FAZER LOGINMarco POV
"Hold still. If I prick you with this needle, Marco, don't blame my hands."
Valentina stood inches from my chest, a row of brass tailor's pins held between her lips, her dark hair pinned loosely at the nape of her neck. The morning sun streamed through the high arched windows, catching the fine dust suspended in the air. I held my breath, every muscle in my torso rigid as her cool,
POV: Marco"Prosecution," Judge Sterling’s voice was as sharp as broken glass. "Where is your evidence?"Hayes stood frozen, looking back and forth between Derek’s blank screen and the empty wall monitors. "Your Honor... we... we request a forty-eight-hour continuance to restore our data infrastructure—""You brought a capital racketeering charge before this court based on digital evidence that does not exist on your system?" Sterling’s face was dark with fury. "This trial has been delayed for weeks. You assured this court that your evidence was ironclad and ready for presentation today.""Your Honor, we’ve been compromised! A cyber attack—" Derek yelled, stepping out from behind the desk, pointing a trembling finger at me. "He did this! The Ricci family hacked the federal grid!""Agent Derek, sit down or I will have you held in contempt!" Sterling slammed his gavel down, the
POV: MarcoThe polished mahogany desk in the federal courthouse holding cell felt slick under my palms. Outside the heavy oak door, the quiet rumble of Florence’s legal district hummed through the stone walls, but inside, the air was dead and stagnant.Across the table, Agent Derek paced like a caged animal. He didn't look at me. His eyes were fixed on the screen of his ruggedized military-grade laptop, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against his thigh. He had the arrogant posture of a man who believed he had just put the final nail in the coffin of the Ricci dynasty."Five minutes, Marco," Derek said, his voice dripping with triumphant satisfaction. "The judge is taking the bench. The prosecutor has the digital drive linked directly to the DOJ central server mirror. Every wiretap, every off-book transaction, every single bloody command you thought you buried in the cellar—it’s all about to be entered
Carmela POVThe wet, rhythmic slapping of bare skin echoed off the vaulted brick walls of the subterranean wine cellar, punctuated by gasps, desperate moans, and the frantic creak of an old wooden worktable.I stood motionless at the base of the stone staircase, wrapped in my damp cashmere coat, the chill of the spring rain still clinging to my skin.Down the dark corridor, framed by two archways of dusty Chianti barrels, my husband was pressed against the rough masonry. His hands gripped the waist of a younger woman with brutal urgency, her linen maid’s dress hitched high around her hips, the fabric bunched and wrinkled. Her dark hair spilled wild over her bare shoulders as she cried out his name—not Signor Ricci, but Giancarlo."Faster, Giancarlo... please..." Elena gasped, her
Carmela POVThe antique grandfather clock in the corner of my private study chimed three times, its steady pendulum swinging behind stained glass. Outside, the Tuscan hills were blanketed in thick fog, hiding the silver olive trees in darkness. The estate was dead quiet, save for the rhythmic patter of cold rain against the tall arched windows, but inside my mind, every gear was turning with mechanical precision.I sat at my mahogany desk, staring at a burner phone resting beside a glass of undisturbed Chianti. Power in Tuscany was never maintained by brute force alone; it was preserved through forethought, leverage, and the cold willingness to cut away weak limbs before they rotted the tree. Marco thought he was playing a grand game of sacrifice. He truly believed his pathetic little deal with the federal prosecutor would earn him redemption. He was a fool. He had inherited his father’s soft heart and emotional blindness, leaving him entirely unprepared for the real
Marco POVThe heavy iron door of the holding room slid open, the sound echoing off the bare concrete like a gunshot.I didn't expect another visitor so soon. I sat on the edge of the steel cot, my wrists still marked by the red, chafed bands of the handcuffs Agent Derek’s guards had removed for the hour.Luca walked in.He looked exhausted. His charcoal suit was rumpled, his silk tie loosened at his throat, and dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes. He didn't sit down immediately. He stood near the reinforced door, watching the federal guard step outside before the heavy lock clicked shut.He pulled the metal chair back and sat down, resting his forearms on his knees, leaning in close so his voice wouldn't carry."The federal guard at the perimeter took twenty minutes to clear my badge," Luca muttered, his voice raspy. "Derek has this place locked down like a fortress.""Why are you here, Luca?" I asked, my voice flat. "If Carmela fi
Renzo POVThe small espresso machine in my office sputtered, dripping dark coffee into a porcelain cup, but my eyes were locked on the muted television screen mounted in the corner.The red ticker at the bottom of the RAI News 24 broadcast flamed across the screen in bold white letters:BREAKING: MARCO RICCI SURRENDERS TO FEDERAL AUTHORITIES IN FLORENCE — COOPERATION IN RICCI SYNDICATE INVESTIGATION CONFIRMED.I stared at the anchor's polished, unbothered face as images of the Santa Maria Nuova hospital entrance flashed on the screen.Marco Ricci. Surrendering?I grabbed my coat off the back of the chair and dialed an unlisted internal line on my encrypted phone. The call connected on the second ring."Draghi," a sharp, harried voice answered. Special Agent Draghi—the regional lead in Rome."It's Renzo," I said, stepping away from the desk, my eyes still fixed on the news footage. "What the hell is going on in Florence? The news sa
Valentina POVI woke up cold.That was the first thing. The cold, and then the ceiling—wrong color, wrong height—and then the smell of a room that wasn't mine. My body understood before my mind did. I was already sitting up, pulling the bedsheet tight to my chest, and counting everything that was w
Valentina POV "You're going to laugh at my uncle tonight," Marco said.I didn't look up from the mirror. "I never laugh at your uncle.""You always laugh at him," Marco said, adjusting his sleeves in the reflection behind me. "He tells the same story about the horse every single time, and you laug
Valentina POV I stopped scrubbing, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. I looked up, squinting against the bright Sicilian sun. "Where?" He raised a hand, pointing vaguely at the wet stone directly beneath my left knee. "There. Right in the corner by the riser. It's dark." I shifted my weigh
Valentina POVThe man opened the door before my hand could even reach the wood.He stood flat-footed in the frame, blocking the light from the hallway. He didn’t say hello. Instead, his eyes dropped to my boots, tracked slowly up my faded jeans, and lingered on my flat stomach before finally settlin







