★★Mariella's POV★★



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The room is filled with men in expensive suits—thick necks, sharp eyes, and even sharper egos. They're multi-billionaires, but they don't intimidate me.

Not even a little.

I'm sitting in the back corner, twirling a pen between my fingers, already bored. I could be out killing someone, but instead, I'm here at my father's request, tagging along with Enzo, who's the one they're all here for. He's the heir to the throne, the one who's going to take over the Italian mafia when our father steps down.

This meeting?

It's about expansion—growth, influence, territory. We need to prove that even billionaires can't play in our world without facing consequences. Our father's empire is already vast, but we're looking to stretch it further, take over bigger markets. But it's not enough to just be wealthy. No, we need to remind these rich men that there will always be someone bigger than them.

That someone is us.

Enzo leans forward, a grin tugging at his lips. His confidence is a weapon, and he knows how to wield it.

"So, gentlemen," Enzo says, his voice smooth like velvet but with an edge that cuts through the air. "You've all come here today to discuss something very important. You want to expand. We want to expand. But what you're not seeing is that if you don't align with us, you won't just lose your investments—you'll lose everything. And I'm not just talking about money."

The room shifts uneasily. They know what he means. We've built this empire on loyalty, threats, and sometimes, a well-placed bullet. Enzo doesn't hesitate. He's been raised for this, trained to make decisions quickly, without second thoughts.

The higher-ups are trying to play their hand, but they're not as smart as they think they are. They try to argue, claim their deals are solid, that we don't need them. But I can see through it all. Their masks are so thin. They all want to make a deal with us—but they don't know what's coming.

One of the men, a balding bastard with more wrinkles than sense, tries to push back. "Your father's empire is old news, Enzo. The world is changing, and we don't need to be attached to your legacy to make money."

Enzo doesn't flinch. He looks at the man with cold eyes. "You're not here to make money, you're here to survive." He gestures toward me. "My sister, Mariella, is an assassin. If you think we can't make your life hell, you're gravely mistaken."

I stand up, letting my voice echo through the room. "I have no problem ruining your entire life just for fun," I say, eyes narrowing on the balding man. "What makes you think you're so untouchable?"

I watch as the color drains from his face. He knows I mean it. He knows my hands are stained with blood.

"We didn't come here to threaten," Enzo continues, his voice now low and deadly. "We came here to prove to you that we're the only game in town. There's no one bigger, no one more powerful. You can either be part of our empire, or we can erase you from existence."

I smile to myself. They're all squirming now.

Enzo leans back, arms crossed, letting the tension build. "Make no mistake, gentlemen. We're here to expand, and we're going to do it our way. If you want to keep your assets intact, if you want to keep your businesses running, you'll align with us. Or else, we'll remind you how quickly we can pull the rug out from under you."

The room is silent. I can practically hear their hearts beating faster, the fear creeping into their bones. One by one, they start nodding, agreeing, offering deals. They can't afford not to.

I look over at Enzo, watching him work. He's born for this. He knows exactly how to make them crawl. He's the one pulling the strings. Me? I'm just here for the chaos. I want to ruin their lives, watch them squirm, break them down and remind them that no amount of money can protect them from me.

When it's all said and done, Enzo stands up, shaking hands with them, sealing the deals. They're all agreeing to whatever he asks, knowing full well the consequences if they don't.

I don't bother shaking anyone's hand. Instead, I leave the room first, already moving on to the next thing that will entertain me. I don't need to be a part of this—the deals, the promises, the power. I've got what I came for: the thrill of knowing that these men will never forget the day they bowed to us.

Enzo can have the throne. I'll keep playing with their lives from the shadows.

The second we step out of that suffocating room, I throw my arms up in the air dramatically.

"Well, that was fun," I say, stretching like I just finished a light workout. "Watching rich men squirm really makes my day. We should do this more often."

Enzo, walking beside me, exhales sharply. "Mariella, shut up."

I grin, unfazed. "What? I'm just saying, if I had known business meetings were this entertaining, I would have come to more of them." I glance back at the building. "Although, I was kinda hoping someone would cry. Maybe next time."

Enzo pinches the bridge of his nose. "You are insufferable."

"And yet, you love me."

