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.

DANTE'S POV

I have always loved little metals, cold metals especially, the one that kills people in seconds, but this makes me more dead than living every second that passes by.

The wedding band sat in my palm. White gold just like she wanted, Simple. The band I'd slid onto her finger six years ago while promising things I meant, I told her I would protect her with my life, and kill anyone who tries to hurt a single strand of hair on her head.

She'd stopped believing those things.

I found the ring in the trash outside our building.

Discarded like it meant nothing.

Like we meant nothing.

My fist closed around it until the metal bit into my palm. The pain can't be compared with the one I feel inside currently. It's better than the hollow ache that lived in my chest now.

It's been a fucking month.

Thirty-one days since she'd pointed a gun at my head and walked out. Not caring of how I'd cope without her.

Thirty-one nights of sleeping in my office because our bed smelled like her and I couldn't fucking breathe in there.

"Boss." Marco's voice came from the doorway. Everyone has been careful around me lately, except Marco.

"The investigator called," he continued. "Still nothing. No credit cards. No phone activity. No..."

"Tell him to look harder." I replied impatiently, not bothering to look up.

"Dante, it's been a month. If she doesn't want to be found...."

"She's my wife!" The word came out rough, exactly how I feel inside.

Mine. She is mine.

"You signed the divorce papers," Marco said quietly. "Legally, she's not...."

I threw the glass on my desk. It shattered against the wall, raining crystal across marble, I got up shooting him a deadly glare.

Marco stared back without breaking eye contact. He'd seen worse from me these past weeks.

"Get out!." I could barely stand his running mouth,

He hesitated. "Dante...."

"Vaffanculo." I didn't bother to look up. "Get the fuck out, Marco."

The door closed with a soft thud. I slumped back into the couch, signing heavily.

How long will this take?

Silence pressed in, that loud emptiness that makes it hard to breathe. The kind that made you hear your own heartbeat. Your own thoughts.

I used to fill that silence with her, she would always find excuses to come into my office, humming sweetly, or dancing while I watched her. Her laughter. The soft sound of her breathing when she slept curled against my chest or on the couch where I sat currently.

Now there was nothing, nothing but silence echoing in my head.

I pulled up the security footage. Again. The same clip I'd watched a hundred times like some fucked-up masochist. Maybe I am.

Bella walking to the elevator. That stupid gun was hidden in her bag, I will fucking kill the person that give her that gun, I personally kept her away from that life, I taught her how to shoot just for self defense, not knowing she would use it against me

Those divorce papers in her jacket, the lawyer that drafted it will also lose his career and a leg, they should all wait till I find her.

Still watching the footage, her Back straight, Head high, just like a gorgeous model, my fucking model.

She didn't look back. Not once. That hurts more than a bullet wound.

She Left like leaving me was that easy

I paused on her face. Zoomed in.

Those eyes. Christ, those honey-brown eyes that used to look at me like I was something worth loving.

Now they'd looked at me like I was a monster.

"You murdered my family."

Her words still echoed. The accusation.

She was certain.

She actually believed I'd....

My jaw clenched, I shut my eyes tightly.

I didn't know what she'd found. Which of my secrets she found out, but I did it for her own good.

And I'd make her understand that, I would kill anyone who threatened to take her again.

Right after I found her, right after I got my hands on her again, I will explain it will she understands.

My eyes ran through her body, her perfect body flashed through my mind,

My body reacted to the thought. Heat and need rushing through my veins.

The kind I'd been drowning in alcohol to forget.

A month without touching her, without tasting her. Without feeling her come apart beneath me while she said my name like a prayer.

Fuck

A month of my hand and cold showers and memories that weren't enough, can never be enough.

I wanted her. I needed her. In ways that weren't healthy or sane, it physically hurts, my chest beating rapidly at the thoughts, sweat starting to form on my forehead.

I know I would burn the world down if it means I will get her back.

My phone buzzed. Nina Torres.

Finally! That gimmick.

I answered before the second ring. "Where is she?" I said immediately,

"Fuck you, Dante." Her voice shook with rage. "I hope you never find her." I rolled my eyes at the sound of her voice, I will find her.... It just hasn't happened yet.

"You know where she is." I wasn't asking a question,

"Even if I did, I'd die before telling you." Nina laughed mockingly "You destroyed her. The Bella I knew trusted and loved you" she paused "you killed that girl." She was obviously boiling in anger, "I don't know what you did but I'm glad she isn't yours anymore"

"She's still my wife." I said between my teeth.

"No. She's finally free." She pauses, sniffing, is she crying?. "And you have no idea what's coming for you."

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone for like two minutes, mind was blank.

What's coming for me?

Threat or warning?

At the point I'm not bothered, if what's coming involves Bella coming back I'm ready.

I pulled up the video again. Rewind to the week before she left.

I watched her move through our home like a ghost.

Making dinner. Painting.

Everything was perfect, what changed.

All of it a lie.

How long had she been planning this? How many times had I fucked her while she was plotting her escape?

The thought made something violent twist in my gut.

She'd let me fucked her while hating me?.

Suddenly, I felt the headache coming, I actually noticed she became more gentle. A few years ago, I thought she was just getting more mature. Was she plotting then?

Jesus Christ.

I'd been married to a stranger.

My office door opened again. Marco entered, face grim.

"What!" I snapped.

He handed me his phone without a word.

A photo. Grainy, taken from distance.

A picture of a strange woman, she was dressed...

But those eyes. I'd know those eyes in the dark.

Bella!. Tesoro.

I sat up immediately.

My hand tightened on the phone, my heart skipped a beat, beating rapidly. She is safe,she is around and she is alive.

She'd cut her hair. Why?

Focus!. I need to focus.

"Where?" My voice came out rough.

"Sicily. Three days ago." Marco's tone was careful. "She stays around there now."

I stared at the photo.

My soft, sweet wife who'd cried during sad movies was standing in Sicily with a gun and meeting with people I don't know.

What the fuck had she become?

"Get me on a flight," I said. "Now."

"Dante, if you go there without a plan..."

"The plan is simple." I looked up. "Find her. Bring her home. Remind her who the fuck she belongs to."

"And if she fights?"

I smiled slowly. Fight? That's not even a possibility.

"Then I'll enjoy breaking her in again." I shrugged dropping the phone on the desk

Marco's expression darkened. "There's something else. Lorenzo Vitale is back, he might declare war soon."

I grabbed my jacket. Not bothering to look at him, I have got something more important to going on.

"Where are you going?"

"Sicily." I checked my gun. "To get my wife back."

"Dante......"

"Handle Lorenzo" I ordered.

I headed for the door. She's mine. She'll always be mine.

I don't care if anyone wants to take my empire, Marco will handle it.

But Bella is coming home soon.

Even if I had to drag her home by that pretty throat.

Even if I had to fuck the fight out of her until she remembered.

She is mine. And I'm done wa......

Suddenly an explosion broke out. I instinctively reached for my gun, Marco drew out his gun also, rushing forward.

"What was that?" I asked, turning to Marco

" Lorenzo.... He is here."