The Marcello Heiress

The plane to Italy landed in the afternoon.

Camille Vance walked through the airport terminal slowly, sunglasses covering her eyes and one hand pulling a black suitcase behind her.

She looked calm.

Too calm for someone who had just been given a completely new identity.

For the next few months, Camille Vance was dead.

At least, that was what the Shadow Organisation wanted everyone to believe.

Her old name could no longer exist.

Her old life had to disappear.

And from this moment onward, she was Vivienne Marcello.

Camille's eyes moved across the crowded airport.

People rushed past her with their luggage. Families reunited after long trips. Businessmen spoke on their phones while walking quickly toward the exits.

Nobody paid much attention to her.

That was exactly how she wanted it.

She adjusted her sunglasses and continued walking until something caught her attention.

A man in a black suit was standing near the entrance.

He was an older man with neatly combed grey hair, and he was holding a card.

VIVIENNE MARCELLO

Camille stopped.

For a few seconds, she simply stared at the name.

Vivienne Marcello.

Her new identity.

The identity that was supposed to give her access to one of the most powerful families in Italy.

And, more importantly, access to the Rodriguez family.

Camille walked toward the man.

The moment he noticed her, his expression changed.

He looked at her carefully.

Then at the name on the card.

Then back at her.

There was obvious confusion on his face.

"Miss Marcello?"

Camille removed her sunglasses.

"Good afternoon, sir."

Her words were polite, but her tone carried no warmth.

The old butler straightened immediately.

"Good afternoon, Miss Marcello. I am sorry for the delay."

Camille said nothing.

The butler cleared his throat.

"Sir was busy and couldn't find time to come and pick you up himself."

Again, Camille gave him nothing.

No anger.

No disappointment.

Not even surprise.

The butler had expected some kind of reaction.

After all, Vivienne Marcello was supposedly returning home after years abroad.

Most daughters would have expected their father to be waiting for them.

But Camille wasn't Vivienne.

She had spent years learning how to control her emotions.

A person's face could betray them before their mouth ever did.

She wasn't going to make that mistake now.

"It's fine," she finally replied.

The butler nodded and took her suitcase.

Camille followed him toward the car.

As they walked, she quietly studied her surroundings.

The exits.

The security cameras.

The people around her.

The possible threats.

Her agent instincts never switched off.

Even in a new country.

Even with a new name.

Especially with a new name.

The drive to the Marcello Estate was suffocatingly quiet.

Camille sat in the back seat, looking through the window.

Italy was beautiful.

But she wasn't here to admire it.

Her mind was already going through the information she had received from the Shadow Organisation.

Christian Marcello.

Her supposed father.

Bella Marcello.

Her stepmother.

Stella Marcello.

Her stepsister.

And somewhere beyond them was the Rodriguez family.

The people she actually needed to reach.

The Marcello family was one of the most powerful families in Italy. Their wealth, influence and connections stretched far beyond what an ordinary person could imagine.

That was why the Shadow Organisation had chosen this identity.

Vivienne Marcello had been sent abroad at the age of five.

According to the information Camille had been given, her mother had died when she was young.

Afterward, Christian Marcello had remarried Bella.

Vivienne had been sent away soon after.

Years had passed.

Now, she was finally returning.

It was the perfect identity.

Nobody would expect the real Vivienne to return as a trained agent.

Nobody would expect her to be investigating anyone.

And nobody would expect her to be dangerous.

Camille leaned her head against the window.

She had no idea where the original Vivienne Marcello was now.

That wasn't her concern.

For as long as she was carrying the identity, she would live as Vivienne.

She would smile when necessary.

Lie when necessary.

And destroy every obstacle that stood between her and the mission.

The car eventually slowed down.

Camille looked ahead.

The Marcello Estate appeared behind a large iron gate.

The estate was enormous.

Tall trees surrounded the property, hiding most of the house from view.

The building itself looked like something from another era.

Elegant.

Expensive.

Untouchable.

Old money was practically written across every part of it.

The gates opened.

The car drove inside.

Camille watched everything carefully.

The location of the guards.

The cameras.

The distance between the main building and the entrance.

The possible escape routes.

She memorised everything without making it obvious.

The car finally stopped.

The butler stepped out and opened the door for her.

Camille slowly stepped outside.

She looked toward the mansion.

Nobody was waiting.

Not one person.

No father.

No stepmother.

No sister.

Not even a servant standing at the door to welcome her.

Camille's lips curved into a faint smirk.

"As expected."

She picked up her handbag.

"Not valued at all."

She walked toward the entrance.

Every step was deliberate.

She didn't hurry.

She didn't hesitate.

When she entered the mansion, she immediately began observing everything.

The large chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

The expensive paintings.

The staircase leading to the upper floor.

The doors along the hallway.

The positions of the servants.

Everything went into her memory.

An agent didn't simply enter a building.

An agent studied it.

Camille continued forward.

Then she heard voices coming from the living room.

A woman's voice.

Young.

Sweet.

Almost too sweet.

"Dad, I'm really excited to meet big sister."

Camille slowed down.

"I wonder if she'll be excited to see me too."

There was a smile in the girl's voice.

But Camille could hear something underneath it.

Jealousy.

She stepped into the living room.

Three people were sitting together.

A middle-aged man sat in the centre.

Christian Marcello.

Beside him was his wife, Bella.

Across from them sat their daughter, Stella.

Stella Marcello looked beautiful and perfectly dressed.

Her posture was confident.

Her expression was sweet.

But her eyes changed the moment she saw Camille.

For a brief second, surprise flashed across her face.

Then it disappeared.

Camille recognised her immediately.

Stella Marcello.

One year younger than the original Vivienne.

According to the information from the Shadow Organisation, Stella had grown up receiving all the attention that should have belonged to Vivienne.

Camille's eyes briefly moved toward Christian.

The man barely looked at her.

His expression was indifferent.

No excitement.

No emotion.

Nothing that resembled a father seeing his daughter after years apart.

Interesting.

Camille almost laughed.

So this was the famous Marcello family.

Stella stood up.

Her smile returned.

"Big sister."

Camille looked at her.

Stella walked closer.

"I've heard so much about you. I was really looking forward to finally meeting—"

"Don't wonder too much."

Camille's cold voice interrupted her.

The smile on Stella's face froze.

The entire room suddenly became quiet.

Camille stepped closer.

Her eyes remained fixed on Stella.

"I'm not excited to meet you at all."