★★Leon's POV★★



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As I stare at Alessia's file, I dig deeper into her portfolio. At 41, she lost her life behind a dimly lit bar in La Luna Nera, a quiet bar tucked into the backstreets of Naples sharing drinks with a couple of friends.

But why?

That's the question that gnaws at me. Did Theodoros love her but couldn't have her? Was it revenge—some twisted power move against the Italians? Or was it simply the wrong place at the wrong time?

Theories swirl in my mind, each more unsettling than the last. I close the file and lean back in my chair, taking a sip of whiskey. The sharp burn soothes my nerves. It's been a week since the Greeks launched their attack—seven days of silence. Too quiet. There's no way they haven't discovered the aftermath by now. They're planning something. I'll find out what.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. My fingers tighten around the glass as I call out, "Enter."

Iyana steps in, her white ruffled skirt swaying with each step. She's paired it with a sleek black bodysuit, knee-high boots, and her ever-present purse. She looks like she's dressed for war—or maybe a date.

"Hey," she says, tone casual as she glances around the room. "Father isn't here, so I'm just letting you know I'm heading over to the De Angelis estate."

My chest tightens at her words. Mariella. She didn't say her name, but the thought of her is enough to send a chill down my spine. I take another sip of my drink, masking the sudden tension. "What is this? A playdate with Mariella?" I ask, my tone teasing, though the sharp edge isn't lost on her.

Iyana crosses her arms, shooting me a glare. "Goodbye, Leon," she says, clearly annoyed. She spins on her heel, ready to leave, but I'm up in an instant.

"Attendez,(Wait,)" I say, my tone sharp enough to make her pause. I grab my phone and shove the file into the drawer, locking it with a quiet click.

She arches a brow, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "What?" she asks, her voice softer now.

"I'll drop you off," I say briskly, brushing past her and heading toward the garage.

Iyana scrambles to catch up. "It's fine, brother. Marco can take me," she insists, but I ignore her.

"Marco can take a break," I reply flatly, plucking a key from the cabinet.

Her confusion deepens as I unlock one of the cars, its sleek frame gleaming under the garage lights. The beep of the alarm echoes in the space as I open the driver's side door. She still stands there, frozen.

"Well?" I say, irritation seeping into my tone. "I don't have all day."

Rolling her eyes, she moves to the passenger side. "You're so dramatic," she mutters under her breath, sliding into the seat.

I smirk as I start the car, the engine purring to life. "You haven't seen dramatic yet," I reply, the corner of my mouth twitching.

As we pull out of the garage, I glance at her briefly. The thought of seeing Mariella makes my pulse quicken. Iyana might think this is about her, but she couldn't be more wrong.

After a couple of hours, we finally reach the towering gates of the De Angelis estate. Two guards stand at their post, armed and watchful. I pull up to a stop in front of them, rolling my window down with an irritated sigh.

One of the guards steps forward, his thick Italian accent cutting through the stillness. "Leon Laurent," he says, his eyes narrowing slightly in recognition.

I force a tight, mocking smile. "Hi, buddy. I don't have all day—open the gate." My tone is dry, dripping with impatience.

Before the guard can respond, Iyana leans across my side of the window, flashing a bright, innocent smile. "Hi! I'm Iyana. I'm supposed to meet Mariella today, and my brother forgot to add in the word please." Her voice is laced with a hint of irritation as she side-eyes me.

I glance at her and scoff, then look back at the guard. "What she said," I mutter, my tone sharp.

The guard glares at me for a moment but then exchanges a glance with his partner. With a nod, they activate the gates, which creak as they slowly open.

As we begin to roll forward, I can't help myself. "Good boy," I say mockingly, smirking as I pull through before they have the chance to retort.

Iyana mutters under her breath, "You're so annoying."

I ignore her, keeping my focus on the long driveway ahead. The estate looms in the distance, its grandeur basking under the blazing sun. When we finally come to a stop in front of the sprawling mansion, the sunlight casts rainbow reflections against the tall windows. I kill the engine, step out, and lean casually against the car.

Iyana waits expectantly, but I remain rooted in place, lighting up a cigarette. The acrid smoke curls into the warm air as I take a long drag. My eyes scan the estate, waiting.

