Elias had made his move.Now it was time for Camilla to make hers.The morning after the estate breach, the Romano compound was under lockdown. Extra guards patrolled the grounds, surveillance drones hovered above, and the war room operated on a 24-hour cycle.But the real weapon wasn’t steel or bullets.It was information.Camilla stood before the estate’s digital command screen, the flickering lights of newsfeeds and social channels reflecting in her eyes.“We’ve compiled every traceable link to Elias,” Isadora said, handing her a dossier. “Old aliases. Known associates. Shell companies. He’s been careful—but not perfect.”Camilla flipped through the photos and documents. One picture stood out—a surveillance still of Elias exiting a black car in Venice three years ago. His face was mostly obscured, but the distinctive burn scar across his jaw gave him away.“Is this enough?” Camilla asked.Isadora’s smile was razor-sharp. “With the right spin? It’s more than enough.”Riccardo watche
The silence was worse than the storm.For forty-eight hours, Elias vanished.No sightings. No communications. No retaliations.The city’s criminal underbelly buzzed with paranoia. The sudden vacuum left by his absence felt unnatural—too quiet, too clean, like the pause before a predator pounced.Camilla didn’t trust it.From the second she opened her eyes that morning, something inside her coiled with unease. The day felt off. The air was too still. Even the guards at the Romano estate walked a little faster, checked corners more carefully.Riccardo noticed it too. He sat in the war room, flanked by Luca and Isadora, his posture rigid as intel streamed in from every contact.“Nothing,” Isadora muttered. “No chatter, no encrypted signals, no dead drops. It’s like he blinked out of existence.”“He didn’t,” Camilla said, pacing near the monitors. “He’s waiting. Watching. Planning something.”Riccardo’s gaze sharpened. “And we’re going to find out what.”By noon, the first sign arrived—wr
War had a rhythm.A pulse that beat beneath the city’s skin—throbbing louder each day as Riccardo and Camilla moved their pieces into place. Every phone call, every coded message, every silent nod across a room was another step toward a confrontation that couldn’t be avoided.But in war, it wasn’t just bullets that killed.It was trust.And trust, Camilla was learning, was far more dangerous.The Falcone estate turned into a hive of controlled chaos. Teams of mercenaries were rotated in every six hours, supplies stocked in hidden compartments, escape routes secured. Luca worked double shifts, barking orders as if preparing for a siege.In the war room, Camilla stood before a wall of digital projections—Elias’s known associates, money trails, warehouses, shipping containers flagged for inspection. A red string web of everything he touched.Riccardo entered quietly and moved beside her. “You’ve built a map of his empire.”“I’ve built a noose,” she corrected, her eyes never leaving the b
The cracked chess piece sat on Camilla’s desk like a taunt.She hadn’t moved it since last night. Every time she glanced at it, her stomach coiled. Not out of fear—but fury. Elias had found her weakness, or at least what he thought was weakness.Emotion.Memory.The past.She swept the queen into a drawer and locked it. The past would have to wait—because the present was on fire.Camilla descended into the security wing just as Luca stormed down the hallway, a file clenched in one hand.He spotted her and shook his head. “You’re not going to like this.”“That’s becoming a pattern,” Camilla muttered.He handed her the file. “We found something in Marcus’s personal effects. A burner phone. Wiped mostly clean—except for one outgoing number.”“Let me guess. Elias.”Luca’s jaw tightened. “No. Worse. It’s a number linked to the courthouse district. And we traced the name on the contact to someone unexpected.”He opened a photo.Camilla’s heart stuttered.“No…” she whispered.The picture sho
The Falcone estate was quieter than usual.Not silent—never that. But quieter. As if the walls were holding their breath. As if the house itself sensed the tension threading its halls like a live wire.Camilla felt it the moment she stepped out of her room. A hush in the corridors. Eyes that watched and then looked away too quickly. Something was brewing.And she needed to know what.She found Riccardo in the study, the door half-shut, voices leaking through like heat through a crack. She paused just long enough to hear two words—blood oath—before she pushed the door open and walked in.Riccardo was behind the desk, Marco and Isadora standing nearby. They didn’t flinch at her entrance.“Am I interrupting?” Camilla asked, eyes narrowing.Riccardo’s gaze met hers, calm and unreadable. “Not at all. You’re part of this now.”“Part of what?”Isadora stepped aside so Camilla could move closer. On the desk lay an old leather-bound book, its edges singed and worn. In the center was a symbol s
The city of shadows stretched out before Camilla as she stood at the balcony, watching the lights twinkle against the dark sky. The evening had fallen into a quiet hum, but inside her mind, it was anything but calm.Since her arrival in Riccardo’s world, nothing had been simple. Every day had brought new challenges—new alliances to navigate, new enemies to face, and the constant pressure of proving herself worthy of her place by Riccardo’s side. She could feel the weight of the eyes on her, both allies and adversaries, all waiting for her to stumble.But Camilla wouldn’t. She couldn’t.Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, steady and deliberate. She turned, already knowing who it was before he entered her line of sight. Riccardo.He stood in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the light, his sharp eyes studying her. “You’re still awake,” he observed, his voice low, but there was an edge to it, a slight tension she hadn’t noticed earlier.“I c
