Chapter Six: First day On The War Front

Sofia's POV 

 It was Monday, I was ready, I was going to the war front, I can't afford to be unprepared. I arrived fifteen minutes early. In this place, lateness wasn’t just unprofessional, and for me, on my first day? it would be cancellation. Suicide. The glass towers of Moretti Global Holdings gleamed against the morning sun, tall enough to scrape the sky, cold enough to mirror the steel beating at its core, soundless, almost suffocating. I stood alone in the mirrored box, studying myself, searching for cracks. None. I wouldn’t allow it. My heart might have been racing beneath my ribs, but my expression was ice.

When the doors slid open, I inhaled once, steady, before stepping onto the floor that would become my battlefield.

Today wasn’t just the start of a job. It was the first move in a war I’d been planning for twelve years

A woman in a crisp gray suit was waiting for me just outside the elevator, all polished smiles and rehearsed warmth. “Miss Martins? Welcome to Moretti Global Holdings. I’m Maria from HR, I’ll be showing you around today.”

Her tone was professional, but her eyes skimmed over me with quiet evaluation, the way people measure what you’re worth before deciding how to treat you. I’d grown used to that look.

We walked past glass-walled offices and long stretches of polished corridors where the sound of heels echoed like gunfire. Everything here screamed precision, wealth, control. Even the employees seemed trained, men and women moving quickly, dressed sharp, no wasted motion, no unnecessary chatter.

“Everyone here respects efficiency,” Maria continued, almost as if it were a warning. “Mr. Moretti values competence above all else.”

I nodded once, absorbing every word, but my attention was elsewhere. Security cameras in every corner. Card scanners on restricted doors. Two guards posted discreetly by a stairwell. My mind was already sketching layouts, memorizing exits, cataloging weaknesses.

When we passed a cluster of employees, I caught the faintest whispers, “That’s the new one for the CEO…” followed by a look exchanged, sharp and knowing. Office politics. A den of wolves disguised in corporate blazers tailored suits.

Maria finally stopped before a sleek set of double doors. “Mr. Moretti will see you now.”

My pulse gave one hard beat, but my face remained calm. Twelve years had led to this moment.

Time to meet the son of my enemy.

Maria pushed the door open, then stepped aside with a practiced smile. I followed suit.

The office was larger than my entire apartment, floor-to-ceiling windows spilling light across a polished desk, shelves lined with files and leather-bound books. But it wasn’t the room that caught my attention.

It was him.

Leonardo Moretti stood with his back to me, jacket off, white shirt rolled at the sleeves as though he’d been working through the morning. When he finally turned, the weight of his gaze landed on me like a blow. Cold. Domineering. Heavy.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. We have met on the day of the interview, he didn't ask alot or strict questions like i had anticipated, instead he was just staring, his eyes lingered,not in appreciation, but in recognition, as if he were trying to place me, to unmask me. Something flashed in his expression before it vanished, replaced with that trademark mafia detachment I had read about.

“Camille Martins,” he said, voice deep, even. No warmth, no welcome. “You’re the new secretary.”

I inclined my head. “Yes, sir.”

He studied me in silence, long enough to make it deliberate. Then, with the faintest curl of his mouth, he gestured toward the desk across from his.

“You’ll sit there. Don’t waste my time, Miss Martins. If you can’t keep up, you’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

A challenge.

I walked to the desk with steady steps, heels clicking like a countdown. If he thought intimidation would work on me, he was mistaken.

I wasn’t here to survive him.

I was here to destroy everything he stood for.

I opened my laptop, pretending to busy myself with schedules and emails Maria had forwarded. But my attention kept drifting back to him. Leonardo worked in silence, pen moving swiftly over contracts, phone pressed briefly to his ear, his entire presence controlled and unyielding.

I could feel it though, the weight of his gaze cutting across the room every so often. Subtle, fleeting, but unmistakable. He was watching me just as much as I was watching him.

It wasn't attraction. No, it was something else. Suspicion. Unease. Like a man standing on the edge of a memory he couldn’t quite reach.

My pulse stayed steady. I’d spent years perfecting masks, sliding into identities like a second skin. Camille Martins was supposed to be flawless, unshakable. And yet… under the press of his eyes, it was harder than I’d expected to breathe.

I tapped my screen, reviewing the upcoming meetings, forcing myself to focus. This was just another mission. The last mission. The last step toward Roberto Moretti.

The office clock ticked softly, minutes dragging into hours, the quiet between us thick and sharp as glass.

Then, out of nowhere, Leonardo spoke. His voice was low, measured, but it sliced through the silence like a blade.

“Tell me, Miss Martins…” His eyes lifted, locking onto mine with unnerving precision. “…why do your eyes look so familiar?”

My breath caught. For the first time in years, I almost faltered.