Minutes pass, and then the double doors creak open. Mariella appears at the top of the stairs, holding the edge of her long flowing skirt with one hand. The matching top hugs her frame perfectly, and her hair falls like a cascade of silk. Her radiant smile lights up when she spots Iyana.

"Iyana!" she calls, descending the stairs quickly before pulling her into a warm embrace.

"I'm here!" Iyana replies cheerfully, hugging her back.

But Mariella's gaze shifts over Iyana's shoulder and lands on me. Her smile falters, her expression tightening as if bracing herself.

I grin at her reaction, enjoying the discomfort I evoke. "Little princess," I greet, my voice teasing yet laced with intent.

Her jaw tightens as she steps back from Iyana, crossing her arms. "Leon?" she asks, her tone clipped. She clearly hadn't expected me to show up today.

"I didn't know he was coming," she mutters, turning to Iyana for an explanation.

Iyana offers an apologetic shrug. "Me either. Apparently, his life is so boring, he has to invade mine." She shoots me a glare before turning back to Mariella.

I take another drag from my cigarette, the ember glowing briefly before I exhale a plume of smoke. Mariella watches me, her irritation clear as day.

"You shouldn't litter," she says, her voice sharp as her gaze flickers to the cigarette I just dropped.

I chuckle softly, stubbing the cigarette out with the heel of my shoe. "Apologies, little princess. Won't happen again." I bend down to pick it up, slipping the butt into my pocket.

Her lips twitch as if she's fighting back a smile, but the faint blush rising to her cheeks betrays her. I smirk, satisfied with her reaction.

Before I can say more, Mariella's blonde friend appears, bounding down the stairs with a wide grin. "Oh my God, Iyana! Hey, girl!" she exclaims, completely oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.

As the girls reunite, my eyes remain locked on Mariella. She's avoiding looking at me now, but my gaze trails down her body anyway. She's absolutely fucking lethal. Every curve, every movement—it's impossible to ignore.

When she finally looks back at me, she catches me staring. Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and I feel my chest tighten. Damn it. My pants feel uncomfortably tight, and I curse silently.

Fuck, Mariella.

Breaking the spell, Mariella turns to her friend and Iyana. "I need to go shopping," she announces, her tone light but deliberate. "I have a date tonight."

I freeze. The words slam into me like a freight train.

A date? With who?

Iyana perks up, intrigued. "I'm so down! Who's the lucky guy?"

Mariella glances at me briefly before responding. "Niko Zervos."

The name sends a surge of anger through me. My fist clenches at my side, my knuckles whitening. Before I can stop myself, I step forward and grab her wrist.

She startles, her wide eyes darting between my hand and my face. "Leon," she says, her voice low and warning.

I ignore her, my grip tightening. "Niko?" I growl, the name tasting bitter on my tongue.

"Leon, let go!" she snaps, trying to pull away, but I don't budge.

Her friend and Iyana stare at us, confused and concerned. Mariella's glare hardens as she leans in slightly. "Take your hands off me," she says, her voice icy.

"No." I reply coldly, dragging her away despite her protests.

"Leon!" she yells, but I don't stop. Her heels click against the cobblestone path as I pull her toward the back of the estate.

"We need to talk," I snap, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Mariella looks back at the others and forces a reassuring smile. "I'll be back," she says, her voice tight with forced calm.

When we're finally alone in the garden, far from prying eyes, I release her wrist. She stumbles forward, catching herself before spinning around to face me.

"What the hell is your problem?" she hisses, rubbing her wrist where my fingers had gripped her.

I step closer, closing the distance between us. She glares up at me, but there's a flicker of unease in her eyes.

"You're not going on a date with Niko," I growl, my voice low and dangerous.

Her jaw tightens. "You don't get to tell me what to do, Leon."

I tower over her, my gaze boring into hers. "Like hell I don't," I snarl, my tone sharp enough to cut glass.

Mariella takes a step back, but I follow, closing the gap again. Her back hits the edge of a stone bench, and she stares up at me, defiant yet uncertain.

"This isn't your business," she says, her voice faltering slightly.

"Everything about you is my business, little princess," I reply, my voice dripping with intensity.

She swallows hard, her composure slipping for just a moment. I lean in closer, my breath ghosting over her ear. "Cancel the date, Mariella. Or I will."

