POV: Marco
I wake to quiet. Not the comfortable kind—the kind that means something is missing.
I reach across the bed without thinking, my hand finding cool sheets where Carmen should be. For a split second, irritation flares. Another early morning. Another silent protest. Then my eyes land on the desk by the window, and I see the note.
Folded. Centered. Intentional. My jaw tightens as I read it.
I don’t let myself linger on the words. I don’t let them settle. I tear the paper once, twice, the sound sharp in the still room, and drop the pieces into the trash as if that’s all it deserves.
She left.
I tell myself it’s temporary. Dramatic. A tactic. Carmen has always believed distance creates leverage. She wants me to chase. To beg. To admit fault. I won’t.
I dress quickly, efficiently, pulling control back around myself like armor. This isn’t the time for emotion. This is the time for clarity.
By the time I leave the estate, the sting has dulled into something harder. Something colder.
Betrayal.
She didn’t just leave. She abandoned me. At the worst possible moment. When pressure is closing in. When alliances are shifting. When I need stability, not ultimatums.
I drive straight to Arianna.
Her estate greets me with warmth—open gates, lights already on, staff discreet and efficient. She’s expecting me. Of course she is.
Arianna meets me in the sitting room, dressed simply, elegantly, as if she hasn’t curated the moment at all. Her eyes flick to my face, sharp, observant.
“She’s gone,” she says softly.
The words hit harder because she doesn’t frame them as a question.
I stiffen. “You’re assuming.”
She tilts her head. “I saw the car leave last night.”
Of course she did. I don’t respond. I pour myself a drink from the decanter on the sideboard, ignoring the way my hand tightens around the glass.
“She chose to walk away,” I say flatly.
Arianna doesn’t smile. She steps closer instead, careful, measured. “That must hurt.”
“I’m not here to discuss my marriage.”
“Of course not,” she replies smoothly. “You’re here because you can’t afford distractions.”
Finally. Something solid.
“Tell me what you know,” I say.
She nods and gestures for us to sit. “The De Lucas are reorganizing. They’re not as fractured as they want people to believe.”
I lean forward. “Who’s leading it?”
“Enzo De Luca,” she says. “The enforcer. Brutal. Greedy. Loyal only to power.”
“That tracks.”
“He’s consolidating muscle,” Arianna continues. “Pulling in old soldiers, promising them influence and territory once you’re weakened.”
“And Sofia?” I ask.
Arianna’s expression sharpens slightly. “Sofia De Luca is the real threat. She’s their strategist. Quiet. Precise. She doesn’t move unless she’s already ten steps ahead.”
“So what’s the play?” I ask.
“You leverage Enzo’s greed,” she says. “You give him a reason to doubt Sofia. Make him think she’s hoarding resources. Planning to cut him out.”
“That’s risky.”
“All effective strategies are,” Arianna replies calmly. “As for Sofia, you isolate her. Break her network. Remove her access to information, and the family collapses from the inside.”
I consider it. It’s dangerous. Aggressive. And effective.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask.
She meets my gaze. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I weren’t.”
I nod once. “Do it. But carefully.”
Relief flickers across her face—quickly masked. “Of course.”
She steps closer, her hand brushing my sleeve lightly. Not accidental. Not forceful.
“You did the right thing,” she murmurs. “Letting go of what was holding you back.”
I pull my arm away. “Don’t.”
She raises her hands slightly, unbothered. “I’m not crossing lines.”
“Good,” I say coldly.
But as I leave her estate, something gnaws at me. Carmen’s face flashes in my mind—angry, hurt, resolute. For a moment, doubt creeps in.
I crush it. She chose this. And I won’t let her absence destabilize me.
***
POV: Arianna
The moment Marco’s car disappears beyond the gates, I smile.
Not wide. Not obvious. Just enough.
I walk into my office and pick up my phone, dialing without hesitation.
Enzo answers on the second ring. “You sound pleased.”
“I am,” I say lightly. “Marco Venetti is exactly where I want him.”
“And Carmen?” Sofia asks, her voice cool as ever, joining the call.
“Gone,” I reply. “A strong piece removed from the board.”
Enzo laughs. “That was easier than I expected.”
“Strong doesn’t mean immovable,” I say. “It just means she needed to be isolated first.”
“And Venetti?” Sofia asks.
“He thinks he’s in control,” I say. “He thinks he’s using me.”
Enzo snorts. “Men always do.”
“By the time he realizes the truth,” I continue calmly, “his alliances will be fractured, his judgment compromised, and his house unstable.”
“And Carmen?” Sofia presses.
I pause for half a second. “She was dangerous. Loyal. Intelligent. She saw me clearly.”
“Good riddance,” Enzo mutters.
“Yes,” I agree softly. “Her absence simplifies things.”
I end the call and move to the window, watching the city stretch out beneath me. Marco Venetti believes he’s tightening his grip on power.
He has no idea he’s already bleeding.
By the time he understands what I’m doing, it will be far too late to stop me.
And the Venetti name—like the De Lucas before it—will fall apart from the inside.