The villa became a fortress.

Every marble hall, every gilded chamber, every shadowed corner bristled with weapons and soldiers. The air thrummed with anticipation, the calm before a storm that everyone knew was coming.

Elena walked through the halls in silence, her heels sharp against the stone, her presence turning every head. Servants bowed their heads. Guards straightened their spines. She wasn’t just the queen by Enzo’s side anymore—she was a ruler in her own right.

But queens did more than wear crowns. They made kingdoms bleed or thrive.

That evening, the war council convened again in the underground chamber.

Enzo sat at the head, his storm-gray eyes scanning the...