BELLA'S POV

I arrived in Sicily early the next morning. It smelled like salt and blood, just like I'd heard about.

This is where it all began. Where I was born. Where my real family died.

I stood at the gates of the Sovereign estate. Or what was left of it. And felt my past pressing against my skin.

Years ago, I was born in this house. And it had died with my parents.

The estate looked like a corpse. You could tell how vibrant and magnificent this place once was. But now the walls were crumbling. Gardens wild and overgrown. Windows shattered.

But the gates still stood. Wrought iron twisted into an elaborate S.

Sovereign.

My name. The thought made my heart skip a beat.

I'm back home. Exactly where I belong.

I pushed through the gates and walked toward the main building. Each step echoing. Several thoughts running through my mind as I looked around.

I needed to find someone. Anyone. I knew they were around here somewhere.

After wandering for an hour, they found me.

Three men. Armed to the teeth. Watching me suspiciously.

The oldest stepped forward. Gun lowered but ready.

"You're trespassing."

"No." I stood straighter.

"I belong here."

Say it. Make them believe it.

The men looked at me like I'd suddenly grown horns.

"My name is Isabella Marie Sovereign. Alessandro Sovereign was my father. This is my family's land."

The men stared at me for a moment. Then burst into laughter.

I'd expected this. I knew they would need proof.

"Alessandro's daughter died with him," the oldest man said.

"Everyone knows that."

"Everyone's wrong." I pulled out the documents from Anthony's basement. The ones I'd carefully arranged.

"Anthony Russo took care of me. I was given to him as a child to keep me safe. Now I'm here to claim what's mine."

The oldest man took the documents. His hands started shaking as he read.

"Dio mio," he whispered.

"The eyes. You have his eyes."

"I have more than his eyes." I stepped closer.

"I have his name. His blood." I looked at each of them.

"And I need soldiers. Are you interested? Or does your loyalty belong somewhere else?"

The men exchanged glances. Some silent communication I didn't understand.

Finally, the oldest knelt.

"Tommaso Ricci, Lady Sovereign. I served your father for twenty years." His voice broke.

"I was there that night. The night we lost everything."

"Then help me take it back."

First mission accomplished.

They brought me to their safehouse. A warehouse on the edge of Palermo. Filled with men who'd been hiding in shadows for fifteen years.

"How many?" I asked Tommaso.

"Forty-three men. Some women. Children of soldiers who died."

"We've been waiting, Lady Sovereign. Fifteen years. Hoping the heir Alessandro mentioned was real."

"We were hunted after Alessandro's death," he paused, "by Don Caruso."

My hands fisted. My jaw clenched.

Of course. Dante again. Always Dante.

"Don Caruso is my ex-husband," I said quietly.

The room went completely silent.

I told them everything. The marriage. The lies. Finding the truth. The divorce at gunpoint.

"I'm here to avenge my family," I concluded.

Tommaso was quiet for a long moment. Then he spoke.

"We had nothing to fight for before. Now we have direction. We will fight for you, Lady Sovereign."

The room erupted. Men shouting their loyalty. Pounding fists on tables.

I felt something shift inside me. Something cold and hard settling into place.

This is real. This is happening.

"We thought Anthony didn't survive," Tommaso said.

"We never heard from him after everything died down."

Hearing Anthony's name brought the pain back. Sharp and fresh.

He knew who I was. Who Dante was. And I ignored his warnings until it was too late.

I remembered Anthony's body in the river. Elena's remains found years later.

How dare Dante. How dare he take everyone I loved.

"Who ordered the hit?" I asked. My voice barely steady.

"Who killed my family?"

Tommaso leaned forward.

"It was blamed on the Vitales. Lorenzo Vitale's son supposedly led the attack. But the real orchestrator was obvious. Someone who benefited when Sovereign territories became available."

"The Carusos controlled the territories after. Right?"

Tommaso nodded.

"Within months of your family's death, Caruso moved in. Claimed the territories were abandoned. That they were maintaining order." He spat.

"Maintaining order by dancing on graves."

I stood. My legs unsteady.

I made the right decision leaving. At least I made one good decision in my life.

"What do you need from us?" Tommaso asked.

"Everything." I turned to face all the men in the room.

"Teach me everything I need to know. I'm a Sovereign by blood. Now I need to become one by skill. I need to take back what was stolen from us."

"And Dante Caruso?"

