Elena sat in her home office, surrounded by a chaotic sea of paperwork. A month had passed since the incident with Valois, yet the fire in her eyes had not dimmed; if anything, it burned brighter, capable of reducing the world to ash.
Her computer screen, usually filled with business inquiries or merger details, now displayed something far more dangerous: the intricate archives of the underworld. Across her notepad, one name was written in bold, haunting strokes: The sterlings.
Who were the Sterlings? Why was a high-powered businesswoman like Elena Vane digging into the secrets of the Mafia? The answers lay buried in a past she was finally ready to confront. Elena's eyes suddenly locked onto a specific file—the breakthrough she had been hunting for. Without hesitation, she dialed a number.
"I'm sending you a location," she said, her voice like ice. "Confirm if they are still there. Also, book me a ticket to Milan, Italy. It's time to call upon our ancestral power." She hung up, a sharp, dangerous smirk playing on her lips. "Enjoy your peace while it lasts, Julian," she whispered to the empty room. "I'm coming to ruin it."
~The next day ~
The next morning, Elena was back in her professional element at the office. The calm was shattered when Chloe entered, followed closely by Serina—the owner of Ori and Olio's biggest rival company. Serina lived for the sole purpose of getting under Elena's skin.
Elena rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "Could this day get any worse?"
Serina offered a smile that was as fake as a plastic doll. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Vane. I heard rumors you're jetting off to Italy. Is this a business trip, or are you just running away? You must know you haven't got a chance at the 'Best Female CEO' nomination this year."
Elena didn't miss a beat, meeting Serina's gaze with effortless coldness. "I can't say it's 'nice' to see you, but I can certainly see how pale you look. Are you worried?"
Serina's hands balled into fists as Elena continued, "Listen, babe. Awards are based on profit margins and leadership, not on how many layers of makeup a CEO can plaster on her face. The judges value substance, not a walking mannequin."
"Mind your language, Ms. Vane!" Serina snapped.
"I don't need to mind my language with someone like you," Elena countered, her voice rising with authority. "Everything I say is a reflection of the truth. I started from zero and built this empire with my own hands; I'm not a nepo-kid living off a silver-spoon inheritance. Don't look my way again. Chloe, show her the gate. Remind the guards that this is a food-tech company—we have no use for a walking makeup machine."
Stunned and fuming, Serina pushed past Chloe. "I know the way out!" she hissed, her heels clicking aggressively against the floor as she stormed out.
Once the door slammed shut, the professional masks fell away. Elena and Chloe weren't just boss and secretary; they were friends or more like sisters in every way that mattered.
"Elena," Chloe started, her voice trembling. "Are you really going back? It's been four years. We've built a great life here. Why can't you just... let it go and forget it?"
"Forget it?" Elena's voice cracked with a mixture of pain and fury. "How can I forget the moment my life was torn apart? I promised her that I will take her revenge. Now that I finally have the power to strike back, you're asking me to quit?"
"I'm just tired, Elena!" Chloe broke down, tears streaming down her face. "I can't lose anyone else. I'm so scared that if you go back into that world, I'll lose you too. Please... not again."
Elena rushed over, pulling the sobbing Chloe into a tight embrace. "Look at me, Chloe. We have to be strong. If I don't go, he stays free. He continues his crimes while we live in a prison of fear. Is that fair? The criminals are living in the sun while the victims are hiding in the shadows."
Chloe gripped Elena's arms. "I know it's not fair. I just can't bear the thought of something happening to you." Elena softened, wiping a tear from Chloe's cheek with a small, reassuring smile. "Nothing will happen to me. I have the strength of every innocent life he ruined behind me. Their cries give me power, and your prayers keep me safe. I won't fail."
Chloe let out a shaky breath, knowing she couldn't stop her friend. "Fine. Go. But you better come back to me in one piece. If you come home with even a single scratch on the skin I've spent years healing, you'll have to deal with me."
