Vincenzo Point of View
"She's so perfect."
The voice echoed in my head.
Soft.
Warm.
Annoying.
"Try to be more like her."
Another voice.
Sharper.
Colder.
More familiar.
"I'm sorry."
A younger voice this time.
Mine.
Weak.
Pathetic.
"You killed her?!"
That one—
That one was loud.
Accusing.
Disgusted.
"I disown you! You are not a Moretti!"
That one stayed the longest.
It always did.
"I have no son."
Silence followed.
I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face.
Stupid.
All of it.
Stupid memories.
Stupid voices.
Stupid past.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.
"Glad I killed her," I muttered under my breath.
The words came easily.
Too easily.
No hesitation.
No regret.
My lips curled into a faint, twisted smile.
"Can't wait to kill her son."
Alessandro Moretti.
My nephew.
My mistake.
"Can't fucking wait."
Seraphina is so dumb. Always complaining about being second.
Thinking if Ombra Reale is gone she'll be first.
She's still going to be second.
Cause when I kill Alessandro... I'll be first.
Bye bye to third.
The door slammed open.
Loud.
Annoying.
Unnecessary.
"I'm back!"
Of course.
Andrew.
He walked in like he owned the place—no respect, no caution—then dropped himself onto my desk like it was a chair.
I didn't even look at him immediately.
Just stared ahead, letting the irritation settle.
"You should have warned me Zolani was pretty," he continued casually. "I almost caught feelings."
That made me look at him.
Slowly.
Carefully.
My glare landed on him like a blade.
Sharp.
Heavy.
Unforgiving.
He ignored it.
He always did.
"How—" I started.
But he cut me off with an exaggerated groan.
"Entering Moretti Tech Industries was hell," he said, stretching slightly. "Security everywhere. Cameras. Guards. Systems. Honestly? Overkill."
He smirked.
"But I didn't get caught."
I said nothing.
It was expected.
"So…" I finally said, my voice calm but edged with warning. "What information did you get?"
Andrew leaned back on his palms, looking entirely too relaxed for someone who had just infiltrated enemy territory.
"Zolani?" he said. "Clueless."
My eyes narrowed slightly.
"Elaborate."
"She has zero idea about Alessandro's… darker side," he continued. "She thinks he's just some overprotective CEO brother."
A pause.
Then a grin.
"Cute, honestly."
I ignored that part.
"And?"
"And," he went on, "Alessandro and Dante are heading out tonight."
That caught my attention.
"Where?"
He shrugged.
"Didn't get that far. Something about contacting an old ally. I'm guessing it's about Felix."
My jaw tightened.
Felix.
That idiot.
"Dumbass," I muttered, clenching my fist slightly. "I told him not to go."
Andrew tilted his head.
"Huh?"
"He's going to disrupt my plans," I continued, my tone dropping.
Andrew blinked once.
Then—
"What was the plan again?"
I turned my head slowly.
Very slowly.
And looked at him.
The kind of look that made most men step back.
Fear.
Instinct.
Survival.
Andrew?
He grinned.
"Seriously?" I asked quietly.
"How many times do I have to tell you?"
He tapped his chin like he was thinking.
"Hmm…"
Then smiled wider.
"Seven hundred and nineteen times."
My glare hardened.
"You're not funny."
"I am," he said easily. "You're just old."
Silence.
"Come on, dad," he added, dragging the word out with mock affection. "Don't get all grumpy. You'll get wrinkles."
"Don't call me that," I corrected immediately.
Flat.
Cold.
Final.
He didn't listen.
Of course he didn't.
Yes.
Andrew was my son.
Unfortunately.
Two decades ago, a woman—my girlfriend at the time—gave birth to him.
Then disappeared.
No explanation.
No warning.
Just… gone.
Leaving him behind.
And me with a responsibility I never asked for.
I raised him.
Fed him.
Taught him.
Trained him.
And this—
This is what I got.
A reckless, annoying, insufferable distraction.
"How about papa?" Andrew continued, clearly enjoying himself. "Or better yet—"
He leaned forward slightly, smirking.
"Daddy."
I ignored him.
Because responding would only make it worse.
And I didn't have the patience today.
"Shouldn't you be spying on Alessandro and Dante?" I asked instead, cutting him off.
Andrew paused.
Then snapped his fingers.
"Ohhhh, yeah."
He stood up lazily, stretching his arms.
"Almost forgot."
Of course he did.
Idiot.
He turned toward the door, already halfway out.
"Bye, daddy!"
The door slammed shut behind him.
Silence returned.
Finally.
I leaned back in my chair again, staring at the ceiling.
Zolani.
So she knew nothing.
Good.
That made things easier.
Alessandro.
Still playing protector.
Still making mistakes.
And now—
He was moving.
Contacting allies.
Reacting.
Good.
Let him.
Let him think he's in control.
Because soon—
Very soon—
Everything he thinks he knows will fall apart.
And when it does—
I'll be there.