"I tolerate you."

Papa chuckles, walking ahead of us, hands in his pockets, completely at ease. The deal went exactly as planned, and as always, we left with more power than we came in with. The weight of his pride settles over us like a warm embrace.

"You did amazing, Mariella," Papa says, turning his dark gaze to me. "You both did."

Enzo straightens beside me, ever the dutiful heir, but I just smile lazily. "I know."

Papa smirks at my confidence before clapping a hand on Enzo's shoulder. "Very soon, Enzo will take over, and you and Santino will stand beside him like the strong family we are." His voice is firm, final. "This is how we thrive. This is how we survive."

Enzo nods, his jaw tight. He's been preparing for this his whole life, but I can tell the weight of it is pressing down on him more and more. I don't envy him. Being boss? That's exhausting. I'd rather play my own games in the shadows.

Papa turns to me again, his gaze softening slightly. "I'm proud of you both."

That? That makes something in my chest tighten just a little. Papa doesn't hand out compliments freely. So when he does, it actually means something.

"Yeah, yeah," I wave him off, pretending I don't care as much as I do. "You should be."

I stepped out of the high-stakes meeting with my father and Enzo, my heels clicking against the polished marble floors of the luxurious high-rise. The weight of power still hung in the air, thick with unspoken threats and sealed deals. The billionaires in that room had been reminded—yet again—that no amount of wealth could outmatch the grip of the Italian mafia. My father had ensured that. Enzo had enforced it. And I had simply enjoyed watching men with more money than sense squirm under our thumbs.

But I wasn't done for the day.

While Enzo and my father stayed behind, discussing the finer details of our empire's expansion, I had my own business to attend to. Unlike my brother, I wasn't content to simply inherit power—I wanted to build something of my own. Something bigger than a family name. Something that didn't just demand respect, but commanded it. And to do that, I needed connections beyond my father's reach.

That's where William Carter came in.

A self-made American billionaire, Carter had built an empire that stretched across real estate, technology, and the darker corners of industry. He wasn't a mafia boss, but he didn't need to be. When you have enough money, enough power, you don't have to get your hands dirty—people do it for you. And that's exactly the kind of influence I needed if I wanted to fast-track my own network.

I ran my hands over my crisp button-up shirt, the tailored fabric hugging me perfectly, paired with matching flared dress pants that elongated my legs. My black stilettos added the perfect touch of power to my stride, each step a silent declaration of confidence. My hair was pulled into a high, sleek ponytail, cascading in voluminous curls down my back—polished yet effortlessly commanding.

If I was going to handle business, I might as well look the part.

Papa glances at me as we step outside, the sun casting sharp shadows over the sleek black cars lined up for them. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit, looking every bit the powerful man he was, before turning back to me.

"Come. We have another meeting," he said, expecting her to follow without question.

I tilted my head slightly, slipping on my sunglasses as if I hadn't just decided otherwise. "Oh, Papa, I'd love to, but I already have plans."

His sharp eyes flickered with suspicion. "Plans?"

I nodded smoothly. "Yes. Important ones."

His jaw tightened slightly, but he didn't press—yet. He expected my obedience, but he also knew me well enough to recognize when I was deliberately keeping something from him. He just didn't know what.

Enzo, standing beside him, gave me a look—half irritated, half amused. "Try not to burn down Milan while you're at it."

I placed a hand over my heart mockingly. "Who, me? I would never."

Papa exhaled through his nose, clearly too busy to waste time pulling more information out of me. "Fine," he said finally. "But be smart, Mariella. I don't want to hear about you causing problems I have to clean up."

I flashed a dazzling smile. "When have I ever been a problem?"

Enzo scoffed, and Papa just gave me a long look before turning away, heading toward his car.

Little did they know, the real meeting I had today wasn't just for my amusement. It was for my future. For something bigger than the family business.

Something that would change everything.

****

The venue was a private lounge in one of Milan's most exclusive clubs—no cameras, no prying eyes, just power in its rawest form. The kind of place where fortunes were made and ruined over a single drink.

I walked in like I owned the place, exuding confidence with every step. I had dressed for the occasion—sleek, elegant, dangerously captivating. A woman who didn't just belong at the table, but expected it to be set for her.

