Bloodline of Vengeance
The mansion stood in silence.
Cold.
Imposing.
Untouchable.
Arabella didn't slow as she walked through the grand doors, her heels striking the marble floor like gunshots in the quiet hall.
Her jaw was tight.
Her eyes burned.
"Where is he?" she snapped at a servant.
"In the study, miss."
She didn't wait.
The doors to the study burst open.
Inside—
A man sat behind a large desk, calm and composed, as if the world bent to his will.
Her father.
He didn't look up immediately.
"Arabella," he said smoothly. "You look… upset."
"Don't start," she snapped, stepping forward. "She's using his card. Walking around like she owns everything."
That got his attention.
Slowly…
He lifted his gaze.
Sharp.
Calculating.
"Alessandro allowed that?" he asked.
"Yes."
Silence.
Then—
A slow smile spread across his face.
"Interesting."
Arabella clenched her fists. "There's nothing interesting about it. She's a nobody."
Her father leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
"No," he said calmly. "She's not."
Arabella frowned.
"She's a weakness."
The words hung in the air.
Heavy.
Deadly.
Arabella's anger paused… just for a second.
Then her lips curled.
"A weakness…" she repeated slowly.
Her father nodded.
"Alessandro survived wars. Betrayals. Bloodshed."
A pause.
"But a woman?"
A faint, dangerous chuckle escaped him.
"That's where men fall."
Something dark sparked in Arabella's eyes.
"I want her," she said.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Her father studied her carefully.
"For what?"
Arabella stepped closer, her voice dropping into something colder.
"I want her to feel what I felt."
A beat.
"I want her broken."
Silence.
Then—
Her father smiled.
"Good."
He stood slowly, adjusting his cuffs.
"Because I want Alessandro."
Their eyes met.
Same darkness.
Same intent.
"Then we don't interfere with each other," Arabella said.
"No," her father agreed.
A pause.
"We work together."
The Plan
The room darkened as strategies unfolded.
Names.
Locations.
Weak points.
"Alessandro is strongest when he controls the battlefield," her father said.
"So we take that away."
Arabella tilted her head. "And Isabella?"
A cruel smile formed.
"We separate them."
Her pulse quickened.
"How?"
Her father walked toward the window, looking out over the city.
"We make her walk into us."
A pause.
"Willingly."
Arabella frowned slightly. "She won't."
He chuckled softly.
"Everyone has something they care about."
A beat.
"We just have to find hers."
Silence.
Then—
Arabella smiled.
Slow.
Dangerous.
"Oh… I'll find it."
Elsewhere…
Unseen.
Unnoticed.
A pair of eyes watched the mansion from afar.
A phone lifted.
A message typed.
"They're moving."
Sent.
Back in the Penthouse
Alessandro stood by the window, his expression unreadable as his phone buzzed.
He read the message once.
Then again.
His grip tightened slightly.
"They're planning something," Lucian said from behind him.
Alessandro's eyes darkened.
"Let them."
A pause.
Because this time—
He wasn't reacting.
He was waiting.
And when they made their move…
He would end them all.