Isabella's side-Lower Manhattan, abandoned church
Dust filtered through stained glass, casting red and violet shadows over the ruined pews. The church had been a sanctuary once-now it was war council ground.
Isabella stood beneath a broken crucifix, flanked by Nico and a woman with sharp eyes and sharper knives-Gianna Voss, former Ricci assassin, Nico's old contact.
"You said we needed loyal," Gianna said, flipping a dagger between her fingers. "So what makes you think i won't sell you to Ricci for a better price?.
Nico raised a brow. Isabella didn't blink.
"Because I'm offering something Ricci won't".
"Which is?."
"fire". Isabella steeped forward. "Not a seat at the table. Not survival. I'm offering vengeance. You help me burn the old families down, and when the ashes settle-you choose your place in the new world".
Gianna smiled. "you sound like a queen."
"I'm not," Isabella said. "I'm a storm."
One by one, the others filtered in.
-A tattooed hacker named Santo, who once ran Ricci's encrypted communications.
-Domenico Raye, a disgraced former D'Angelo enforcer with scars on his back from refusing to kill innocents.
-Luca Moretti's own cleaner, Mara, who'd secretly sent Isabella the name of Vittorio's banker days ago.
They gathered around the altar like old gods awakening.
Gianna sheathed her blade. "You've got soldiers, Bella. Now give us a target".
Isabella smiled coldly. "My father. Vittorio. I want him alive long enough to watch everything he built collapse. Then we salt the earth."
VITTORIO'S SIDE -MORETTI ESTATE, PRIVATE STUDY
The room smelled of tobacco, old leather, and blood disguised as legacy.
Vittorio Moretti stood before a large oil painting of his father, his fingers curled around a crystal glass pf whiskey. Beside him, Enzo, his personal consigliere, read from a report with trembling hands.
"She's gathering people. Nico's with her. Gianna Voss. Even some of Luca's own men are breaking rank. Word is, she's planning something big-soon."
Vittorio didn't flinch.
"She found Matteo's drive?" he asked.
Enzo nodded. "We believe so".
He sipped his whiskey. "Should've burned him faster."
Then, softly, dangerously: "She's playing queen now, is she?"
"She's dangerous, Don."
Vittorio turned, eyes dark. "she's my daughter. That makes her lethal."
Enzo hesitated. :What would you have me do?"
"Call Ricci. Call D'Angelo. Tell them the girl is off leash and hunting gods."
"And Nico?"
Vittorio's voice turned to gravel.
"Bring me his head. Preferably still breathing."
As the night deepened over New York, two storms began to form on opposite ends of the city.
One built on vengeance.
One built on legacy.
And only one would survive the fire to come.