The drive back to the safe house was quiet, filled with the soft glow of the rising sun and the weight of what they'd survived. Alessandro's leg was bandaged tightly now—Isabella had tended to it while they'd waited for Rico—and he leaned his head against the window, watching the valley pass by. Clara sat beside him, her hand in his, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
When they arrived, Rico had already prepared breakfast—fresh bread, eggs, and coffee that filled the cabin with a warm, comforting scent. They ate in silence at first, each lost in their own thoughts, until Enzo spoke up.
"The other bosses will want a meeting soon," he said, stirring his coffee. "To formalize things—put Clara in charge, set new rules."
Clara nodded. "I know. But I don't want to be like Salvatore. I want us to work together—no more power grabs, no more bloodshed."
Isabella leaned back in her chair. "Easier said than done," she noted. "Some of those bosses have been playing this game for decades. They won't give up control that easily."
Alessandro set down his fork. "Then we'll show them it's possible," he said. "We'll build a network based on trust, not fear. Enzo, you know their weaknesses—you can help us navigate the politics. Isabella, you'll lead security—make sure no one tries anything stupid. And Clara… you'll be the heart of it all."
Clara smiled, a genuine, bright smile that lit up the room. "Together," she said. "We do this together."