The Romano offices were a battlefield disguised as a boardroom.
Alessia Romano leaned over a sprawling map of the company's assets, her eyes sharp, calculating, noting every irregularity Marco Vitale had orchestrated over the past weeks.
Small shipments delayed, investments redirected, key partners nudged toward Vitale's influence — subtle, clever, but not clever enough for Alessia.
She called in her top executives. "Marco thinks he can test me. He thinks I won't notice his manipulations. But every move has a trace, and I'm going to find them."
Hours passed as Alessia dissected contracts, cross-referenced transactions, and identified patterns in Marco's interference. Each step Marco had taken to weaken her family's empire had left tiny cracks — just enough for her to exploit.
"Start tightening our alliances," she instructed, voice calm but commanding. "Reevaluate every partner, every deal. Any connection to Vitale? We cut it or counter it. No one undermines the Romano name without consequences."
Her assistant hesitated. "Signorina… aren't you worried he'll retaliate?"
Alessia's lips curved into a faint, confident smile. "He already has. That's why I'm ahead of him now."
Meanwhile, her phone buzzed quietly on her desk. A private number again. She glanced down.
"Clever, my queen. But even the sharpest blade can slip if not careful."
A small shiver ran down her spine. Alessia smiled, feeling the strange mix of irritation and intrigue she had come to expect from her mysterious admirer. She carefully tucked the phone away. The game with Marco was real. The other game… that one was far more dangerous, and far more thrilling.
By evening, Alessia had implemented new safeguards, redirected sensitive investments, and sent subtle signals to Marco's associates — a chess game played across Florence without either of them fully realizing the other's moves.
As she left the office, the city lights reflecting off her car windows, Alessia allowed herself a small, private thought: I can handle Marco Vitale. I've always handled bigger threats.
But deep inside, a flicker of curiosity persisted — the kind that no contract, no strategy, no empire could satisfy.