The night air was cool, the moonlight casting an eerie glow on the city streets as Camilla walked beside Riccardo, her heels clicking against the pavement in a rhythm that matched her thoughts: calculated, determined, never wavering. Despite the tension in the air, despite the countless games that had been played, one thing had become clear to her: Riccardo’s world was both a battlefield and a throne room—and she wasn’t merely a bystander anymore.She was an integral part of it.“Everything went smoothly today,” Riccardo said, his voice cutting through the silence between them. His tone was measured, but there was an undercurrent of something darker there, something she had come to recognize in him—a predatory instinct, the calm before a storm.“Did it?” Camilla replied, glancing up at him. “Because it didn’t feel smooth to me.”Riccardo didn’t look at her but could feel the weight of her gaze on him. He knew how her mind worked, how she dissected every interaction, every exchange in
The sound of the door slamming open reverberated through the room. Riccardo stood at the center, his posture as rigid as a statue, his face an unreadable mask of fury. The tension in the air was thick, oppressive, like the calm before a storm.Camilla stood at the window, watching the city unfold beneath her. The lights of the skyline twinkled like a million stars, a silent reminder of the power and chaos that thrived beneath the surface. She had felt it, too—this deep, unsettling shift in the world she had stepped into. Everything was about to change, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.“Riccardo, what’s happening?” she asked, her voice steady, though the unease in her chest was growing.Riccardo didn’t answer immediately. He crossed the room to the bar, pouring himself a drink, his movements slow, deliberate, as if every action required careful consideration. He finally looked up at her, his dark eyes like a tempest that could swallow everything in its path.“They’re coming
Camilla’s mind was set. Marco had betrayed her in the most brutal way possible, and she wouldn’t let it slide. She had built this empire from nothing, fought tooth and nail to gain a seat at the table, and now Marco wanted to tear it all down. Not on her watch.The night was her ally as she moved through the estate, her footsteps silent, a sharp contrast to the roaring storm inside her. The estate, once her sanctuary, felt like a cage now—its lavish halls and gilded corners were a reminder of everything that had been built on lies. Marco’s lies.She didn’t know where Riccardo had gone, but right now, she didn’t care. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone. She had always been able to rely on herself, and she would do so again.Her steps carried her to the library, where she’d spent countless hours in the past, pouring over documents, making plans, learning how to navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld. The scent of aged paper and leather filled the air as she
Camilla’s mind raced as she stared at Riccardo, the weight of his words sinking in. She had trusted him, believed in him, and now he was telling her she had no idea who the real enemy was. The room felt suffocating, the air thick with tension as she searched his face for any hint of deception. But his expression was unreadable—cold, almost distant.“What are you talking about?” Camilla asked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and anger. “Who’s been pulling the strings? Cane’s been our enemy from the start, Riccardo. Who else could there be?”Riccardo took a slow step toward her, his gaze unwavering. “You still don’t see it, do you?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “The person you’ve been fighting against all this time wasn’t just Cane. It was someone closer to you—someone you thought was on your side.”Camilla’s heart skipped a beat, the blood draining from her face. A thousand possibilities flashed through her mind, but one name stood out. She tried to shake the thought away, bu
Camilla’s pulse pounded in her ears as she made her way down the corridor, the weight of betrayal heavy in her chest. She could feel the walls closing in on her, the estate that she had once ruled now feeling like a prison. Her empire—her hard-won kingdom—was under siege, and the very people she had entrusted with its protection were the ones who had turned against her.The thought churned in her stomach, twisting in knots of rage and disbelief. How long had they been working with Cane? How many times had they smiled in her face, whispered loyalty in her ear, all the while plotting her downfall? The question burned in her mind, but it was a luxury she couldn’t afford to dwell on.She reached the estate’s grand hall, where she knew the remaining loyal men were holding the line. She had to act fast—there was no room for hesitation now. With Cane’s forces infiltrating the compound, every second counted. But the betrayal that lurked within her own ranks threatened to unravel everything.L
