Amara didn't sleep.
Instead, she stood barefoot on the rooftop of Villa Moretti, wrapped in a silk robe, her hair unbound and dancing in the wind. Below her, the city shimmered in the dawn light beautiful, silent, deceptive. Like a kingdom about to burn.
The Veleno Syndicate wasn't just a rumor anymore. They were real. Ruthless. And worse, they were close.
They didn't come with guns blazing.
They came like ghosts.
They watched. Listened. Infiltrated.
And someone had let them in.
A traitor.
She gripped the cold stone ledge, the sting of the wind biting her skin. Her thoughts were razor sharp. If she didn't find the leak soon, everything her father built, everything she had claimed would crumble like Ash.
At dawn, she summoned Chiara.
The girl appeared in Amara's study like a summoned demon, a laptop under one arm, and a lollipop in her mouth.
"Your network's bleeding," she said without greeting. "And I don't mean the usual skimming and spyware. I mean, your organs are leaking, Donna."
Amara's eyes narrowed. "How deep?"
Chiara leaned against the desk and flicked her lollipop across the room like a dart. "Someone's rerouted three internal security lines. Planted dead-end loops in your tunnel surveillance. And hijacked two of your encrypted phones. Yours… and Enzo's."
Amara's pulse froze. "You're sure?"
Chiara didn't answer with words. She turned the laptop around.
It's a still image.
Amara and Luca Romano standing at the chapel ruins. Close. Heads bowed in quiet conversation.
Taken from a distance.
Then she slid another image forward.
The same photo — but printed.
A real copy.
Amara stared.
"Where did this come from?" she asked.
Chiara hesitated. "Delivered this morning. No address. No fingerprint. Just your name… and this."
She handed Amara the envelope.
Inside: the photo. And a single line, scrawled in elegant handwriting on the back:
> You're not the only ones with ghosts.
Amara didn't blink. But she felt it. That slow, icy burn of fury crawled up her spine.
She crushed the photo in her fist.
---
Later That Afternoon – Villa Moretti Courtyard
The sun had risen, but the cold didn't leave.
Enzo approached, breath short.
"There's a body," he said.
Amara turned slowly. "Whose?"
"Lorenzo Greco."
The name rang through her chest like a bullet.
He'd been one of her father's oldest guards. Quiet. Loyal. A shadow who never spoke unless spoken to.
"What happened?" she asked.
"We found him near the docks. Tortured. Killed. Left out like… a message."
"What was he doing there?"
Enzo shifted uneasily. "Following someone. Tracking movements from inside the estate. We think he was watching you. Secretly. Maybe a leftover order from Don Alessandro."
Amara's jaw tightened.
He'd been protecting her. Watching over her in silence. And now, he was dead — gutted and dumped like a warning.
Chiara joined them, out of breath. "I tracked Lorenzo's last outgoing signal."
"And?"
"It pinged off a private server. Not ours. Not public, either. Encrypted through something I've only seen once before."
She pulled up the same symbol they'd seen before.
The ouroboros, a serpent eating its own tail.
Veleno.
That Night – Underground Chamber
Amara stood before her most trusted inner circle: Enzo, Chiara, Rocco.
The air was heavy with smoke from the fireplace and the weight of secrets.
"We are no longer dealing with mafiosi," she said. "This isn't Bratva or Cosa Nostra. This isn't about drugs, guns, or control."
Chiara tapped the table, projecting an image onto the wall — a spiderweb of names, some real, some aliases, all tied to red dots.
"This is about dismantling," Amara continued. "One identity at a time. The Veleno Syndicate is a poison that moves slow. It replaces truth with whispers. It replaces people with shadows."
She placed the crushed photograph on the table.
"They know everything. Every meeting. Every shipment. Every kiss."
No one moved.
"Lorenzo died because he found something. Or someone."
"Then we need to move," Rocco said. "Quick and hard."
"No," Amara said sharply. "We move smart. Anyone could be compromised. Anyone could be part of this."
She turned to Chiara.
"Cross-reference all internal communications. Look for patterns. Timestamps. Anything tied to the Portici ambush."
Chiara blinked. "You think that's when it started?"
"No," Amara said quietly. "I think that's when it stopped being a secret."
Hours Later – Amara's Chambers
She stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Her face was unreadable. Her skin pale, flawless, hiding the fire beneath.
She touched her lips.
Luca's voice came back like smoke.
> "Are you here to kill me… or kiss me?"
She hated how much those words still echoed.
He had secrets, too. And whether he was trying to protect her or manipulate her, it no longer mattered.
Everyone was suspect.
Even him.
Especially him.
Midnight – Villa Moretti Tech Room
Chiara barged in, wild-eyed.
"I found something."
Amara sat up.
Chiara placed a stack of printouts on the desk.
"There were messages sent just before the Portici ambush. Not through text. Through file embeds in security updates. And the origin?"
She circled a name.
> Gianni.
Amara's blood ran cold.
"He's dead."
"Exactly. But someone's using his credentials. Someone inside. This means either Gianni had a backup plan — or someone stole his identity after death."
Enzo leaned forward. "Who has access to Gianni's admin codes?"
Chiara hesitated. "Technically, only three people. You. Me."
She paused.
"And Rocco."
Amara went stil
Final Scene – Chapel of the Villa
Amara returned to the place she always went when rage threatened to swallow her.
The old chapel. Broken. Sacred.
She knelt beneath the fractured crucifix, light bleeding through the stained glass above her.
She whispered into the stillness.
> "You taught me to fear nothing, Papà. You taught me to lead men with fire and steel. But you never taught me how to fight ghosts."
Her hand curled into a fist.
"But I will learn."
She stood slowly.
And as the last candle flickered out beside her, she said the words that would shape the war to come.
> "Let them come for my crown. Let them come with whispers and knives. I will answer them with fire. I will make the smoke bleed."