Gianna stared at the message on her burner phone like it was a ghost.
> "He's coming. Be ready."
—M.
Her fingers tightened around the device. Matteo. The one man more loyal to her father than blood itself.
And if Matteo had reached out, it only meant one thing.
Julian Moretti was on his way.
Her twin.
Her shadow.
Her ruin.
Gianna hadn't seen Julian in four years, not since he went off the radar for "special training" — which in La Rosa Nera terms translated to: disappear, learn every kind of assassination, and come back a monster.
If her father had called him back, it wasn't to send a message.
It was to finish one.
She glanced over at Kai, who was leaning against the far wall of the lounge, shirt unbuttoned halfway, tattoos peeking through like secrets carved into flesh. He was nursing a glass of bourbon, eyes trained on her but giving nothing away.
Typical.
Cold. Controlled. Infuriatingly unreadable.
"You keep staring at me like that," he muttered without looking up, "I'm gonna start thinking you like me."
"I'm wondering how hard I'd have to push you to fall off that balcony."
He gave a humorless smile. "You'd miss me."
Gianna hated how right he was.
---
Elsewhere, Lorenzo Castellano wasn't smiling.
He was seething.
"Julian Moretti?" he barked. "That psychotic little bastard's back in town?"
"Landed thirty minutes ago at a private strip outside Florence," Marsh confirmed, flipping his tablet around.
Lorenzo turned to Kai, eyes sharp. "This is your fault. You let her get too close. Let her think she matters."
"She does," Kai said flatly.
Lorenzo blinked. Once. Twice.
Then he let out a cold laugh. "The king falls for a spy. I raised you better than that."
Kai stood. "You raised a weapon. I turned into a man."
Lorenzo moved so fast the slap echoed before it landed.
Marsh flinched.
Kai didn't.
He just wiped his jaw, tasted blood, and smiled.
"If Julian comes for us," he said calmly, "we kill him."
Lorenzo sneered. "Then I hope you're ready to kill the one person she'd die to protect."
---
Julian arrived like a storm with no warning — cloaked in black, emotionless, followed by four elite La Rosa Nera assassins.
He didn't knock.
He kicked the Castellano penthouse door open and walked in like it belonged to him.
Gianna stood up so fast her chair screeched.
"Julian," she whispered.
He stopped. Studied her. His voice was ice. "You smell like him."
Gianna swallowed. "This isn't—"
"I don't care." He stepped closer. "You're wearing his ring. You sleep in his house. That makes you a traitor."
Kai entered from the other room, calmly cracking his knuckles.
"If you've got something to say," he said coolly, "say it to my face."
Julian grinned, slow and savage. "Gladly."
What happened next was a blur of fists, broken glass, and blood.
Julian moved like a ghost, brutal and precise.
But Kai was fury made flesh.
They slammed into walls, upended furniture, left the marble floor smeared with red.
Gianna screamed once. Only once.
Because part of her didn't want it to stop.
---
Later, Julian was gone — escorted out by Marsh, barely restrained, bleeding but smiling.
Kai sat on the couch, wiping blood from his mouth.
Gianna stood nearby, silent.
"I told you," she whispered, voice hoarse, "if I chose your side, my family would come for me."
He looked up. "You think this was for you? He came for me, Gianna. You just made it easier for him."
Her breath hitched.
He stood, walked to her, eyes dark.
"I don't trust you. Not fully. But I'm not letting you go."
Gianna's voice cracked. "Why?"
He leaned down, lips near her ear.
"Because if I can't trust you… I'll own you."
She slapped him.
Hard.
He caught her wrist before she could walk away.
But he didn't stop her.
---
That night, Gianna sat alone on the rooftop, stars cold above her.
She knew her father was watching.
She knew Julian was just the beginning.
She also knew she should've left at the altar. Should've run.
But she didn't.
She stayed.
Not because of duty.
Not even because of Kai.
But because something darker had taken root in her.
She wanted to see how far she could fall.
---
Far away, Alessio poured himself a drink, watching the footage from the penthouse brawl.
He tapped a button.
A voice answered. "Yes, boss?"
"Activate the sleeper," he said softly. "It's time for Plan Belladonna."
The call ended.
And the screen faded to black.