At the far end of the dimly lit lounge, William Carter sat in his usual air of controlled dominance. Mid-fifties, sharp blue eyes that had seen empires rise and fall, dressed in an expensive suit that screamed old money. He was sipping whiskey, completely at ease, as if the world itself bent to his will.

Good. We understood each other already.

I slid into the seat across from him, crossing my legs slowly, deliberately. "Mr. Carter, a pleasure."

He studied me, a slow smirk playing on his lips. "Mariella De Angelis. I've heard a lot about you."

"All good things, I hope," I said smoothly.

He chuckled, a deep, knowing sound. "Depends on who you ask. But I like people who know how to take what they want." He swirled the whiskey in his glass, eyes never leaving mine. "So tell me—what is it that you want?"

I leaned forward slightly, letting the low lighting cast shadows over my face. "I want to build something of my own. A network. A business that operates in the gray areas—not quite legal, but not sloppy enough to be called a crime ring." I tilted my head. "And I need someone with the right connections to make sure doors open when they need to."

Carter watched me carefully, unreadable. "And why should I back you?"

I smiled, but there was something razor-sharp behind it. "Because unlike most of the men who come begging for your favor, I don't just have ambition. I have power. The kind that doesn't need permission."

He let out a low hum of amusement. "Is that so?"

I nodded. "You and I both know that power isn't just about money. It's about leverage. Influence. Fear." I took a sip of my own drink before placing it down. "You back me, and I make sure you always have a friend in my world—a world where most of your competitors are too afraid to play."

There was a long silence.

Then Carter laughed. A slow, knowing chuckle.

"You've got balls, Mariella," he admitted, setting his drink down. "I like that." He studied me for another moment before leaning forward slightly. "Tell me—what's your plan?"

I smirked. Now we were getting somewhere.

I lean back in my seat, keeping my posture relaxed but my mind sharp. Carter watches me with mild amusement, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of his chair. The man is powerful, wealthy beyond comprehension, and well-connected in ways that could change the trajectory of my entire plan. This meeting isn't just business—it's survival.

I exhale, letting the tension in my shoulders ease as I lace my fingers together. "I'm not here to waste your time, Carter. I want to build something bigger than just a name—an organization that operates outside the law, because let's be honest, the law doesn't do shit when it comes to human trafficking. These men, these monsters, they buy their way out of everything, and I intend to put a stop to that."

Carter hums, his lips curving into a knowing smile. "You want to play vigilante?"

I smirk. "I want to play god."

That makes him chuckle, but his amusement is short-lived. He leans forward, intrigued now. "And what do you need from me?"

"Resources. Connections. Funding. You have the reach I don't. I have the skill, the vision, and the people willing to follow. Together, we could make something unstoppable."

He watches me carefully, considering, weighing the risks and rewards. Then, just as he's about to speak, the door opens, and one of his assistants steps in, looking hesitant.

"Mr. Carter," the man says, clearing his throat. "There's someone here to see you. He's... important."

Carter raises a brow but doesn't look surprised. He glances at me, then back at his assistant. "I assume this is the man I was informed about?"

"Yes, sir."

Carter sighs, rubbing his temple. "Alright. Bring him in. Might as well make introductions."

I cross my legs, tilting my head as I watch Carter with interest. "Should I be worried?"

He grins. "Not unless you plan on pissing him off."

I smirk. "No promises."

I kept my expression neutral, but internally, I was already irritated. Someone important? Important enough to interrupt my damn meeting? The audacity. I was in the middle of securing my future, laying the groundwork for something bigger than myself, and now, apparently, some special little someone think they could waltz in and demand Carter's attention.

I crossed my legs and leaned back in my seat, swirling my drink in my hand as I waited. If this "important" person thought they could just barge in and steal the spotlight, they were about to learn exactly who the hell I was.

Carter's assistant stepped forward, looking far too smug for my liking.

"Sir, meet Leon Laurent," he announced.

My entire body went rigid.

What?

I blinked, my fingers tightening around my glass. There was no way I just heard that right.

Leon Laurent.

Out of all the people in the world. Him?

