The Cost of Power
Sophia had never feared blood.
But Ethan’s?
His blood wasn’t supposed to stain her hands.
The car ride back to her private estate was silent, the world outside a blur of city lights and passing figures that meant nothing compared to what she had just lost.
Ethan lay unconscious on the seat beside her, his shirt soaked in blood, his breath shallow but still there.
Still alive.
Sophia’s hands were steady. Too steady.
She wasn’t sure if it was shock or the numb realization that for the first time in years...
She had almost lost someone she cared about.
Not a soldier.
Not an ally.
Him.
And it wasn’t a rival family that had put a bullet in his chest.
It wasn’t an outside enemy.
It was her own empire collapsing under its own weight.
And she had let it happen.
Marco leaned against the cold brick wall of an abandoned building, pressing a bloodied cloth against his shoulder.
He had barely made it out alive.
His body ached, his head pounded, and yet...
His mind was on her.
Sophia.
The way she had looked at him when she realized Ethan was shot.
The way her lips parted, her breathing shallow, the flicker of something in her eyes that he had never seen before.
Fear?
No.
Something worse.
Love.
Marco let out a bitter breath.
He had known for a while that Sophia cared for Ethan.
But in that moment, when Ethan was bleeding out and she hadn’t even glanced at Marco...
He realized she would never look at him like that.
Not now.
Not after this.
And yet...
Despite everything, despite the fact that he had betrayed her, despite the fact that she would never trust him again...
He still wanted her.
That was the worst part.
He should be focused on survival.
On staying ahead of her wrath.
Instead?
He was thinking about how much he still loved her.
And how much he hated that she loved someone else.
Serena sat in the dim glow of a luxury penthouse, staring at her own reflection in the window.
She had spent years waiting for her moment.
Years preparing for the day Sophia would fall.
And now?
Now she was closer than ever.
The families were whispering.
Vasari had already reached out.
Conti was waiting for a sign.
If she wanted to take control, she had to make her move now.
And yet...
She hesitated.
Not because of fear.
Not because of doubt.
Because of Marco.
She had told herself she was done with him. That his betrayal of Sophia was just a piece of the game.
But when she had seen him in that warehouse, when she had seen the way he looked at Sophia even as she tried to kill him...
Something inside her had cracked.
Because Marco wasn’t just a man trying to survive.
He was a man still in love with another woman.
And if she stood beside him?
If she chose his side in this war?
She would be playing second to Sophia forever.
And that?
That was something she couldn’t accept.
The doctors worked on Ethan in silence.
Sophia stood by the door, watching, waiting, not moving.
She should be out there hunting Marco.
She should be meeting with the underbosses, proving her strength, making sure no one doubted that she was still in control.
But she couldn’t leave him.
Not until she knew he would wake up.
The doctor glanced at her. "He’s stable. But the next 24 hours are crucial."
Sophia exhaled. She didn’t thank him. She didn’t move.
She just kept watching Ethan.
Waiting.
For what?
For him to wake up?
For him to hate her for letting this happen?
For him to still want her, even after all of this?
She didn’t know.
And that terrified her.
Because Sophia Moretti had never needed anyone before.
She had never let herself.
But Ethan?
He was different.
And that?
That was something she couldn’t afford to feel.
Not now.
Not when the world was already falling apart.
The whispers had begun.
Sophia Moretti was vulnerable.
Marco was gone.
Ethan was dying.
The Moretti empire was unstable.
And for the first time in years, the families were starting to wonder...
Was she still fit to rule?
Romano met with Vasari.
Conti reached out to Serena.
The underbosses were choosing sides.
Because if Sophia wasn’t strong enough to hold the throne...
Someone else would take it from her.
And soon.
Marco sat in a darkened hotel room, a glass of whiskey untouched in front of him.
He had options.
He could run. Disappear. Start over.
Or...
He could fight.
He could take the war to Sophia before she came for him.
But there was only one problem.
He didn’t want to fight her.
He wanted to fight for her.
Even after everything.
Even knowing she wanted him dead.
His hand tightened around the glass.
If she thought he was just going to disappear...
She was wrong.
Sophia sat beside Ethan’s bed, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of her chair.
She had spent years ruling with fear.
Years making sure no one could get close enough to hurt her.
And yet...
Here she was.
Holding onto something she never planned for.
Ethan was in this mess because of her.
Marco had betrayed her because of something deeper than just power.
Serena was playing a game Sophia didn’t have time to stop.
And the families?
The families were waiting.
Waiting to see if she would break.
But Sophia Moretti didn’t break.
She didn’t fall apart.
She burned everything down before she ever let anyone take her throne.
She exhaled slowly, her gaze sharp, her mind clearing.
It was time.
No more waiting.
No more hesitation.
She turned to her guard at the door.
"Call a meeting with the underbosses," she murmured.
Her voice was steady again. Unshaken.
"And find Marco."
She leaned back slightly, watching Ethan’s slow, steady breathing.
"Tell him if he wants a war?"
A slow smirk curled on her lips.
"He can come home and face me himself."
The war had already begun.
But this time?
It wouldn’t be fought with guns.
It would be fought with love, betrayal, and loyalty.
And only one of them would survive it.