Location: Florence, Italy – Villa Westcott – One Week Later
Sunlight spilled through the stone arches of the Tuscan villa, warming the terra cotta tiles. A breeze carried the scent of lavender and espresso. For once, everything felt… quiet.
Too quiet.
Hartley Sinclair stood on the balcony in a linen robe, sipping cappuccino, watching the olive trees dance in the distance.
Declan Westcott joined her, shirtless, hair damp from the shower, his expression softer than she'd seen in weeks.
"You look peaceful," he said, setting down her phone. "Suspiciously peaceful."
"Don't ruin it."
"I'm just saying. In our world, calm is code for 'impending chaos.'"
Hartley sipped. "If Camilla wants to send a bomb to Italy, she's welcome to try. I could use a little fireworks with my morning carbs."
Declan smirked. "You're terrifying."
"You like it."
"I do."
They kissed. Warm, slow, unhurried. The kind that said we made it.
If only it were true.
—----
Back in New York – Unknown Location
Camilla LaRue sat across from a man in a black tailored suit. Older. Wrinkled hands. A gold pinky ring crusted in rubies.
Edmond LaRue. Her father.
"You embarrassed me," he said calmly.
She didn't respond.
"I spent decades laundering our name into legitimacy. Now you splash it across scandal sheets and TikTok?"
Camilla's voice was cold. "They started it."
"No," he corrected. "You started playing like a spoiled heiress instead of the devil's daughter."
She flinched.
"I cleaned up after you when you tanked LaRue Tech," he continued. "I bought your way back into society. But I will not bury another LaRue scandal."
"I can still win," she said.
"You already lost," he replied. "To a secretary with a sob story and a smarter brain."
Camilla's jaw tightened.
"I need money," she said flatly.
"No," Edmond said. "You need a coffin. But you'll settle for a warning."
He stood. "Don't call me again."
She waited until he left.
Then she smiled.
A slow, cruel smile.
"Then I guess I'll dig the grave myself."
************
Florence – Declan's Study, Later That Day
Hartley scrolled through the encrypted folder Declan had handed her.
"I should've told you earlier," he said quietly.
She looked up. "You let her into your security system. You gave her admin-level clearance when you were still together."
"I thought I loved her."
"Declan—she tried to kill us."
"I know."
"And now you're telling me she still has remote access to parts of Westcott Holdings?"
"Not anymore. I've revoked everything. I swear."
She stared at him. "And you didn't tell me this before?"
He sat down, heavy.
"I was ashamed. I built a kingdom. And I let a viper sleep in my throne."
Hartley's hands curled into fists. "So what else haven't you told me?"
Silence.
Long. Loud. Damning.
Then he said it.
"Camilla isn't just your enemy. She's Leo's legal guardian."
Hartley's heart stopped.
"What?"
"When Leo's mother passed," Declan said carefully, "your father signed custody rights to the LaRue Foundation in exchange for a cancer research grant."
Hartley stood, shaking. "You knew this?"
"I found out after the wedding."
"You let me marry you, knowing she could take my brother?"
"I thought I could fix it before you ever found out."
"But you didn't."
He looked up, eyes tired. "No. I didn't."
She slapped the folder shut.
"You lied to me."
"I didn't lie—"
"You withheld the one thing that could break me."
Hartley backed away. "I trusted you."
"I trusted myself," Declan said. "And that was the mistake."
*********
LaRue Holdings – Private Boardroom, Same Time
Camilla sipped an espresso.
Across from her sat a man in a sharp pinstripe suit with Westcott Security stamped on his ID badge.
"Are you ready to switch sides?" she asked.
He nodded.
She smiled.
"I want everything," she said. "Floor plans. Schedules. Camera blind spots. And access to the Sinclair file."
The man slid her a USB drive.
She slid him a check.
*********
Florence – Rooftop Pool, That Night
Hartley floated in the pool, alone, stars above her.
Her mind raced with betrayal.
Declan had given her a new life… but held the keys to the one thing she loved most: Leo.
She heard footsteps.
He appeared beside the water. Shirt open. Eyes darker than usual.
"I know you hate me," he said.
"I don't hate you."
He kneeled by the edge.
"Then what?"
"I'm terrified."
"Of me?"
"Of what loving you will cost me."
Declan's voice cracked. "I'm terrified too."
She looked
up. "Then what the hell do we do?"
He reached for her.
And she let him.
Because sometimes love survives the worst kinds of betrayal.
And sometimes, it's just the pause before the next war