Gianna hadn't expected to see Ethan waiting for her after school, leaning casually against his car as if they hadn't just broken up. Her first instinct was to turn back and avoid the conversation altogether, but he'd already spotted her. She sighed, bracing herself as she approached.
"Hey, Gia," Ethan greeted, his usual smile a little too eager. "Can we talk?"
She folded her arms, her expression firm. "We already talked, Ethan. There's nothing left to say."
He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "Come on, Gianna. This… this is just a rough patch, right? I messed up, sure, but we can get through this. We've been through so much already."
She felt a twinge of old emotions resurface, but her resolve held. "Ethan, you lied to me. For months. I trusted you, and… you made a fool of me."
Ethan's gaze softened, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. "I was stupid, okay? But I don't want to lose you over one mistake. You mean everything to me. We can fix this."
Gianna took a deep breath, searching his face for some sign that things could go back to the way they were. But instead, all she saw was someone who only wanted things on his terms. She shook her head, her voice steady. "I need to do what's best for me, Ethan. And right now, that means moving on."
He opened his mouth as if to argue but stopped, his shoulders sagging as he realized she wasn't budging. "Alright," he finally muttered, bitterness creeping into his tone. "If that's what you want."
She watched him turn and walk away, feeling a strange mixture of relief and sadness. It wasn't easy letting go, but she knew deep down it was the right choice.
Meanwhile, in Salvatore's world, the game was far from over.
Inside his private study, Salvatore De Luca pored over a map spread across his desk, studying the territories that marked his vast empire and Luciano's latest incursions. Rome was critical—cutting off his allies there had been a calculated move by Luciano, one Salvatore couldn't ignore.
Marco, his loyal capo, stood by, waiting for his orders. "It's a bold move, boss. Luciano's practically begging for a war."
Salvatore's jaw tightened, his eyes sharp. "Bold, yes. But careless. He's aiming for my empire without understanding the cost."
Marco nodded. "What's the plan, then?"
Salvatore traced his finger along the routes between Rome and New York, his expression calculating. "Luciano thinks isolating our allies weakens us, but he's wrong. Send a message to my men in Rome. Tell them to stay low but be ready to strike when I give the word."
Marco's lips curved into a sly smile. "And here?"
"Here, we remind Luciano that I am not a king to be trifled with." Salvatore's voice was calm, almost deadly. "Get in touch with our suppliers along the coast. Tighten the flow of resources into Luciano's territories. I want him to feel the walls closing in—slowly."
The corners of Marco's mouth twitched in approval. "Understood, boss."
Salvatore glanced out the window, his gaze drifting to the city lights sprawling beneath him. Each flickering light represented his empire, his power. Luciano might have scored a small victory, but Salvatore was not one to leave debts unpaid.
"Luciano wanted a war," Salvatore murmured, his voice steely. "Let's show him exactly what that looks like."
Marco inclined his head respectfully. "It'll be done."
With a final nod, Salvatore returned his focus to the map, already planning the moves he'd need to make. Luciano might have declared his intent, but in this game of kings, only one could hold the throne. And Salvatore intended to ensure it was him