Her lips part, but no words come out. She's caught between anger and something else—something unspoken but electric. And in that charged silence, I wait, daring her to defy me.

She suddenly straightens, her eyes narrowing as she crosses her arms. "What's your problem, Leon?" she snaps, her voice sharp and challenging.

I rake my hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. She follows the movement, her eyes lingering, and for a fleeting moment, she falters, swallowing hard.

"Princess," I say, my voice low and gravelly, "are we just going to forget what happened back at the casino?"

Her face tightens, and I know the memory hits her just as hard as it hits me. She found out Niko Zervos had some connection—hell, maybe even responsibility—for her mother's death. And now, she's willingly putting herself in his orbit?

A date? I can't wrap my head around it.

"What are you talking about?" she mutters, feigning ignorance.

I step closer, my voice barely above a growl. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. Why the fuck would you go on a date with him, Mariella? For all I know, you'll end up just like her."

The words come out harsher than I intended, but the thought of something happening to her twists my stomach into knots. I force myself to stop, trying to push the thought away before it consumes me.

She stares at me, stunned and angry, her lips parting as if to snap back. But I don't give her the chance. I take her jaw gently but firmly in my hand, my thumb brushing across her cheek. She freezes, caught off guard.

Her eyes soften, and for the first time in what feels like forever, she looks at me—not with defiance, but with something quieter, something that makes her look vulnerable. My thumb moves in slow, deliberate strokes, and she relaxes under my touch.

"Leon," she whispers, her voice quiet, almost pleading. "I'll be fine."

Her reassurance isn't enough—not for me. Not when the risk is so high. My thumb stills, and my fingers grip her chin, tilting her face up so I can look her in the eye.

"Fine isn't enough, little princess," I murmur, my gaze locking onto hers.

She studies me, her expression unreadable, then suddenly steps forward, grabbing my arm. Her grip is strong, her knuckles white as she pulls me closer.

"Trust me," she says firmly, her eyes blazing with a fire that rivals my own. "Do you really think I'm enjoying this? Do you think I want to be near that bastard?"

Her voice rises, and I feel the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "I want that motherfucker in hell, and I'll be the one dragging his ass there," she says through gritted teeth, her glare sharp enough to cut steel.

I smirk despite myself. That fire—that unrelenting rage—it's something I've always admired in her. She catches my expression and, for a brief moment, her lips curve into a smile.

For a second, the world fades. It's just the two of us, standing close, breathing in sync. My eyes drop to her lips, soft and inviting, and I see her glance at mine, her chest rising and falling as she takes shallow breaths.

But I can't.

I won't.

I pull back abruptly, shoving my hands into my pockets as I create distance between us.

Her smile disappears instantly, replaced with confusion and irritation. "What the hell is up your ass?" she snaps, her tone sharp enough to leave a mark.

I glare at her, my jaw tightening as I scoff. "My ass?" I repeat mockingly, chuckling bitterly. "Oh, you're really something, aren't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demands, stepping forward, her finger jabbing at my chest.

I take a step forward, looming over her, and her confidence wavers for half a second. "It means," I growl, "you're reckless, stubborn, and too damn naïve to see when you're walking straight into danger."

She scoffs, crossing her arms. "I can handle myself, Leon. I don't need you swooping in like some overbearing protector."

"Handle yourself?" I say, my voice rising. "This isn't some game, Mariella. This is Niko-fucking-Zervos we're talking about. Do you even realize what he's capable of?"

"I know exactly what he's capable of!" she yells back, stepping closer until there's barely any space between us. Her eyes are blazing with fury, but there's something else there—something raw and unspoken. "You think I don't know the stakes? You think I don't know the risks?"

I lower my voice, leaning in until our faces are inches apart. "Then why the hell are you doing this?"

"Because it's my fight, not yours!" she snaps, her voice cracking. "You don't get to decide how I handle it. You don't get to control me!"

We stand there, staring each other down, the tension so thick it's suffocating. My fists clench, and for a moment, I think about saying something—anything—that might get through to her. But I know her too well. She's as stubborn as they come, and no amount of arguing is going to change her mind.

