The Return of Marco

Sophia had never been good at waiting.

Patience was for people who had the luxury of time.

But tonight, time felt like the enemy.

Ethan lay in her private medical suite, his breathing steady but weak. The machines beeped in a quiet, rhythmic reminder that he was still alive.

That should have been enough.

But it wasn’t.

Not when the last thing she remembered was the way his eyes had darkened with pain. The way his lips had barely formed her name before he collapsed in her arms.

Sophia exhaled, smoothing a hand down her silk blouse, trying to shake the feeling of helplessness.

She didn’t do helpless.

She ruled. She dictated. She controlled.

But here?

Watching him fight to stay alive?

She felt like she was losing something she couldn’t afford to lose.

Then...

A quiet sound.

A shift in the air.

She turned sharply...

And found Ethan’s eyes fluttering open.

A slow exhale left her lips.

"You're awake," she murmured, her voice softer than she intended.

Ethan blinked, his gaze sluggish as he tried to focus. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"Sophia…?"

Something unfamiliar flickered in her chest.

A feeling she had spent her entire life avoiding.

Relief.

"Yes," she said quietly, shifting closer.

Ethan groaned, trying to move, but she pressed a firm hand against his arm.

"Don’t," she ordered. "You’re not strong enough."

A weak smirk touched his lips. "That’s the first time you’ve ever admitted I’m not strong enough for something."

Sophia’s expression didn’t change. But the corner of her lips twitched.

"You nearly died," she said evenly.

His smirk faded, his gaze searching hers.

"But I didn’t," he murmured.

Sophia didn’t look away.

"No," she said softly. "You didn’t."

And for the first time in years, she didn’t know if that was because she had saved him...

Or because he had saved her.

The Moretti estate was as imposing as ever.

Tall, dark, a fortress of power and intimidation.

And Marco?

Marco had once belonged there.

Now, he was returning as a ghost.

The guards at the front tensed the moment they saw him, their hands shifting toward their weapons.

"Boss doesn’t want to see you," one of them said flatly.

Marco smirked. "Then it’s a good thing I’m not here to ask for permission."

The guards hesitated.

Because Marco wasn’t just anyone.

He had built this empire with Sophia.

He had stood beside her long before Ethan ever existed.

And even now?

Even after everything?

A part of him still belonged here.

"She’ll kill you," one of the guards muttered.

Marco’s smirk didn’t fade.

"Yeah," he murmured. "She might."

Then he pushed past them and walked into the lion’s den.

Sophia had barely stepped out of Ethan’s room when she saw him.

Standing in the middle of her home.

Marco.

Her fingers twitched at her side, a familiar burn creeping through her veins.

"You're either brave or stupid," she murmured, her voice ice.

Marco exhaled, his gaze steady. "Maybe both."

Sophia tilted her head slightly, assessing him.

He looked different.

Still sharp. Still dangerous.

But there was something else.

Something that made her uneasy.

"You shouldn’t be here," she said finally.

Marco smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"And yet, here I am."

Silence stretched between them.

A silence too full of history.

Then...

"You almost killed me."

Sophia didn’t blink. "I should have."

Marco chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. Maybe."

His gaze flicked toward the hallway where Ethan lay, then back to her.

"You love him."

Sophia didn’t react.

Didn’t deny it.

And that?

That was all the answer Marco needed.

For the first time in years, he felt something foreign claw at his chest.

Jealousy.

Not just for her.

But for what she had let Ethan have.

A part of her that Marco had never been able to touch.

"Is that why you came back?" she asked. "To see for yourself?"

Marco exhaled.

"No," he murmured. "I came back because we both know this war isn’t over."

Sophia’s eyes darkened.

"And whose side are you on, Marco?"

A slow smirk curled his lips.

"Depends," he murmured. "Whose side are you on?"

Serena leaned back in her chair, sipping wine as she listened to Lorenzo Vasari.

"The underbosses are nervous," he murmured. "Sophia is still strong, but… she’s distracted."

Serena hummed. "Because of Ethan."

Vasari nodded.

"And Marco?" she asked.

"Returned to her estate tonight."

Serena’s fingers stilled against her glass.

He went back to her?

Even after everything?

She should have expected it.

Marco had always belonged to Sophia first.

And now?

Now he was choosing her again.

Serena exhaled, setting her glass down.

"The families are waiting for a shift in power," Vasari continued. "If we move now, we can push Sophia into a corner. She’s lost control of Marco. Ethan is weak. The timing is perfect."

Serena tapped her nails against the glass.

Timing was everything.

And yet...

She found herself hesitating.

Because if she made this move, there was no going back.

She would be Sophia’s enemy.

For good.

And a part of her wasn’t sure if she was ready to let go of that alliance.

Of her.

But power didn’t wait for emotions.

And if she hesitated now?

She would never have another chance.

Serena exhaled, meeting Vasari’s gaze.

"Then we move," she murmured.

And just like that...

The war for the Moretti empire began.

Sophia and Marco standing face to face, neither willing to break first.

Ethan alive, but weakened, unaware of the war brewing outside his door.

Serena choosing power over loyalty, making her final move.

The underbosses shifting allegiances, ready to follow the strongest.

And for the first time in years...

Sophia Moretti wasn’t sure who would survive.