"I'm going to destroy him." My voice was ice.

"Piece by piece. Everything he built on my family's blood, I'm going to burn to the ground."

The room erupted again. Louder this time. Men pledging loyalty. Swearing vengeance.

I stood there feeling my old life die. And something new rising from the ashes.

Bella Russo is dead. Long live Isabella Sovereign.

That night, I stood on the balcony overlooking Palermo. A city my father once controlled.

My city. My birthright. Stolen by the man I married.

Tommaso appeared beside me.

"Tell me about them," I said.

"My parents."

He sighed. The silence stretched long.

"Tomorrow. Not tonight. You should rest."

He paused.

"It won't be easy, Lady Sovereign. Becoming who you need to be. It requires sacrifice."

"I've already sacrificed everything."

"No." He looked at me with sad eyes.

"Not yet. But you will."

He walked away, leaving me alone. Watching the city sparkle below.

The war has started. And I'm changing.

I just hoped when this was over, when I'd burned down everything Dante built and stood victorious in the ashes, I'd still recognize the woman in the mirror.

But I'm willing to risk it. Even if I die trying.

My phone buzzed again. Dante calling. Again.

I turned it off.

Let him search. Let him worry. Let him wonder what happened to his sweet, obedient Bella.

He wouldn't find her. She didn't exist anymore.

Tomorrow, the real work would begin. Training. Planning. Building an army.

But tonight, I allowed myself one moment. One breath. One last look at the scared girl I used to be.

Then I'll let her go.

And became someone new.

Someone dangerous.

Someone who would make Dante Caruso regret the day he decided to marry Alessandro Sovereign's daughter.

I'm coming for you, Dante. And when I'm done, you'll wish you'd killed me too.

BELLA'S POV

Tommaso woke me early the next morning for breakfast.

My body ached. The mattress here was nothing like the one in Dante's penthouse. But I'd slept better than I had in months.

No nightmares. No waking up next to a monster.

The coffee Tommaso brought tasted bitter. Like ash. But I drank it anyway.

He sat across from me. Placed a worn leather journal between us.

"Your father's," he said quietly.

I stared at the initials burned into the cover. A.S. Alessandro Sovereign.

My father. A man I never got to know.

My chest tightened. I wanted to touch it. Hold it. But I was afraid.

"Tell me about the night they died." My voice came out steadier than I felt.

"Everything. Don't leave anything out."

Tommaso studied me for a long moment. Like he was deciding something.

Then he poured himself more coffee. The silence stretched. Only the sound of liquid hitting the cup.

Finally, he spoke.

"It was supposed to be a peace summit."

Peace?, In the mafia?, Right.

"Your father and Lorenzo Vitale had been at war for years. Territorial disputes. Shipping routes. The usual bullshit." He paused.

"The fighting wasn't good for either family. So Alessandro suggested they meet. Neutral ground. An old monastery outside Palermo."

"Your father didn't trust it." Tommaso opened the journal carefully. Like it was sacred.

"But he went anyway. Because he'd given his word."

A gentleman. Even in a world of monsters.

"He brought twenty men. I was supposed to go. But my wife had an emergency that night. So I stayed behind." His jaw clenched.

"Lorenzo brought his son Nico and thirty men. They just wanted the bloodshed to end."

"What happened?"

Instead of answering, Tommaso pulled photos from inside the journal.

Bodies. So many bodies.

Blood pooling on ancient stone floors. Bullet holes in walls that had stood for centuries. A massacre in a holy place.

I couldn't look away.

This is what Dante built his empire on. This blood.

"They said the Vitales opened fire first," Tommaso said quietly.

"But look closer."

I forced myself to study the photos. Bodies wearing different colors. Different families.

All dead.

"Both sides were slaughtered," I whispered.

"Including Nico Vitale. Lorenzo's only son." Tommaso pointed to a young man's body. Face frozen in shock.

"If the Vitales planned an ambush, why kill Lorenzo's heir?"

The question hung in the air.

"It doesn't make sense," I said slowly.

"No. It doesn't." Tommaso leaned back. Something dark crossed his face.

"But here's what does make sense. Within three months, Dante Caruso had claimed both Sovereign and Vitale territories. While both families were bleeding and broken, he swept in like a savior. Restoring order, he called it."

My hands tightened on the cup until my knuckles went white.

Of course. Of course it was him.