The battle for the estate had turned into a brutal, bloody warzone. The sounds of gunfire and explosions filled the air, echoing throughout the sprawling grounds. Camilla stood at the heart of it all, moving with precision, her mind calculating every step as though she were playing a high-stakes game of chess.Her team was well-prepared—trained to respond to any threat—but this was different. Cane’s forces were relentless, and his men had infiltrated more than one layer of security. It wasn’t just an attack—it was a full-scale assault, one meant to crush her and her empire.As the fight raged on, Camilla’s thoughts remained sharp. She wasn’t just defending the estate; she was fighting for her life, for everything she had worked for, for the future she’d been building. She couldn’t afford to lose—not when everything was on the line.Riccardo had been eerily silent throughout the chaos. She hadn’t seen him since the initial attack had started. Camilla’s gut twisted in anticipation as th
The battle at the warehouse had been won, but Camilla knew that it wasn’t a victory. It was merely the opening salvo in a war that was only just beginning. Cane wouldn’t take this defeat lightly—she knew him well enough by now. He was ruthless, strategic, and calculating, and he would retaliate in ways she couldn’t yet predict.The tension in the air around the estate was palpable. Every person working under her had seen the stakes increase, and Camilla could feel the weight of their expectations. She wasn’t just fighting for herself anymore—she was fighting for everyone who had put their faith in her. And the consequences of losing were too great to fathom.Riccardo had been strangely quiet since the warehouse attack. Camilla had noticed it, though she didn’t comment on it. He had become more withdrawn, even as he continued his regular business dealings. She wondered if it was his own way of dealing with the escalating conflict, or if there was something more—something she hadn’t yet
The weeks that followed were filled with tension. Camilla could feel the undercurrent of change rippling through the empire, as if every decision she made was building toward a storm. The whispers of Darius Cane’s involvement were growing louder, and every night she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what his next move would be. It wasn’t just about power anymore—it was about survival.Riccardo had kept his distance at times, his instincts telling him to give Camilla space to learn the ropes of her new role. He could see her growing stronger with every passing day. She no longer hesitated, no longer second-guessed herself. She was becoming the leader he knew she could be, but it also made him nervous. The more confident she became, the more dangerous she was to the world around her.But Riccardo wasn’t the only one watching. Darius Cane was out there, lurking, waiting for the right moment to strike.Camilla was seated in her private office, a glass of red wine resting on the
The morning after Bellamy’s death, the world still turned as if nothing had changed.But Camilla knew better. The game had shifted. The board had been rearranged. And now, the question wasn’t whether she would survive—but what she would become.The vineyard, once a symbol of secrecy and shadows, now stood at the heart of an empire reborn. Its rolling hills, rich with life, reflected the promise of a future yet to be written.Camilla stood at the window of her office, looking out over the land she had inherited. Riccardo had given her the space to grow, to build something lasting. The air smelled of grapes, of wealth, of power.But it also smelled of potential.Riccardo entered the room behind her, his presence as commanding as ever, though his gaze softened when it landed on her.“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice low, as if daring the question to be answered.“Different,” Camilla replied. She didn’t turn to face him, still lost in the view. “I thought I’d feel lighter, but there
The first rule of war:Take out the enemy’s eyes before you strike.Camilla understood that now better than ever.Bellamy still had resources. Still had men, money, secrets tucked away in vaults no one could trace. But he couldn’t protect what he couldn’t see coming.And he would never see her coming.The next morning, the vineyard buzzed with movement.Luca compiled a master list of Bellamy’s offshore accounts, hidden properties, and blackmail material. Each file was a dagger waiting to be driven into his heart.“We hit his accounts first,” Luca explained, eyes sharp behind his glasses. “Freeze them. Seize them. Starve him of power.”Riccardo studied the list grimly. “How long until he notices?”Luca gave a humorless smile. “He’ll feel it by sunset.”Camilla leaned over the table, tracing Bellamy’s empire with her finger like a general marking battle lines.“And after that?”Riccardo’s mouth curved into a brutal smile.“Then we take the rest.”By noon, Bellamy’s personal accounts in
The old rules didn’t apply anymore.No more silent deals in smoke-filled rooms.No more threats hidden behind fake smiles.Camilla was about to wage a different kind of war—a public one. One fought in headlines, courtrooms, and boardrooms.A war where the truth was the most dangerous weapon of all.And Riccardo?He was ready to burn the world down beside her.The team assembled in the vineyard’s underground command room—a space Riccardo had renovated years ago for emergencies exactly like this.The room buzzed with low conversation as Marco pinned a map to the wall, lines connecting names and faces.Luca typed furiously at a bank of laptops, hacking into Bellamy’s inner circle, compiling files, cross-referencing accounts.Camilla stood at the center of it all, her presence magnetic.She was no longer the girl who had been sold off like a piece of property.She was the woman plotting the downfall of kings.“We have three major points of attack,” Luca announced. “The media, his finances