Amara met with the remaining Moretti allies, some loyal, some wavering.
She revealed everything: the corruption, her mother's murder, the Romano alliance. Gasps filled the room.
"You think we can trust her?" one capo whispered.
"She's braver than all of you," Enzo said. "She's not just continuing Alessandro's legacy. She's cleaning it."
The room quieted.
They didn't just see a daughter anymore.
They saw a leader.
And Amara took control with both hands.
To solidify her position, Amara attended a masked gala in Rome hosted by neutral mafia dignitaries. A place where blood couldn't spill, but alliances were forged.
She walked in like royalty, dressed in deep burgundy, eyes fierce behind a gold lace mask.
And then she saw him.
Luca.
In black. Unmasked. As if daring her.
They danced once silently. Every step was a threat, every glance a warning.
"You keep surprising me," he said.
"I'm not done yet," she whispered.