Elena laughed, the heavy tension finally breaking. "Deal. And if I do get a scratch, I know I have the best person in the world to fix me up again."
~At the Valois Empire ~
The headquarters of the Valois Empire stood like a monolith of glass and steel against the city skyline, a symbol of untouchable power. Inside the top-floor executive suite, the air was thick with the scent of expensive mahogany and the hum of high-end technology.
The heavy double doors swung open without a warning knock. A man entered with the kind of confidence that only comes from owning the ground you walk on. Jimmy Blackwood, in his late twenties, moved with a predatory grace.
He was draped in a charcoal-dark suit, tailored so perfectly it looked like armor. His features were sharp, his jawline like a blade, and his eyes held the restless energy of someone who thrived in chaos. He didn't need an appointment; in this world, he was the only one who doesn't need someone's permission to meet the owner of the company.
Alex was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the door, watching the world below as if he were deciding which part of it to conquer next.
"Alex," Jimmy started, his voice cutting through the silence of the room. He didn't wait for a greeting. He walked straight to the leather guest chair but didn't sit; instead, he leaned against the desk, tapping a rhythm on the polished wood. "The detectives just checked in. We have a trail."
Alex didn't turn around, but his shoulders stiffened. The mere mention of a 'trail' in their world usually meant one person: Elena Vane.
"She's heading back to Italy," Jimmy continued, his tone turning serious. "But she isn't going where we expected. She's bypassing Udine and Friuli-Venezia Giulia entirely. She's heading straight for Milan. And she isn't staying in a luxury hotel, Alex. Our sources say she's embedding herself within the territory of the 'Ndrangheta."
At the mention of that name, Alex finally turned. His expression was a mask of cold calculation. The 'Ndrangheta wasn't just a gang; they were a shadow government, the most powerful and secretive criminal organization in Italy. For a "businesswoman" like Elena to seek them out was like walking into a lion's den—unless she was the one leading the lions.
"Milan," Alex repeated, the word tasting like a bitter drink. "And the 'Ndrangheta. You're sure?"
"Positive," Jimmy replied, crossing his arms. "You told me she had been spotted at that underground Mafia club before. If she's heading to the heart of Milan to meet with those families, do you think there's something fishy going on?"
Alex walked slowly toward his desk, his eyes dark with a mixture of intrigue and suspicion. "It's not just fishy, Jimmy. The whole thing is rotten to the core. Elena Vane doesn't take 'vacations.' Every step she takes is a move on a chessboard we haven't even seen yet. She may have more secrets hidden in her ."
Jimmy leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Then what's the play? Do we pack our bags? If we leave tonight, we can be in Italy before her plane even touches the tarmac. We could intercept her before she makes contact."
Alex was silent for a long moment, his fingers hovering over a crystal decanter on his desk. He finally shook his head.
"No," Alex said firmly. "She is so damn clever. If we land in Milan, she'll definitely find us the moment we pass through customs. Do you ready things she isn't keeping an eye on us . Elena has eyes everywhere. If we move too fast, we lose the element of surprise, and in a place like Milan, that's a death sentence."
"So we just let her go?" Jimmy asked, clearly frustrated by the lack of action.
"We stay a step behind her," Alex corrected. "A shadow is harder to catch than a target. Tell the detectives to keep a twenty-four-hour watch. I want to know who she breathes on, what she eats, and who she meets in the dark. I will handle the rest of the logistics."
Alex looked back out the window, his reflection ghostly against the glass. "She thinks she's going there to ruin a life. She doesn't realize she's leading us straight to the secrets she's worked so hard to bury."
Jimmy noded, but he didn't leave. He walked over to the large digital map projected on the wall, highlighting the Lombardy region of Italy. "You know, Alex, if she's really going back for revenge like we suspect, Milan is the most dangerous place she could choose. The 'Ndrangheta doesn't like outsiders. If she's going there, she either has a death wish or she has a connection we didn't account for."
