29
The air in the study was thick with the scent of cedar and old paper, a quiet sanctuary amid the chaos of wedding preparations. I leaned over the desk, reviewing the final security arrangements for the villa, when my phone buzzed with a message that cut through the calm like a blade.
Lorenzo: Spotted Stefania in Palermo. She escaped Emperio. Stay vigilant Informed Matteo.
I read the words twice, my chest tightening as unease coiled low in my stomach. Palermo wasn’t just close–it was too close. The edges of our carefully rebuilt world suddenly felt fragile.
“Everything okay?” Matteo’s voice, steady and warm, broke through my thoughts. He had entered silently, his grey eyes scanning my face for answers.
Wordlessly, I handed him the phone. His expression hardened as he read, the weight of the message settling between us like a storm cloud.
“Stefania,” he muttered, his jaw tightening. “She’s testing the waters. Maybe waiting for the right time to att
“And if she decides to strike?” I asked, my voice firmer than I felt. “What if it will be at our wedding?”
Matteo set the phone on the desk and took my hands, his grip steady. “Then she’ll learn this isn’t the same “us” she tangled with before.”
Despite the anxiety humming beneath my skin, his words steadied me. “I trust you,” I said softly “I just… I don’t want her ruining everything we’ve planned.”
“She won’t,” he promised, the steel in his voice unyielding. “Not this time.”
The next day, Lorenzo visited Matteo
“You don’t have to thank me,” Lorenzo replied. “I did what needed to be done. For her. For you.”
Matteo paused. “I heard about your work with the Emperio board. It couldn’t have been easy, holding things together while Stefania and Ricci stirred up chaos.”
“It wasn’t,” Lorenzo admitted. “But someone had to ensure the Emperio didn’t fall apart. And I figured… if anyone deserved it, it was Aletta. And you, if you ever made it back.”
“You’ve done more than I could have asked,” Matteo said, his voice quiet but firm. “And I won’t forget it.”
There was a beat of silence before Lorenzo’s voice softened. “Take care of Aletta, Matteo. She’s been through
enough.”
“I will,” Matteo said. “You have my word.”
Over the next few days, security became our top priority. Matteo worked closely with his men, while I coordinated with the villa staff to ensure every detail was covered. Every entry point was guarded, every guest list meticulously reviewed. It wasn’t the celebration I had imagined, but it was necessary
“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” I asked Matteo one evening as we walked through the estate, inspecting the preparations. “I don’t want people to feel like they’re stepping into a fortress.”
Matteo gave me a small smile. “It’s not too much if it keeps you safe. Besides, this is our home. If Stefania tries anything, she’ll regret it.”
His confidence eased the tension in my chest. “You always know how to make me feel better.”
“It’s part of my charm,” he teased, wrapping an arm around my waist. “And that’s how you fall for me.”
A week later, the garden was a vision of beauty, an open–air paradise bathed in twinkling lights and vibrant floral arrangements. The sound of violins mingled with laughter, and the air was thick with the sweet scent of jasmine. Above us, the stars stretched across the sky, bearing witness to our celebration. It felt like a dream, a perfect moment untouched by the shadows of the past.
Matteo stood beside me, his tailored suit sharp and perfect, his hand resting lightly on my back. His presence grounded me, a reminder of everything we had fought to achieve. His grey eyes sparkled with warmth, and I felt my heart swell. This was our moment–one that promised a future we had earned together.
As the evening wore on, I scanned the gathering of loved ones and allies. Lorenzo stood by the edge of the garden, a glass of wine in hand, his sharp gaze watchful Security discreet but present, was a silent promise he had made.
Tonight was for joy, but we wouldn’t take unnecessary risks.
Matteo extended a hand to me, his voice softening with affection. “May I have this dance, Signora Santoro?” he asked, teasing and endearing.
“Always,” I replied, my heart soaring as he led me to the center of the dance floor. The music shifted to a waltz, and as he took me in his arms, the world seemed to melt away. Every step was a testament to our journey–this a dance of love and survival.
Then, the spell shattered.
The first sound was subtle, a sharp crack that might have been mistaken for a firework. Then came another, and another–rapid, relentless. Bullets tore through the night with brutal precision. Screams erupted as quests scrambled for cover, tables overturned, and chairs clattered to the ground. Matteo pulled me close, shielding me behind a stone pillar.
“Stay down!” he ordered, his voice fierce. His hand reached instinctively for the weapon hidden beneath his Jacket
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Through the chaos, two rigures emerged at the far end or the garden–Sterania and Ricci Costa, Sterania nad changed, her once–polished elegance now replaced by a feral intensity. Ricci, her lover and partner in crime, stood beside her, both armed, their guns glinting in the dim light
“This ends tonight!” Stefania’s voice rang out, venomous. Her eyes locked onto me. “You think you’ve won, Aletta? You think you’re greater than me?”
Matteo’s body tensed, and he positioned himself between me and the threat. “Stefania,” he called out, steady but firm, “put the guns down. You don’t have to do this.”
Her laugh was cold, wild. “You both destroyed me! Took everything I built and left me with nothing!”
Ricci fired a shot, the bullet ricocheting off the stone pillar inches from where we crouched. Matteo returned fire, the sharp crack of his gun splitting the air. The guards, stationed discreetly throughout the garden, sprung into action, engaging Stefania and Ricci in a violent firefight. The acrid scent of gunpowder thickened the air, the cacophony of gunfire and shouting deafening
I pressed against the pillar, my heart pounding as I fought to hold my fear in check. Matteo’s unwavering focus kept me anchored, his body shielding mine from the chaos.
Stefania and Ricci moved with ruthless precision, using overturned tables and garden features as cover. Their every move was a dangerous dance, their attacks wild but deliberate The guards, however, were closing in. Their superior numbers and training began tipping the scales.
In a single, swift move, Stefania appeared in front of me, her gun aimed directly at me. My heavy wedding dress slowed me to run, and there was no time for that. No time to move
“You’re dead, sister!” Stefania screamed, her voice drenched in fury.
Before I could react, she fired
