The weight of the future pressed on Alessandro and Chiara like a suffocating fog as they made their way to Paolo's study.
The room, cloaked in the golden shadows of the firelight, felt heavier than usual, steeped in the gravitas of countless decisions made in there over decades.
Paolo stood, gazing outside the window, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. His rigid posture betrayed the turmoil brewing beneath his composed facade.
Alessandro's gaze swept over the familiar room—the heavy wooden desk, the leather-bound books lining the shelves, the faint smell of cigars lingering in the air. This space had shaped him, taught him discipline, loyalty, and control. But tonight, it felt different. The air crackled with tension, and for the first time in years, Alessandro felt the sharp edge of uncertainty.
Seated by the hearth, Sofia gave Chiara a small, reassuring smile, though her worry was evident in the tightness of her expression. Beside her, Viktor's ice-blue eyes betrayed nothing, his usual calm as intimidating as it was reassuring. Elena hovered near the door, her fingers twisting together anxiously.
Paolo finally turned, his face set in grim lines. "The man we captured last night—he's dead."
Chiara stiffened, her breath hitching. "Dead? How? He was under guard!"
"That's the problem," Paolo said, his tone as sharp as the edge of a blade. "He was killed inside our walls, where he should have been safest. Someone got to him, which means we have a traitor in our midst."
Alessandro's jaw clenched, his dark eyes narrowing. He felt a surge of anger—not just at the betrayal but at himself for not foreseeing it. "An inside job," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "Whoever did this knows our routines, our security. They're close."
Paolo nodded grimly. "Exactly. And that means the threat is more dangerous than we thought."
Chiara's stomach churned as her father's words sank in. The thought of betrayal within their inner circle was nauseating. "Do we have any leads?" she asked, though her voice wavered.
"No," Paolo admitted, his frustration evident. His fists tightened at his sides. "But I will find out. And when I do…" His voice trailed off, but the dark promise in his eyes spoke volumes.
Viktor leaned forward, his measured tone breaking the silence. "This isn't just about betrayal," he said, his cold voice filling the room. "It's about power. Whoever is behind this wants control of your empire, Paolo. They're systematically dismantling your leadership—starting with Stefano and now targeting Chiara. It's deliberate, calculated."
Paolo dragged a hand through his hair, his movements sharp with tension. His gaze landed on Alessandro, lingering with a weight that made Chiara's breath catch. "Which is why I've made my decision," Paolo said, his voice firm and unyielding. "Alessandro, effective immediately, you will assume the role of boss."
Chiara's head whipped toward Alessandro. Her heart pounded as she saw a flicker of surprise in his usually unreadable expression. For a moment, his mask slipped, revealing the conflict beneath.
"Sir," Alessandro began, his voice calm but edged with caution, "are you certain? Stefano's recovery is still possible. This is his position."
Paolo shook his head. "Stefano's health is uncertain, and his recovery will take time—time we don't have. The family needs stability now, and you're the only one who can provide it."
Alessandro's stomach tightened. He had been Stefano's right-hand man for years, the shadow behind the boss. He had earned respect—and fear—through his loyalty and his ruthlessness. But to step into the light as the head of the family? It was a mantle he had never actively sought but had always been prepared for.
Sofia's voice broke through his thoughts. "Papa is right. Alessandro, you've been with this family since you were a boy. You've built a reputation that commands respect. People trust you. They fear you. You're the natural choice."
Viktor nodded. "Your enemies won't hesitate to exploit any perceived weakness. Alessandro stepping up sends a clear message: the LaGuardias are unshakable."
Paolo stepped closer, his eyes locking onto Alessandro's. "I've watched you grow into the man Stefano relied on most. Now I'm relying on you. The family needs you, Alessandro."
The room seemed to shrink as Alessandro absorbed Paolo's words. His chest tightened under the weight of expectation. The family had given him everything, but it had also taken everything—his childhood, his freedom, his ability to dream of a life beyond this. And now, it demanded more.
"If this is what the family needs, I'll do it," Alessandro said finally, his voice steady but heavy with resolve. "But we need to act quickly. The traitor will strike again. We can't afford any more mistakes."
Chiara watched him, her emotions in turmoil. Relief that someone as capable as Alessandro would lead. Fear for what it would mean for him. And, above all, a gnawing dread of what this meant for her own life.
Viktor stood, his commanding presence filling the room. "I'll mobilize my network," he said. "If there's information to be found, I'll find it. But Sofia and I can't stay long. Our own operations need attention."
Paolo nodded. "Your help is invaluable, Viktor. Thank you."
When the others began to leave, Chiara stayed behind. She couldn't walk away—not yet. She waited until they were alone, her gaze fixed on Alessandro.
"You don't have to do this," she said softly, her voice trembling.
He turned to her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn't quite name—determination, resignation, and a flicker of something softer. "Yes, I do," he said simply. "For the family. For you."
Chiara's heart clenched, a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to protest, to tell him he had already given enough. But she knew Alessandro too well. His loyalty to the family—and to her—was unshakable.
The weight of his words settled over her, and she realized there was no turning back. The LaGuardias had a new leader, and the storm was only just beginning.