"She has the connection," Alex muttered, joining him at the map. " Her ancestors, it's the missing piece of the puzzle and she is not that dumb that she will go straight to 'Ndrangheta without any ancestral connection . She isn't just a CEO who worked her way up. She's a woman reclaiming a throne."
"And yeah a name also came out from the dark . 'Julian' . 'Julian sterling.' according to the information we got elena is searching about this name. The detective also claim that she may also went to the bar due to this specific person. You know the same night there was going to be a discussion about sterlings . " Jimmy told.
Alex's jaw tightened. "Julian." Alex said in his deep voice. " He is just a ghost. But even ghosts leave footprints. If Elena finds him, we find him.
I think there is more secrets hidden in the dark. We just have to wait what's coming next "
The room grew cold as the two men stood there—one a hunter, the other a strategist—plotting their next move in a game that had long since moved past the world of legal business and into the world of shadows.
~ At midnight ~
The moon hung low over the city, casting long, sharp shadows across Elena's bedroom. The silence of the house was a stark contrast to the storm brewing in her mind. A sleek, matte-black suitcase lay open on her bed like a hollowed-out shell waiting to be filled.
Elena moved with practiced efficiency. She didn't pack like a woman going on a fashion retreat to Milan. She packed like a soldier preparing for a siege. Alongside her "Old Money" silk blouses and tailored trousers, she tucked away encrypted hard drives and a secondary satellite phone.
Author's POV :-
Wait... is that a gown? No, look closer. Nestled between the folds of a velvet evening dress was the cold, heavy steel of a customized Beretta. You might wonder, why would a CEO need a 9mm for a business trip? Well, when your business involves the 'Ndrangheta, a lipstick isn't the only thing you keep in your bag.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She picked it up, cradling it between her shoulder and ear as she continued to fold her clothes. "Is the jet fueled? Good. I want the flight path cleared for a direct arrival. No stops in Rome," she commanded. "And the safe house in Milan? Ensure the perimeter is swept. I don't want any 'Valois' pests sniffing around the doorstep before I've even unpacked."
She snapped the suitcase shut. The sound echoed through the room like a gavel. It was settled.
The drive to the airport was a blur of streetlights and neon signs. Elena sat in the back of the SUV, her eyes fixed on the passing city. Chloe sat beside her, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her bag. Neither spoke until the car pulled up to the private hangar where the jet stood waiting, its engines humming a low, powerful song.
As the driver began unloading the luggage, Chloe grabbed Elena's arm, her eyes red from a lack of sleep. "Elena, please... just let me come with you. I can't just sit here in this empty city while you're walking into a war zone. I can help. I know the files, I know the players—"
Elena turned, her expression softening for the first time that night. She placed her hands on Chloe's shoulders. "No, Chloe. You are the only person I trust to keep the empire standing while I'm gone. If both of us leave, the vultures—especially Serina and Alex—will know something is wrong. You have to be my eyes and ears here. Watch the stocks, manage the mergers, and tell me every single move the Valois Empire makes."
"But I'll be useless here just waiting for a phone call!" Chloe sobbed. "You won't be waiting. you'll be protecting our home," Elena whispered. "I'll call you the moment I touch down. I promise."
Chloe took a shaky breath and nodded, finally accepting the situation. As Elena began to walk up the stairs of the plane, Chloe called out, "Wait! If you see them... tell Uncle Lorenzo and Aunt Sofia Moretti I said hello. Tell them I miss their garden in Calabria."
Elena paused at the door, a genuine, small smile touching her lips at the mention of the Moretti family—the powerful Mafia branch that had protected her ancestors for generations. "I'll tell them, Chloe. And I'll tell them you're looking after the throne."
With a final wave, the door hissed shut. Elena buckled her seatbelt as the plane began to taxi. She looked out the window at Chloe's diminishing figure on the tarmac. The time for business suits was ending; the time for ancestral blood was beginning.