Across the Mediterranean, on the island of Corfu, Serena Veleno stood in silence, her eyes locked on a massive screen as flames danced across the grainy footage. Her surveillance base in Rome, once a silent eye watching Naples, now burned a blackened ruin where only ashes remained.
She didn't blink.
Behind her, the walls of the underground chamber gleamed with maps, dossiers, and photographs. Red string connected faces like a web of death. Targets. Weak links. Puppets.
In the very center of it all:
Amara Moretti. Luca Romano.
The room was chilled by steel, not air.
Serena turned slowly, her heels clicking against polished marble as she faced her war board. Two women flanked her, identical in face and dead in soul. Twins. Assassins.
Vira and Vale.
No last names. No fingerprints. Just precision and pain.
"Naples has grown arrogant," Serena said softly, her voice honeyed with venom. "They forget that shadows always return."
She raised a gloved hand and gestured toward the web of threads on the board.
"They strike one node," she said, tapping the burning facility's photo, "and think the web collapses. Fools. The web tightens."
Vira stepped forward, eyes sharp and voice cold. "They're aligning. Moretti and Romano. Naples and Rome."
Vale added, "Romano's reach gives them teeth. They'll bite soon."
Serena studied their faces. "Then we'll make them choke."
She pulled a silver pin from the wall and dragged it across the names of three Moretti lieutenants, men whose loyalty had never wavered.
Giacomo Ricci. Matteo Russo. Angelo Ferri.
"All three are near Naples," Serena said. "All three think they're safe."
She smiled.
"They die tonight."
Nightfall – Naples
Amara stood at the window of her study, staring into the dark. The villa was quiet. Too quiet.
Then, the first explosion shattered the sky.
A deep rumble thundered through the streets of Chiaia, and her radio crackled.
"Donna—safe house three is—" Static. "They've—oh God—"
The line went dead.
Chiara burst in moments later, holding a tablet and barely breathing.
"They hit us," she said. "Three locations. All in the last ten minutes."
Amara's heartbeat went sharp.
"Where?"
Chiara tapped furiously. "Giacomo Ricci blown up inside his armored car near Mergellina. Matteo Russo ambushed by sniper fire. Dead before he left the café. Angelo Ferri bodyguards taken out. He's missing. We think kidnapped."
Enzo stormed into the room next. "One of our scout cafes, burned. Staff dead. Customers, too. Civilians."
Amara moved like lightning.
Within ten minutes, she stood in the rubble of the safe house near the port, smoke curling through the air, her coat flapping behind her.
Flames still licked at the foundation. The front gate lay twisted in a heap of steel and ash.
She bent down as a gust of wind shifted debris and found it.
A strip of fabric.
Black. Rough. Edged with silver.
And stitched across it:
A scorpion.
Chiara stepped beside her. "A calling card."
Amara turned the cloth over in her gloved hands. Her voice was shaking, not from fear but fury.
"They want a message?" she whispered. "Fine. They'll get one."
Midnight – Phone Call: Amara & Luca
Amara dialed. No encryption. No delay.
He picked up on the second ring.
"They hit three of my people," she said, her voice sharp. "Burned a building. Civilians died."
Luca didn't sound surprised. "Serena doesn't waste time. She was raised by warlords in the Balkans. She doesn't make idle threats."
Amara's grip on the phone tightened.
"They want us broken," she said. "They want us to fall apart from the inside."
Luca sighed. "Then we answer. Not in whispers. Not in code."
There was a beat of silence between them. Not trust. But agreement.
"We go loud," Amara said.
"We go lethal," Luca finished.
Planning Room – Villa Moretti
Maps were unfurled across the table. Every light in the war room blazed. The air was thick with adrenaline and gunpowder.
Chiara slammed down a flash drive. "I've got names. Locations. They're using Milan and Palermo as transport hubs. Weapons, bodies, cash. All tied to Serena."
Amara stood at the head of the table, fingers splayed on the map. She drew a red circle around Palermo.
"They're using port warehouses. It is fronted by a fake produce company."
Enzo added, "I've got a crew ready. Explosives. Vets from my days in Sicily. They'll burn it to the ground."
Chiara looked up. "Milan?"
Amara didn't hesitate. "Luca handles Milan."
"Are you sure?"
"I don't trust him," she cut in. "I need him."
She looked at Chiara, then Enzo.
"This isn't just a counterstrike. This is the beginning of the hunt."
Operation: Palermo – Three Hours Later
The warehouse on Via Zisa stood silent, surrounded by crates of "citrus" and unmarked containers. The guards smoked lazily. It was quiet.
Until it wasn't.
Three black SUVs tore through the barricade. Gunfire erupted like thunder.
Men screamed. Crates exploded. Gasoline ignited.
Inside, Enzo led the charge, masked and merciless.
The final explosion rocked the entire port.
And painted the sky orange.
Operation: Milan – Led by Luca
At the edge of Milan's financial district, a front company posing as a shipping firm had been quietly laundering Veleno funds.
Luca's men stormed the building before dawn. He led from the front, pistol drawn, coat streaked with blood.
By the time local authorities arrived, the building was in flames, and every computer hard drive had been drilled through.
Another warning was sent.
Villa Moretti – Morning After
Amara stood on the terrace, watching the smoke rise from the city's edges.
Naples was bruised. Bloodied.
But not bowed.
Chiara stepped up beside her, coffee in hand.
"Reports from Milan just came in," she said. "Everything burned. Luca did it clean."
Amara didn't look away. "And Palermo?"
"Silent. Nothing left but soot."
Amara let out a breath.
For the first time in weeks… she didn't feel like she was drowning.
She felt like she was winning.
But far away, across the sea…
Corfu – Serena's Private Study
Serena sat in a velvet chair, swirling wine in a crystal glass. A small fire crackled beside her.
Vale stepped forward, placing a tablet on the table.
"Palermo's gone. So is Milan."
Serena set down her glass.
And smiled.
"A queen who plays with fire," she murmured, "never sees the blade waiting in the smoke."
She looked at Vira and Vale.
"Let them celebrate. Let them feel powerful. Let them think the game has turned."
She stood.
"Because now… the real move begins."