I hadn't seen him since last week, and now, suddenly, he was here? In my meeting? What the hell was he even doing in Milan, let alone in Carter's inner circle?

I barely had time to process before the door opened, and there he was.

Leon stepped in like he belonged, his usual unreadable expression in place, dark eyes scanning the room before they landed on me. For a split second, I forgot how to breathe.

Breathe girl.

The moment stretched, tense and heavy, but I forced myself to blink and pull myself together. I sat up straighter, adjusting my posture as if I couldn't care less. And for good measure, I lifted my drink to my lips, taking a slow sip like his presence wasn't suddenly making my stomach feel like it had been possessed by a swarm of butterflies.

I need a TNT. Immediately. Detonate them all.

Leon's gaze lingered on me for a second too long, his expression unreadable, but then he turned to Carter and extended his hand. "Mr. Carter, it's an honor." His voice was smooth, controlled, like he hadn't just completely derailed my focus.

Carter nodded, shaking his hand firmly. "Leon Laurent. I've been hearing quite a bit about you."

Leon smirked slightly. "All good things, I hope."

I rolled my eyes.

Fucking Copycat.

Carter chuckled before gesturing toward me. "And this is Mariella De Angelis, the brilliant young woman I was just speaking with. She's looking to build something of her own."

I nearly scoffed.

Oh, Carter, if only you knew how introduced we already were.

Leon turned to me, his expression smug as hell, and extended his hand.

"Mariella," he said smoothly. "Nice to meet you."

I stared at his hand like it was an active grenade.

Oh, this bastard.

For a moment, I debated leaving him hanging just to prove a point. But I could feel Carter watching, and I needed to play the part of the composed, professional woman—not some flustered, love-struck idiot. So, with every ounce of self-control I had, I placed my hand in his and gave him a firm shake.

Big mistake.

The moment our hands touched, I felt it. That stupid, infuriating spark. Like static electricity, except instead of shocking him, it ran straight through me.

Leon's grip tightened just slightly—firm enough to make a point, firm enough to send a slow, frustrating heat crawling up my spine. My fingers twitched in his hold, but before I could pull away, he squeezed just a little harder.

I let out a quiet, irritated groan, trying to laugh it off like he wasn't getting under my skin. My glare shot up to meet his eyes, but the bastard just smirked, completely unbothered.

"Something wrong, Mariella?" he murmured, voice low enough that only I could hear.

I bared my teeth in a too-sweet smile. "Not at all," I said smoothly, yanking my hand free with a flick of my wrist.

I swore I saw amusement flicker in his eyes before Carter spoke again, dragging us back into the business at hand. But my blood was already boiling, and Leon-fucking-Laurent was enjoying every second of it.

Leon, of course, looked completely unbothered. Smug asshole.

I pulled my hand back quickly, pretending to check my nails. "Didn't think you had the attention span to sit through meetings like these, Laurent. What, did you take a wrong turn on your way to being a menace?"

Leon smirked, sliding into the chair across from me like he had all the time in the world. "I could say the same about you. Thought you preferred taking your entertainment from ruining men's lives, not doing business with them."

I flashed him a saccharine smile. "Oh, but this is so much more fun. I get to do both at once."

Carter watched us with mild amusement before leaning back in his chair. "Well, I'm glad you two seem to be getting along."

Leon glanced at me, his smirk deepening. "Oh, we go way back."

I clenched my jaw. Way back? He made it sound like we were childhood friends instead of whatever this was.

I turned to Carter, ignoring Leon's pointed stare. "So, what's he doing here?" I asked bluntly. "Because I know he's not here to talk about charity work."

Leon leaned back, his arm resting casually over the back of his chair. "Why, Mariella, you wound me." His voice was all lazy amusement, and I wanted to strangle him. "I'm actually here for something similar to you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Carter nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "Leon has been looking to establish something of his own as well. A network. Connections." He glanced between us. "And from what I gather, both of you are working toward the same thing. A powerful organization. Influence. A way to move through this world on your own terms."

I kept my expression neutral, but inside, my brain was doing backflips.

Leon? Starting something of his own?

What the hell was he playing at?

Leon watched me, waiting for my reaction, and I refused to give him one. Instead, I exhaled slowly and leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. "Well, isn't that adorable?" I said sweetly. "Looks like someone wants to play in the big leagues."

