The heavy oak doors closed behind Dante, sealing off the fragile peace he’d left in that bedroom. The air outside was colder, sharper — a biting reminder that the world he lived in didn’t pause for love or guilt.

The courtyard of the villa buzzed with tension. Men in dark suits moved with urgency, their eyes sharp and voices low. The sound of distant waves crashed against the cliffs, but even the sea seemed restless today.

Dante’s every step carried the weight of two worlds — the one he ruled with blood and power, and the one he’d nearly lost himself in last night.

“Boss,” Luca approached him immediately, tablet...