Adrian POV
The villa was quiet in the morning. The echoes of yesterday's massacre still haunted the halls. I could still smell gunpowder, still see the blood on the white roses, still hear my father's last words.
"Someone… close…"
The words repeated in my head, an endless loop of warning and betrayal. I paced the study, hands clenched into fists. Luca sat nearby, tense, ready for anything.
"They'll come for us again," he said, eyes narrowing. "We need to be ready."
I shook my head. "I don't want to play their game. I want justice, Luca. Not more blood."
"You think you have a choice?" he asked. "This isn't about what you want. This is Moretti business."
I clenched my teeth. He was right, of course. The Moretti empire did not wait for the grieving. It demanded strength, control. Leadership. Power. And now… it demanded me.
---
Isabella POV
I stayed close, silent, letting Adrian move. His shoulders were tense, jaw tight. The anger and grief were sharp, like blades cutting through him. He didn't notice me staring, watching every twitch of his hand, every flash of pain in his eyes.
He was strong, yes. Dangerous. But even the strongest could be led if the path was subtle enough.
I stepped forward, voice soft. "Adrian… you need to face them. The council will come for you. They want answers, direction."
He stopped pacing, eyes meeting mine. There was a flicker of fear there, barely noticeable, but it made my pulse quicken. He still trusted me completely.
"I don't want this," he whispered. "I didn't ask for this. I want to find who did this to my father, not sit in a chair and play king."
"You can't run from it," I said softly, pressing a hand to his arm. "If you refuse, they will think you're weak."
---
Adrian POV
The council arrived by midday. The room filled with familiar faces—captains, lieutenants, and advisers. All looking at me like I was a prize to be judged, a boy they would either crown or crush.
Uncle Marco entered last, his presence smooth, like silk hiding steel. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Adrian," he said, voice warm, almost fatherly. "It is time."
I stared at him, wary. "Time for what?"
"To take your place," Marco replied. "Your father is gone. The empire must have a leader. And that leader is you."
I laughed bitterly. "I am not ready. I want justice, not power."
Marco's smile didn't falter. "Justice comes with power, Adrian. You want revenge, yes? To find who killed your father?"
I stiffened. "Of course."
"Then you must lead," he said softly, leaning closer. "Power does not wait for the weak."
---
Isabella POV
I watched Adrian shift uncomfortably. His loyalty, his sense of honor… it made him stubborn, predictable. Marco's words dripped like poison, planting seeds of doubt in him.
I could see the conflict in his eyes. Part of him wanted to retreat, to ignore the council, to focus on vengeance alone. Part of him—dangerous, strong, inherited—wanted to rise, to take control.
I took a small step closer, voice quiet. "Listen to him, Adrian. You don't have to like it. But you can't ignore it either."
He looked at me, eyes filled with trust. He had no idea I understood the dangerous game Marco was playing. I let him think I supported him completely.
Adrian POV
Luca leaned close, his voice low. "Don't trust anyone, Adrian. Not Marco. Not the council. Not even the people who swear loyalty. They all want something from you."
"I know," I muttered, jaw tight. "But I can't ignore them either. If I refuse… chaos will spread. Innocents could die."
"And?" Luca asked sharply.
"And I won't be like him," I said, voice firm. "I won't become my father. I won't kill innocents for power. But I will take leadership. On my terms."
Luca studied me, lips pressed together. "On your terms…" he echoed, skeptical but approving.
Isabella POV
I smiled faintly, pleased to see him finally decide. He was strong, yes, but predictable. Dangerous. I would need to watch him closely, guide him where necessary.
He turned toward Marco, expression calm, but his eyes were steel. "I will lead. But I make the rules. Innocents do not die by my hand."
Marco's smile widened, eyes glinting with amusement. "We shall see, Adrian. We shall see."
---
Adrian POV
The council bowed, murmuring their reluctant acceptance. I felt the weight settle on my shoulders. Heavy, suffocating. But it was mine.
Marco handed me a small box. Inside lay my father's ring, still stained with blood from yesterday. I picked it up, feeling the cold metal against my fingers. A symbol of power, of duty, of vengeance.
I slipped it onto my finger. The boy they had known was gone. I was no longer just Adrian Moretti, the son. I was Adrian Moretti, the man they would fear.
Luca clapped a hand on my shoulder. "You're going to be a storm, Adrian. A real storm."
I nodded. "Then let it begin."
---
Isabella POV
I watched him slip the ring onto his finger. That small gesture—so simple, yet powerful—showed the man he was becoming. Dangerous, commanding, unyielding.
I stayed close, letting him feel my support. He had no idea that I wasn't just a witness. I was a player too. And soon, every step he took, every decision he made, would be influenced by the quiet presence at his side.
I smiled faintly, thinking: The king rises. And I am right where I want to be.
The villa was quiet again, but not for long. Shadows lingered, whispers grew. Adrian Moretti had accepted the crown, but the game was just beginning. Every enemy, every betrayal, every hidden knife… they would come for him.
And I would be watching, waiting, guiding—always close.