"I can't prove it. Never could. But I know Dante orchestrated it."

He turned pages in the journal.

"Your father wrote this two days before the meeting. It was meant for Anthony, but he never got it."

I leaned forward. Reading my father's handwriting for the first time.

Meeting with Vitale feels wrong. Caruso's silence is suspicious. If anything happens, protect Isabella at all cost.

The words blurred.

He knew. He suspected. And he went anyway because his word mattered more than his life.

I was thirteen when he died. Living with Anthony. Completely unaware that my real parents were walking into a trap.

"Who investigated?" I asked. My voice barely steady.

"The Carusos offered to lead it personally." Tommaso's laugh was bitter.

"Said they'd find justice for both families. Three months later, the case was closed. Blamed on the Vitales. Matter settled. Meanwhile, Dante had already absorbed both territories."

He pulled out more documents.

"Payments from Caruso accounts," Tommaso said.

"Dated two weeks before the massacre. To suspicious accounts."

I studied the papers. Multiple transactions. Carefully coded but traceable if you knew what to look for.

"Who authorized these?"

"Marco Salvatore." Tommaso's finger found the signature.

"Giovanni's right hand back then. Now Dante's right hand. Convenient, isn't it?"

Marco.

He was always there. Always in the background. Always in control.

Marco couldn't move money without approval. Which meant Dante knew. Dante authorized it.

Dante ordered it.

Tommaso's expression shifted.

"Dante took over the family business at seventeen. Right after Giovanni died of a convenient heart attack. The massacre happened a few weeks later."

"You think Dante killed his own father?"

"I think a seventeen-year-old boy inherited an empire built on blood." Tommaso met my eyes.

"His father died. Then he eliminated all threats in one night. Convenient coincidence, don't you think?"

Kill the competition. Take the power. Rule the city.

There was no difference between Dante and his father. Just a younger monster wearing a better suit.

Dante had lived in luxury built on my family's corpse. Had controlled my father's ports. Used my father's alliances. Ruled my father's territories.

For fifteen years.

I stood abruptly. The chair scraped against concrete. I walked to the window overlooking Palermo.

My city. My birthright. Built on my family's blood.

Behind me, Tommaso waited.

"My parents wanted a normal life for me." My voice broke.

"Yes. A normal life." His voice was gentle.

"That's why your mother gave you to Anthony at birth. She wanted you safe. Away from blood and violence."

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass.

They wanted me safe. And I married the man who killed them.

"But I'm here now."

I turned to face him.

"I want everything they took. Every territory. Every alliance. Every piece of power they built on my family's bones."

Tommaso smiled. Proud.

"Training starts today. Hope you're ready to become what you were born to be."

"I'm ready."

More than ready. I've been ready since I found those documents.

After he left, I stood at the window. Looking at my reflection in the dark glass.

A stranger looked back. Someone harder. Colder.

Bella was too soft. Too trusting. Isabella needs to be steel.

A knock interrupted my thoughts.

Tommaso entered without waiting. His face grim.

"We have a problem." He tossed an envelope onto the table.

I opened it with shaking hands.

Inside was a single photograph.

Two young men in their mid-twenties. Laughing together at a bar. One I didn't recognize. The other had my father's eyes. My father's smile.

Who is this?

I flipped it over.

Written on the back in red ink: An eye for an eye. Your father killed my heir. I will kill his.

My throat went dry.

"Who sent this?"

Tommaso's jaw clenched.

"Lorenzo Vitale. He's still alive. Still grieving his son." He paused.

"And he thinks you're responsible."

No. No no no.

"That's what you need to understand. You're not just fighting the Carusos anymore."

I looked back at the photo. At the young man with my father's smile.

"Who is he?"

Tommaso's silence was answer enough.

I have family. Living family. And Lorenzo wants them dead.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"This man in the photo."

"Safe. For now. But Lorenzo has eyes everywhere. If he finds out you've resurfaced, if he connects you to Alessandro..."

"He'll kill anyone with Sovereign blood."

"Yes."

I set the photo down carefully. My hands steady despite the fear crawling up my spine.

This is what I signed up for. This is the price of revenge.

"Then we move faster," I said.

"Train harder. Strike before Lorenzo does."

"And Dante?"

I looked at Tommaso. At this man who'd served my father. Who'd waited fifteen years for someone to rise from the ashes.

