leonardo and I returned to his estate, the weight of the revelation settling between us.

I paced the length of the room, the silk hem of my dress brushing against the marble floors with each step. “Rome hasn’t made direct moves against us before.”

Leonardo watched me, leaning against the edge of his desk. “Which means someone new is leading them.”

I stopped, tilting my head slightly. “Someone ambitious.”

His smirk returned, slower this time. “Sound familiar?”

I arched a brow, stepping closer. “Are you comparing them to me, Leonardo?”

He exhaled, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Only in recklessness.”

I placed my hands on the desk beside him, leaning in just enough to shorten the space between us. “And yet, here we are—married, ruling this empire together.”

Leonardo’s fingers grazed the edge of his glass, deliberate, slow. “Tell me, Xena. Do you think they’ll underestimate you as much as Ricci did?”

I let my smirk mirror his. “I hope they do. That makes it more fun.”

His chuckle was low, rich, the kind that lingered in the air. “I knew I married the right woman.”

The tension was thick now, lingering longer than before, heavier in its presence.

And neither of us were making an effort to end it.

With the confirmation that Rome had been pulling the strings, our strategy shifted.

It was no longer just about eliminating hesitant allies.

It was about confronting the architect of this war.

And when we arrived in Rome days later, ready to make our presence known, the city greeted us not with hostility, but with anticipation.

Because they knew.

They had been waiting for us.

And they thought they were prepared.

They were wrong.