POV: Carmen → Marco
Sofia De Luca arrives without warning.
That alone tells me everything.
Vincent’s estate is quiet that afternoon, the kind of stillness that settles after too many sleepless nights. I’m seated in the smaller sitting room near the garden, documents spread across the table, my hand resting unconsciously against my stomach as I reread the same lines for the third time. Numbers. Dates. Names. All of them pointing in the same direction.
Arianna Ricci is not loyal to anyone.
The guard announces Sofia’s name softly, like he’s unsure whether she should exist in this space at all. Vincent stiffens across from me, his jaw tightening instantly.
“No,” he mutters. “Absolutely not.”
“Let her in,” I say before he can finish.
Vincent turns to me sharply. “You don’t invite rats into your house.”
“You listen to them,” I reply. “Then you decide whether to kill them.”
Sofia enters moments later, composed as ever, dressed in muted colors that don’t demand attention. She doesn’t smile. She doesn’t look around like she’s impressed or intimidated. She looks straight at me, assessing, calculating.
“Carmen Venetti,” she says. “You look exactly like I expected.”
“And you look like someone who didn’t come here to make peace,” I reply calmly.
Sofia inclines her head slightly. “I came to offer truth.”
Vincent scoffs. “You De Lucas wouldn’t know truth if it bit you.”
She doesn’t even glance at him. “I didn’t come for you.”
I gesture toward the chair opposite me. “Sit.”
She does.
Without ceremony, Sofia slides a flash drive across the table toward me. “Everything you need is on that.”
I don’t touch it immediately. “Why?”
“Because Arianna is destroying us,” Sofia replies evenly. “And she won’t stop with us.”
Vincent lets out a humorless laugh. “You expect us to believe this is charity?”
“No,” Sofia says. “I expect you to believe it’s self-preservation.”
I finally pick up the drive. “You want Marco back on your side.”
“I want Arianna gone,” Sofia corrects. “She betrayed us once. She’s doing it again. Only this time, she’s using Venetti power as camouflage.”
“You helped her before,” I say.
“Yes,” Sofia admits without flinching. “And I paid for that mistake.”
Vincent leans forward. “Every word out of your mouth is poison.”
“Then verify it,” Sofia says coolly. “Everything is traceable.”
Silence stretches.
“I don’t trust you,” I say.
“You shouldn’t,” Sofia agrees. “But you should trust evidence.”
When she leaves, the room feels heavier.
Vincent watches me plug the drive into my laptop. “You’re playing with venom.”
“I know,” I say.
The files load slowly, methodically.
And then the picture becomes horrifyingly clear.
Shell companies connected to both Venetti and De Luca logistics. Arms shipments rerouted. Intelligence sold twice. Arianna positioned at the center of it all, feeding Marco just enough truth to blind him while hollowing both families from the inside.
“She’s done this before,” Vincent says quietly.
“Yes,” I reply. “And she’s doing it again.”
My hands shake as I package the files. Not to Vincent. Not to Luca.
To Marco.
I send them anonymously. No explanation. No accusation. Just proof.
Then I wait.
***
POV: Marco
The files arrive without a name.
That’s what makes them dangerous.
I’m alone in my office when the message pings, the subject line empty, the attachment heavy. Instinct tells me to delete it. Experience tells me to open it.
I do.
By the third page, my stomach tightens.
By the fifth, my pulse is pounding.
Shell companies. Financial loops. Intelligence leaks. All of it points back to Arianna—too clean to be fabricated, too detailed to be coincidence.
My jaw clenches.
I’m still staring at the screen when the door opens.
Arianna walks in like she owns the place.
“You sent for me?” she asks lightly.
I don’t answer. I pick up the printed pages instead and toss them across the desk.
“Explain,” I say.
She glances down, scans them once, twice.
Then she looks up.
And laughs.
Soft. Controlled. Almost pitying.
“Is this what they’re trying now?” she asks. “Planting doubt?”
“You didn’t answer,” I snap.
She steps closer, voice lowering. “Marco, look at me.”
I hate that I do.
“They’re trying to break your trust,” she continues. “Because it’s the only thing keeping you ahead.”
“These documents—”
“Are selectively curated,” she cuts in. “Fragments of half-truths designed to look damning.”
My chest tightens. “You said you were loyal.”
“I am,” she says, placing a hand over her heart. “To you.”
She steps closer still, invading my space. “I would never manipulate you. I was your first love. I would never become your enemy.”
The words hit deeper than I expect.
My doubt wavers.
“You think Carmen didn’t help put this together?” Arianna adds softly. “You think it’s a coincidence she runs to Vincent Rossi and suddenly evidence appears?”
Anger flares hot and blinding.
“She wouldn’t,” I say.
“She already did,” Arianna replies. “She chose him. She chose distance. She chose abandonment.”
My jaw tightens painfully.
“She knows exactly how to hurt you,” Arianna continues. “The closest people always do.”
Silence stretches between us, thick and charged.
Outside, something in my empire is cracking.
And I don’t know which woman is holding the hammer.
Not anymore.