Leon grinned. "And yet, here you are. Playing the same game."

Carter chuckled, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "Maybe instead of competing, you should consider working together."

Both Leon and I snapped our heads toward him at the same time.

"Excuse me?" I asked, voice sharp.

Carter raised a brow. "Why not? You're both after similar goals. Power. Reach. Influence. And frankly, with your connections and Leon's resources, you could build something unstoppable."

I turned to Leon, narrowing my eyes.

He smirked.

Oh, hell no.

Carter wanted me to work with him? With Leon? The one man who made my blood pressure skyrocket every time he opened his mouth?

Absolutely not.

I smiled, but it was all teeth. "I appreciate the suggestion, Carter, but I work alone."

Leon chuckled, low and knowing. "Sure you do, princess."

I clenched my fist under the table.

Oh, this was going to be a nightmare.

I was done with this meeting. Done with the interruptions, done with the games, and definitely done with Leon Laurent and whatever the hell he was playing at.

I sighed, straightened my back, and set my drink down with a soft clink. "Alright, Carter," I said, my tone all business. "Let's cut the nonsense. Are you in or not?"

Carter raised an eyebrow, amused by my impatience.

I leaned forward, locking eyes with him. "I'm offering you a chance to be part of something that will change everything—something bigger than just money or influence. And if you pass on this, I promise you'll regret it." I smirked, voice dripping with confidence. "And we both know I hate being right."

Carter hummed, swirling the last of his whiskey in his glass before glancing at Leon. "By looking at her," he mused, "do you think she really means it?"

Leon chuckled, leaning back lazily in his chair, stretching his arms out across the back like he had all the time in the world. His dark eyes flickered to me, assessing, playful, dangerous. "Oh, she means it," he said smoothly. Then, that damn smirk appeared on his lips. "She just hates begging for it."

I nearly choked on my own breath.

I clenched my jaw and shot him a glare. "I wouldn't beg you for air if I was drowning, Laurent."

His smirk deepened. "We'll see about that."

I wanted to murder him. Right then and there.

Carter let out a deep laugh, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, I like you, Mariella. You've got fire." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You've got yourself a deal."

A slow smile stretched across my lips. Finally.

I exhaled, my body practically vibrating with satisfaction. "Thank you, Carter. You won't regret this."

Carter lifted his glass. "For your sake, I hope not." He took a sip, then turned to Leon. "And what about you, Laurent? You came here for a reason."

I was still riding the high of my win, but at Carter's words, I glanced at Leon, my curiosity piqued.

What was he doing here?

Leon's expression shifted, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. He hesitated, and that was new. Leon Laurent didn't hesitate.

And then he looked at me.

I frowned slightly.

Oh.

He didn't want to say it in front of me.

Carter noticed the shift immediately. "Ah," he said, sitting back with an almost knowing smirk. "So it's that kind of conversation." He gestured lazily toward the door. "Mariella, why don't you give us a moment?"

My brows shot up. Excuse me?

I crossed my arms. "I just closed a deal, and now you're kicking me out?"

Carter chuckled. "Just for a moment, sweetheart."

I turned back to Leon, narrowing my eyes. "Are you serious? I'm not just anyone, Laurent. Whatever it is, I could be useful."

Leon didn't say anything, but the way he held my gaze told me everything.

Not this time.

I huffed, pushing my chair back with just a bit too much force. "Fine," I muttered, standing up and smoothing down my dress. I turned to Carter. "Pleasure doing business with you." Then I flicked my eyes toward Leon. "Try not to embarrass yourself."

Leon grinned. "Don't wait up for me, princess."

Oh, I was so going to.

I left the room, my heels clicking sharply against the floor as I made my way out of the private lounge. But instead of heading straight to my car, I lingered outside, pacing near the entrance.

I wasn't just going to leave. Hell no. If Leon thought he could just keep secrets from me, he had another thing coming.

So I leaned against the wall of the waiting room arms crossed, waiting.

Because the second he walked out of that building, I was getting my answers.

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Leon?

Ariana what are you doing here??

Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ

Maddie♡



*Mariella's Outfit*