Zara's povI hadn’t seen Tatiana Morelli in six years, but her presence was still as potent as a knife at the throat. The Morelli estate in Florence had been her kingdom— halls, endless corridors, a place where loyalty was currency and betrayal was a death sentence. Tonight, though, we weren’t meeting under chandeliers and champagne flutes. I chose a quiet, shuttered wine bar on the far edge of the city, a place that smelled of damp oak and aged secrets. The rain outside clung to my coat as I stepped inside, and for a moment, I almost turned back. She was there already, leaning against the far booth like she owned the place, a glass of red in her hand, her eyes—those dark, bottomless eyes—fixed on me. Even from across the room, Tatiana radiated the kind of confidence that could make kings kneel. And me? I had to remind myself to keep breathing.“Zara.” She said my name like it was both a memory and a challenge, the corners of her mouth curving into something between a smile and a thre

Lisa's povThe hard drive in my coat pocket felt heavier than it should have—as if the data inside had weight, as if secrets could pull you down like stones in deep water. I’d been working for weeks, sifting through encrypted chat logs, fake invoices, and offshore routing numbers, piecing together a clean, irrefutable trail of Chris’s involvement with Leonard’s offshore network. This was the nail in his coffin, and I could already see Ethan’s face when I handed it over—cold, satisfied, ready to strike. But as I stepped out of the server room and into the dim hallway of the safehouse, something in the air shifted. It wasn’t sound exactly—more the absence of it. No clacking keyboards, no muted conversations. Just stillness, thick enough to coat the inside of my throat.It happened in a blur. A shadow moved in the corner of my vision, and before I could react, an arm snaked around my waist, the cold bite of steel pressed against my ribs. I caught the faint, familiar scent of bergamot an

Ethan's pov The boardroom was too quiet for what was about to happen. That kind of quiet that feels staged—like everyone already knows the ending, but they’re just waiting for you to walk into it blind. I stood at the head of the long mahogany table, the Carter Corp logo glaring back at me from the wall as if mocking my confidence. Every member of the board was in their place, faces blank, pens poised. I could feel the tension vibrating in the air, but beneath that, there was something else—calculated stillness. I’ve seen it before in predators waiting for the perfect strike.Chris sat three chairs down on my right, wearing the smug half-smile of a man who thought he’d already won. Next to him, Leonard’s shadow—Damien—leaned back casually in his chair, as if the vote wasn’t about the company my father built from the ground up. The company I bled for. I knew they’d been maneuvering behind the scenes, calling in old favors, planting doubts in the minds of weaker board members. I just h