The morning started like any other lovely morning, with the humming sound of the yacht's engines barely noticeable underneath the calm sea waves. Sophia sat at the breakfast table, going through emails on her tablet, she wasn't aware that her entire world was about to turn upside down.
Her peace was scattered when Dante rushed into the room, his expression dark and very angry. In his hand, he held a thick folder.
"Sophia," he shouted, slamming the folder onto the table. "What the hell is this?"
She looked up, surprised. "What's going on?"
Dante opened the folder, showing pages of financial records. Her name was written across them, connected to transactions she had never seen before. "You're stealing from me?"
The accusation made her breathing stop and her heart seized at the same making her gasp for air to regain her consciousness. She blinked, unable to fully understand his words. "What? No! I would never"
"Then explain this," he interrupted, his voice cold. "Hundreds of thousands of euros missing, all disbursed through accounts connected to you. These aren't coincidences, Sophia."
Her mouth went dry as she went through the documents. The evidence was alarming and too perfect to be real, but impossible to immediately refuse. "I don't understand all this you are showing me, I didn't do it. You have to believe me." she said, her voice shaking.
Dante's eyes narrowed. "You expect me to take your word when this is looking at me in the face? How could you betray me like this?"
"I didn't!" she insisted, rising to her feet. "Someone's setting me up. Don't you see? This is too accurate to be real!"
But Dante wasn't listening. His anger was noticeable, and his mistrust went deeper than any words.
"Until I figure out the truth," he said, his tone still cold, "you're on your own."
Sophia watched in absolute silence as Dante left the room. She sat back into her chair awkwardly without considering how her weight dropped on the chair, her mind racing. Who could have done this? Why now?
Her sense of being alone increased as the hours passed. The staff, who had always been polite looked distant from her and now avoided her entirely. Whispers followed behind her as she walked through the halls, their judgment of her was noticeable.
By the afternoon, Sophia had gone back to her room, her safe place now feeling like a prison. She sat on the edge of her bed, holding her phone closely, desperately looking for answers.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a notification. A new message had arrived, unsigned and secret:
"This is only the beginning. They want to destroy Dante, and you're the first to get attacked. Follow the trail. Trust no one."
Her heart raced as she read the words. The mysterious friend had contacted her before, but this time, what's at stake was higher. If she didn't act, she would lose everything—her reputation, her freedom, and possibly her life.
Determined to prove her innocence, Sophia began looking into the evidence Dante had shown her. She noticed some clear inconsistencies, timestamps on transactions that didn't go well with the activities, and accounts linked to her name that she had never opened.
Her friend's message repeated in her mind: Follow the trail.
Using Dante's computer, she accessed the company's financial database, carefully avoiding the security measures she had learned about during her time on the yacht. Hours passed as she went through records, and her frustration was increasing as she was accessing the documents to clear her name.
Finally, she found a transaction marked with her name but originating from an offshore account connected to one of Dante's rivals. She didn't recognize the account holder, but the name "Victor Moreno" appeared in the background data.
Her breath seized immediately. Victor Moreno was a known associate of Dante's enemies, a shadowy figure with a reputation for designing elaborate schemes.
But how had he framed her so perfectly?
Armed with this information, Sophia went out to look for Dante. She found him in his study, going over more documents.
"I need to talk to you," she said, her voice firm.
He didn't look up. "I don't have time for your excuses."
"This isn't an excuse," she replied with a firm voice. "I found something."
That got his attention. He set down his pen and relaxed his back in his chair, his eyes checking all her attributes from talking to body movement. "Go on."
She hesitated, knowing how precarious her position was. "The transactions—they're fake. Someone used an offshore account linked to Victor Moreno to make it look like I embezzled the money."
Dante's expression remained unreadable. "And how do you know this?"
"I found it in your system," she answered. "I had to look because you wouldn't listen to me."
His eyes darkened. "You hacked into my system?"
Sophia smiled. "What choice did I have? You accused me without giving me a chance to defend myself. I'm trying to prove my innocence, Dante."
For a moment, they both looked at each other without saying anything. Then he said, "If you're lying—"
"I'm not," she interrupted. "Check it yourself. The evidence is there."
Dante studied her for a long moment, his gaze was scary. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. But if this leads nowhere, you're done."
As Dante checked the data critically, Sophia returned to her room, her heart kept racing. She knew she was walking a fine line. If Dante didn't believe her, she had no one left.
Late that night, another message arrived:
"You're close, but it's bigger than you think. They're not just targeting you—they're after scattering everything Dante has built. Be careful. They're watching."
Sophia's blood went cold. She looked carefully around the room, suddenly she became very aware of her surroundings. Was someone spying on her?
The yacht, once a sign of luxury, now felt different, the room she was in felt smaller and choking for her. She couldn't trust anyone—not the staff, not Dante, not even Stefano, his closest confidant.
The next morning, Dante called her to his office. He looked extremely tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but his anger had reduced into something more complicated.
"You were right," he admitted, though the words seemed to be hard for him to utter. "The transactions were fabricated. Victor Moreno's name is all over it."
Relief went through Sophia's body, but it was not for a long period.
"This doesn't get you off completely," Dante added. "Moreno's involvement raises more questions than it answers. Why target you? What's the connection?"
Sophia hesitated. She couldn't tell him about the mysterious messages—not yet. "I don't know," she said honestly.
Dante relaxed back in his chair, his eyes were focused mainly on her. "Until I do, you're going to be properly observed by me. If Moreno thinks you're an easy target, he's wrong."
She left the room without saying anything.
That night, she was unable to sleep, so she sat by the window.
Suddenly her phone rang again, and she read the latest message:
"You're part of the game now. Moreno wants Dante's empire, and he'll destroy anyone in his way. Be ready—this is only the beginning."
Sophia held her fists firmly on her lap, her fear turning into determination. Whoever this ally was, they knew more than they were telling her. And if she wanted to clear her name and protect herself, she had to uncover everything about the Moreno plan.
As she kept her phone away, a shadow moved outside her door. She froze, her heart pounding.
Was someone listening?