The warehouse on the edge of Verona hadn't changed.
Leo stood beneath the rusted steel beams, dust swirling around his boots, the stench of oil and gunpowder lingering in the air. Amara followed him in silence, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The walls were lined with crates marked in different languages, and a dozen men stood waiting in the shadows.
One of them stepped forward—a lean man with a crooked nose and a scar slicing across his brow.
"I thought you were dead," he said, voice low and dangerous.
Leo stepped into the light. "Then you weren't paying attention."
The man grinned. "Welcome back, Cicada."
Amara watched the reunion with unease.
The men—armed, hard-eyed, silent—greeted Leo with a reverence that chilled her. This wasn't the haunted pianist she had come to love. This was someone else. Someone forged in darkness.
"What is this place?" she asked quietly as Leo led her toward a private room in the back.
He didn't meet her gaze. "It was my father's. Now it's mine."
"Cicada," she repeated. "Why that name?"
Leo opened a drawer and pulled out a small, silver pin in the shape of a cicada. "Because I disappeared. Buried myself in silence. And waited."
He met her eyes finally. "Cicadas spend most of their lives underground. Then, when it's time, they rise and make the world listen."
Amara touched the pin. "And now you're making them listen?"
Leo nodded. "Mara thinks she's playing a game. But she forgot who I used to be."
Back at Claudia's apartment in Prague, shadows moved.
Mara stood in the doorway, gloved hands brushing against sheet music, her eyes cold and clinical. She walked slowly through the apartment, noting every book, every drawer, every photograph.
"She's still alive," she said to the man behind her.
He nodded. "Yes. But Leo found her first."
Mara's lips twitched. "Of course he did. He always did have a talent for resurrection."
She picked up a broken violin string from the floor and wrapped it around her finger. "I warned them. But they never listen. That's the problem with tragic lovers…"
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"They don't know when to die."
In Verona, Leo began assembling his network.
Old contacts. Former allies. Even enemies who owed him debts. Amara watched as he moved between them with ease, no longer the soft-spoken pianist, but a strategist, a tactician.
"You're building an army," she said one night.
He looked at her over the glow of a map spread across the floor. "I'm building a shield. For you. For Claudia. For the truth."
"But what about us?" she asked. "When this is over… who will you be?"
Leo was silent for a long time.
"I don't know," he finally said. "But I hope I'll still be the man who loves you."
Matteo sent an encrypted message.
Found another account. Recent transfer. From Claudia's name to a secure vault in Zurich. And get this—Mara's voice is on the authorization log.
They had her.
Leo stared at the screen. "She's been using Claudia's ghost to clean money."
"And if we bring that to the authorities?" Amara asked.
"She'll run. She's too smart to go down without a plan."
Amara's brow furrowed. "Then we need a trap."
They staged a leak.
A fake email chain suggesting that Leo was preparing to release the Zurich vault details to a journalist. Matteo scattered breadcrumbs across dark web forums known to Mara's people. Within hours, they had a hit.
A plane ticket booked under one of Mara's aliases. Destination: Zurich.
Leo stood by the window, watching the storm clouds gather.
"She's going to try and erase the trail," he said. "Permanently."
Amara stepped beside him. "Then we have to get there first."
Zurich greeted them with snow and silence.
They moved fast—Matteo's contact inside the vault company confirmed that a woman matching Mara's description had scheduled an appointment under Claudia's identity.
"She'll be there in less than twelve hours," the contact whispered over the phone. "But don't get caught. These people don't just erase files."
Leo tucked the silver cicada pin into his coat. "We won't get caught."
At the vault, security was tight. Cameras. Keypads. Facial scans.
But Matteo had prepared them. With Claudia's old ID and a few digital tricks, they got in just before Mara arrived.
The room was stark—steel walls, locked boxes, a single chair in the center.
Box #417.
Leo opened it.
Inside were USB drives, photographs, and a single piece of paper with three names written on it:
Matteo Moretti
Claudia Vescari
Leonardo Moretti
Amara stared at the names. "Your family. Your love. You."
"They were her targets," Leo whispered. "She was erasing the last witnesses."
Suddenly, footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Amara grabbed his arm. "She's here."
They didn't hide.
When Mara stepped into the room, flanked by two guards, her expression flickered only briefly. Surprise. Then cold amusement.
"I should've known," she said. "The tragic prince, crawling from the grave."
Leo faced her, voice steady. "You used Claudia. You used me. It ends now."
Mara tilted her head. "You think you can threaten me? With what? A few files? Names?"
"No," Amara said, stepping forward. "With the truth."
Mara's gaze narrowed. "You're not part of this."
"I am now."
In that moment, Leo activated the device in his pocket—Matteo's gift. A transmitter, sending everything in the room to multiple secure locations.
Mara's smile vanished.
"You just signed your death warrants," she hissed.
Leo stepped closer. "Funny. I thought I already did—eight years ago."
The guards moved.
But so did Leo.
In a blur, the room exploded into motion—Amara ducked as Leo disarmed the first guard, slammed the second against the wall. Blood, shouts, chaos.
And then Mara was gone.
Slipped through the side door.
Amara ran after her.
She caught up in the hallway just as Mara turned, gun drawn.
"Step aside," Mara said.
Amara didn't move. "You're done."
Mara's hands trembled. "You don't understand. This wasn't about revenge. It was survival."
"You made it a war," Amara said. "And now the ghosts are coming for you."
Behind them, Leo appeared, silent and fierce.
Mara's gun wavered.
But she didn't shoot.
Instead, she dropped the weapon—and fled into the snow.
Back in the vault, Leo gathered the files.
"We have everything," he said.
"Then what now?" Amara asked.
He looked at her, the fire in his eyes dimming into something softer.
"Now we finish this."