All Chapters of Blood and Dynasty: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

My heels echoed against the cold marble—a surface my father adored but I loathed. Not for its beauty, but for the way it betrayed even a single drop of blood. A nightmare for the maids, though they deserved far better after all they’d seen. Soon, I would change that. Once I inherited my father’s empire, they would never have to scrub away another man's sins.Exhaling softly, I ran a manicured hand through my platinum locks, steadying myself. I was heading to my father’s office for a meeting that could alter the balance of power—one contract, one signature, one carefully calculated move. I could not afford a mistake.A glance downward ensured I was immaculate: tailored beige skirt, crisp white blouse, elegant heels—pristine yet commanding. The gold bracelet circling my wrist gleamed under the light, as did the diamond pendant from Spain—one of my father’s many gifts. A reminder that I was not just his daughter. I was his heir.At last, I halted before the door. A brief knock. A gruff,

The grand ballroom had transformed into something out of legend—golden candlelight flickering against ancient frescoes, the scent of white lilies and burning incense thick in the air. Every element had been curated for a singular purpose: to make a statement.Rows of guests sat in stiff silence, their polished shoes pressing against the marble floors that had seen centuries of power shifts. The weight of expectation was suffocating, but I had long since mastered the art of standing beneath it without faltering.Leonardo stood at the altar, his tailored black suit a contrast to the gilded backdrop. He had chosen simplicity where others might have chosen excess. He didn’t need embellishments—his presence alone commanded attention.My steps were deliberate as I approached, my gown trailing behind me in waves of satin. It was designed to exude power—not fragility. Not submission.He watched me closely, the faintest smirk touching his lips as I stopped before him.“You look… lethal,” he mu

The warning had been delivered, and now, the silence that followed was the loudest confirmation that something bigger was coming. Whoever was behind this believed patience was their weapon, that lurking in the shadows would give them the upper hand.They had underestimated us.Leonardo and I weren’t the type to wait for a strike. We would deliver it first.The study smelled of aged leather and whiskey, the faint crackle of burning wood filling the otherwise quiet space. Leonardo sat near the fireplace, glass in hand, the dim light casting sharp shadows along his jaw.I stood near the window, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. Something about the silence felt unnerving—it wasn’t peace, it was anticipation.“You’re restless,” Leonardo observed, sipping his drink.I turned slightly, arms crossed. “I don’t like waiting for a war. I prefer delivering it.”His smirk was faint, but there. “I thought marriage would teach you patience.”I arched a brow. “You should have known be

Rome wasn’t like Venice. It didn’t exist in quiet control, in the careful arrangement of alliances sealed over centuries. No, Rome was restless—always shifting, always challenging the structures placed upon it.And now, as Leonardo and I stepped into its heart, the city was watching.They knew we were coming.But they didn’t know what we were bringing with us.The meeting was arranged at the Villa Aurelia, a place of quiet grandeur, far enough from the chaos to host discussions without distractions.Leonardo and I arrived together, as always, the weight of our presence deliberate. He walked with calculated ease, his suit immaculate, his gaze scanning the gathering ahead of us. I matched his stride, my dress a deep sapphire—a color that commanded attention without screaming for it.The first person to greet us was Matteo Romano, a man whose allegiance had always been uncertain. Too connected, too knowledgeable about movements that weren’t his own.“Xena, Leonardo,” he greeted, offering

Rome wasn’t unshakable. It was fractured.And now, Leonardo and I were ready to break it.The villa was dimly lit, the soft hum of distant traffic barely audible beyond the open windows. Maps, documents, and lists of names were spread across the desk, the foundation of Giancarlo’s empire laid bare before us.Leonardo poured himself a drink, his movements slow, deliberate, as if savoring the weight of our impending victory.I stood near the window, my fingers tracing the rim of my own glass. “Giancarlo thrives on perception. If he looks untouchable, he believes he is.”Leonardo smirked, swirling his whiskey. “Then let’s make sure Rome sees him bleed.”I turned to face him fully now, watching the way his gaze flickered with something else—anticipation, enjoyment, maybe even admiration.“You like watching people fall, don’t you?” I mused.His chuckle was low, indulgent. “I prefer watching them realize they never stood a chance.”I exhaled, stepping closer, my heels pressing against the p