"Dante will learn what it means to take something that doesn't belong to him." My voice was ice.

"And when I'm done, he'll beg for the mercy he never showed my family."

The war has three fronts now. Dante. Marco. And Lorenzo.

But I was Alessandro Sovereign's daughter.

And I would burn them all.

BELLA'S POV

I didn't sleep all night.

Just sat there. Staring at the photograph. At the threat written in red ink.

An eye for an eye. Your father killed my heir. I will kill his.

Who sent this? Who wants me dead?

Besides Dante.

Tommaso returned at dawn with breakfast. The usual bitter coffee and stale bread.

"You didn't sleep," he observed.

I nodded slightly.

"Couldn't."

I closed the journal carefully.

"Tell me about Lorenzo Vitale."

Tommaso paused mid-pour.

"Why?" He seemed shocked by my sudden interest.

"I think I'm missing something. Was he the one who sent yesterday's message?"

He set down the coffee pot slowly.

"Lorenzo Vitale is still alive," Tommaso said.

"And he's been waiting fifteen years for revenge."

My stomach dropped. My guess was right.

"Revenge on who? The Carusos?"

"On everyone." Tommaso sat across from me. Suddenly looking every one of his years.

"Lorenzo doesn't just blame Giovanni or Dante for what happened. He blames your father too."

"What? Why would he-"

"Because Nico was at that monastery because of your father. The peace summit was Alessandro's idea. Lorenzo didn't want to negotiate. But your father convinced him. Said they could end the bloodshed. Protect the next generation."

The irony was painful.

"So Lorenzo thinks my father got his son killed."

"Lorenzo knows your father lost someone too." Tommaso's voice dropped.

"Nico Vitale died that night. And your younger brother died too."

I almost choked on my coffee.

"What?"

What? No. No no no.

"I had a brother?"

"You were supposed to." His voice cracked.

"Your mother was eight months pregnant when she died."

The room spun. I gripped the table.

They killed a pregnant woman. They killed my mother and my unborn brother.

For a moment I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

My mother. Pregnant. Eight months. Almost due.

They murdered her anyway.

"Lorenzo lost Nico that night. Your father lost his pregnant wife and unborn son.

Both families were destroyed." Tommaso turned to face me.

"For fifteen years, Lorenzo's been lying low. Sick. Dying, they say. Cancer eating him from the inside."

"Then why does it matter-"

"Because dying men have nothing to lose."

Tommaso met my eyes.

"And Lorenzo Vitale just resurfaced. A few months ago. Started making moves. Calling in old favors."

Ice slid down my spine.

"What kind of moves?"

"The kind that targets both Carusos and Sovereigns. He doesn't care about the truth anymore. In his mind, your father and Dante are both responsible for Nico's death." Tommaso leaned forward.

"Yesterday's letter proves he knows you're alive."

How? How does he know?

"A few months ago, he was certain the Sovereign bloodline was dead." Tommaso's expression darkened.

"His threat only means one thing. He has a spy nearby."

I stood. Started pacing the small room. My mind racing.

Lorenzo wants me dead. But he doesn't know I'm a woman. Thinks I'm a boy. Which means his spy doesn't know me. Didn't see me clearly.

"So Lorenzo is my biggest fear now."

"No." Tommaso glanced at me.

"The spy is."

He pulled out a burner phone. Showed me a text message.

"This came an hour ago."

Tell that Sovereign boy to get prepared. He will join his father soon.

My blood turned cold.

Sovereign boy. He thinks I'm male. That's good. That gives me an advantage.

But someone was feeding him information. Someone nearby. Someone watching.

"He's threatening me."

"He's threatening everyone. Sovereign loyalists. Dante. You. Anyone connected to that night." Tommaso took the phone back.

"Lorenzo's son died at twenty-five. Never got to inherit. Never got to marry, have children, build a legacy. That kind of loss makes a man cruel."

I thought about my own loss. My parents. Anthony. My brother I never knew existed.

Am I any different than Lorenzo? Both of us destroyed by the same night.

Now I need to act fast. Before he destroys me too.

"What does he want?"

"Blood. Caruso blood. Sovereign blood. Doesn't matter whose, as long as it's spilled." Tommaso's voice was gentle.

"You wanted to know all your enemie. Now you do. Dante Caruso in Rome. Lorenzo Vitale in Naples. And you're caught between them with an army of forty-three."