I take a step back, my gaze hard and unrelenting. "Fine," I say coldly. "Do whatever the hell you want. But don't come crying to me when it all goes to shit."

Her eyes widen slightly at the harshness of my words, but she quickly masks it with anger. "Like the hell I would." she spits, her voice venomous.

I turn on my heel and start walking away, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. Just before I disappear around the corner, I glance back over my shoulder, my voice calm but cutting.

"You think you're ready for this world, Mariella? You're not. But you'll learn. The hard way."

With that, I leave her standing there, the echo of my words lingering in the air like smoke from a fire that refuses to burn out.

I storm back to my car, my blood boiling. My steps are quick and heavy, every ounce of irritation pouring into the ground beneath me. I don't care. She can do whatever the hell she wants. Fuck her, for all I care.

I yank the car door open, ready to leave this place and its chaos behind, but before I can slide in, a voice calls out behind me.

"Excuse me," the voice says, sharp and clipped.

I freeze, rolling my eyes, my patience already worn thin. The irritation bubbles up, and I slowly turn around, glaring over my shoulder. It's him. That idiot who follows Mariella around like some lapdog—Gio.

"What?" I snap, my voice dripping with venom.

He stands there, arms crossed, his face set in a mask of annoyance. "Do you know where Miss Mariella is?" he asks, his tone formal but laced with irritation.

I scoff, leaning lazily against the car door, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Aren't you her fucking dog? Shouldn't you know?" I say mockingly, my eyes narrowing in disdain.

His jaw tightens, and he takes a step forward, clearly ready to throw hands. I straighten up immediately, stepping toward him, refusing to back down. Our faces are inches apart now, and the air is charged with hostility.

"You've got a smart mouth," he growls, his eyes locking onto mine.

"Yeah, and you've got no balls," I shoot back, my tone icy. "What are you gonna do about it, Gio? Huh? Bark louder?"

Before either of us can escalate further, Mariella's sharp voice cuts through the tension like a knife.

"Enough, both of you!" she shouts, her tone firm and commanding.

I glance past Gio, and there she is, striding toward us, her expression a mix of anger and exhaustion. She grabs Gio's arm and pulls him back, her small frame surprisingly forceful.

"Gio, abbastanza, (Enough)" she says, her voice softer but no less stern.

He glances at her, his annoyance melting slightly as he nods. "Fine," he mutters, stepping back, but his glare is still fixed on me.

Mariella turns to me next, her eyes locking onto mine. There's anger there, sure, but something else too. Nervousness? Concern? I can't tell, and honestly, I don't care.

"Go, Leon," she says firmly, her voice steady despite the storm raging between us.

I raise an eyebrow, my lips curling into a smirk. "What's wrong, princess?" I ask mockingly, leaning against the car. "Afraid I might say something to hurt your little pet's feelings?"

Her jaw tightens, and she steps forward, her tone sharper this time. "I said go,"

I stare at her for a moment, then chuckle darkly, shaking my head. "Don't worry," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I push off the car. "I'll fuck off. Just like you want."

Her eyes flare with frustration, but she doesn't say anything as I get in the car and slam the door shut. I turn the engine on, and with a smirk still plastered on my face, I press the gas. The tires screech loudly as I spin the car, sending a cloud of dust and gravel flying toward Gio's perfectly polished shoes.

As I drive down the long estate driveway, I glance in the rearview mirror, only to see Mariella standing there, glaring after me, her middle finger raised high in the air.

She is so gonna regret that.

I laugh, shaking my head as I light up a cigarette, the tension in my chest still coiled tight. "She's gonna be the death of me," I mutter to myself, blowing out a cloud of smoke as the highway stretches ahead of me.

My hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as I replay the whole damn scene in my head. Her face, her voice, the way she looks at me like she's the only one who can stand toe-to-toe with me.

"Fucking Mariella," I growl under my breath, running a hand through my hair as the cigarette dangles from my lips. My pulse is still racing, and I know damn well it's not just the anger.

Disgust and desire mix in my gut and explode outward. A volatile poison flooding through my system and that's what I'm starting to believe my little princess is...poison.

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OH-OHHH

DO I SMELL A LOVE TRIANGLE??

wait mariella is on a date with niko? HELLO??

Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ

Maddie♡

*Mariella's outfit*