The math was brutal.

Dante had hundreds of soldiers. Lorenzo, even dying, had decades of alliances.

I had nothing.

Forty-three men against an empire. This is suicide.

Tommaso was quiet for a moment. Then spoke again.

"Nico was supposed to be different. Lorenzo groomed him to take over, but the boy wanted peace. Hated the violence. He and your father actually became friends during the early negotiations."

"Friends?"

"Your father trusted him. That's why Alessandro pushed so hard for that meeting. He thought the next generation could end the war."

Tommaso's laugh was bitter.

"Instead, both heirs died. And the war's been waiting fifteen years to finish what it started."

I sank back into my chair. Mind reeling.

Two heirs dead. Two families destroyed. And Dante profited from all of it.

"So what do I do?"

Please tell me you have a plan. Because I'm terrified.

"You train. You prepare. You build your army." He stood.

"And you decide which enemy to face first. Because fighting both at once will get you killed."

I looked at my father's journal.

He died trying to make peace. And all I'm doing is restarting the war.

I'd thought this was simple. Destroy Dante. Take back what was mine. Justice for my family.

But nothing about this was simple.

Can I really do this? Can I survive this?

"How long do I have?" I asked. "Before Lorenzo makes his move."

"Weeks. Maybe days. He's dying, Isabella. Whatever he's planning, he'll do it soon. While he still can."

I nodded slowly. Digesting the new threat.

"Are you ready for that?"

I thought about my father walking into that monastery. About my mother dying with my brother in her womb. About Anthony taking me in. Keeping me safe. Dying for it.

About Dante's signature on every document that destroyed my life.

"No," I said honestly.

"But ready or not, it's coming."

Tommaso smiled grimly.

"Your father would've said the same thing."

After he left, I opened the journal again.

Two enemies now. Both want me dead. How long do I truly have?

BOOM!

An explosion shattered the morning silence.

I was thrown backward. My ears ringing. Vision blurred.

What the hell-

Gunfire. Screaming. Men shouting in Italian.

I scrambled to my feet. Grabbed the gun from the table.

Through the smoke, I saw them pouring in.

Armed men. Moving like professionals.

They were killing Tommaso's men. My men.

No. No no no.

Wait. I recognized those uniforms.

Dante's men.

"PRINCIPESSA!" Tommaso appeared through the smoke. Blood streaming from a gash on his head.

"GO! NOW!"

"Who are they-"

"DOESN'T MATTER! MOVE!"

Another explosion. The floor shook beneath my feet.

Tommaso shoved me toward the back stairs.

"The tunnels! Get to the safe house on Via Roma. Don't stop."

"I'm not leaving-"

A bullet took the man next to us. He dropped. Dead before he hit the ground.

Oh God. Oh God.

"They can't know who you are!" Tommaso grabbed my face. Forced me to look at him.

"If they recognize you, this was all for nothing."

Tears blurred my vision. "Tommaso-"

"GO!"

He pushed me toward the stairs and turned back to the fight.

I ran.

I ran down the stairs. Through the basement. Into the old smuggler's tunnels beneath Palermo.

Behind me, the warehouse was being torn apart.

Gunfire. Explosions. Screams cut short.

My people dying while I ran like a coward.

But Tommaso's right. I can't let them see my face. Not yet. Not until I'm ready.

I couldn't let them know Isabella Sovereign was alive.

I ran through the darkness. One hand on the tunnel wall. The other gripping my father's gun.

My lungs burned. My legs screamed. But I didn't stop.

Just keep running. Don't look back. Don't think about the men dying behind you.

The tunnel seemed endless. Dark and cold and suffocating.

Finally, I saw light ahead. Leading up to the street.

I climbed. Pushed it open. Crawled out into an alley.

Via Roma. Just like Tommaso said.

Behind me, in the distance, smoke rose from the warehouse.

My people. Tommaso. All dead or dying.

And I ran.

I leaned against the wall. Trying to catch my breath. Trying not to cry.

This is what war looks like. This is the price of revenge.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out with shaking hands.

A text from an unknown number.

Welcome home, principessa. Let the games begin.

My blood went cold.

Dante.

He knew. He knew I was in Sicily. Knew about the warehouse.

The spy. The spy told him.

I looked around the empty alley. Suddenly feeling exposed. Hunted.

He's coming for me. And I have nowhere left to hide.