The car sped through the Italian hills, cutting through the night like a ghost.
Alethea sat in silence beside Caden. His presence was ice-cold, calculated—but safe. For now.
"You're not just some stranger," she finally said, eyes on him. "You knew Bram would come for me."
Caden didn't glance her way. "Because I've been watching you. For weeks."
Her stomach clenched. "Why?"
He turned slowly, his gaze slicing into her soul.
"Because your life… is a lie."
The words shattered something inside her.
"You think the billionaires just want your body? No. It's more than desire. It's blood. Power. Legacy."
Caden slid a file across her lap.
Photos. A birth certificate.
A woman who looked like her—identical, but older. Her mother.
"She was one of them. Born into the darkest part of this empire."
Alethea's lips trembled. "But she died."
Caden nodded. "Because she ran."
Alethea's world spun. She had always wondered why her life had been a string of betrayals. Why she was always hunted, hated, envied.
She wasn't just some poor girl the billionaires toyed with.
She was an heir.
To a dynasty soaked in secrets and sin.
---
Meanwhile, at a hidden villa…
Vincent threw a glass at the wall. "She disappeared?!"
Leonardo lit a cigar, unbothered. "Bram failed. Again."
Dimitri sipped wine, eyes glowing. "Then we hunt the girl down. And kill whoever stands in our way."
They didn't just want her anymore.
They wanted to own her.
---
Back in the safe house, Alethea whispered, "So what now?"
Caden stepped closer, his voice deadly calm.
"Now, you take back everything they stole."
Her fear flickered—then turned into fire.
For the first time, Alethea Vione wasn't running.
She was preparing to fight.
Rain lashed against the window panes like the fury inside Alethea's chest. The old safe house nestled in the Tuscan countryside was silent, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock echoing down the dimly lit hall.
Alethea stood before a dusty mirror, her fingers brushing the edge of the file Caden had given her. Her reflection stared back—not the same girl who once cried in silence, not the girl who begged for love from men who only saw her as a possession.
Now, she saw the outline of a queen rising.
But queens needed armies.
And queens needed to know their enemies.
Behind her, Caden entered with a grim expression. "Leonardo's men were seen near Florence. They're looking for you."
"I'm done running," Alethea said, her voice sharp like steel. "They wanted a pawn. They'll get a storm."
Caden smirked but didn't argue. "Then we prepare."
He handed her a folded map and a list of encrypted bank accounts under her name—accounts tied to her late mother's hidden inheritance. Billions. Enough to fund a small country.
But before they could strategize, the door burst open.
Boooommmmmm.
Guns raised. A rush of tension filled the room as three figures stepped in.
Tasha. Delilah. Kiera.
Alethea's heart dropped. Her "friends." Her so-called sisters.
Kiera spoke first, her eyes glinting with false sweetness. "There you are, Vione. Hiding like a scared little deer."
Delilah tossed her wet coat aside. "We've been looking for you. Bram is very upset."
Alethea took a step back. "You were supposed to be with me. You were my—"
"Friends?" Tasha laughed coldly. "Oh, sweetheart. We were never your friends. We were your shadows. Paid to keep you in place."
Caden stepped between them. "Get out. Or I'll paint this floor with your blood."
Tasha raised a hand. "Relax, assassin. We're not here to kill her. Yet."
Delilah stepped forward. "We just want her to come home."
Alethea's fists clenched. "Home? You mean back to the cage? Back to Bram? So he can parade me around like a prize while deciding who gets to ruin me next?"
"You say that like you didn't enjoy the attention," Kiera sneered.
Caden moved like lightning, grabbing Kiera by the throat and slamming her against the wall.
"One more word," he hissed, "and you'll be the first corpse she forgets."
Alethea's voice rang out, powerful and clear, stopping them all. "Let her go, Caden. Let them all go."
Caden's eyes flicked to hers. "They betrayed you."
"I know." She stepped forward, face-to-face with the women who once called her sister. "But I'm not afraid of traitors anymore."
Delilah narrowed her eyes. "You think you're powerful now? Just because some man gave you a gun and a throne you don't deserve?"
"No," Alethea whispered. "I'm powerful because I bled for this. Because I broke, and I didn't stay broken."
She stepped closer, toe to toe with Tasha. "Tell Bram this: If he wants me, he better come with more than silver tongues and poisoned kisses. I've built a kingdom from my pain—and now I'm ready to burn his to the ground."
Delilah scoffed. "You'll regret this."
Tasha smirked. "War it is, then."
They turned and left without another word, leaving behind the faint scent of betrayal and Chanel No. 5.
Caden walked over to Alethea, watching her closely. "That was reckless."
She stared out the rain-streaked window. "No, that was necessary."
Silence fell between them.
Then Alethea turned. "Caden, I want you to help me do what they fear most."
His brow arched. "What's that?"
She stepped into the light, her eyes burning like wildfire.
"I want you to help me take over."
Three days had passed since the confrontation.
The villa had turned from a safe house into a strategy hub. Maps, blueprints, and encrypted devices were scattered across the grand dining table like pieces of a silent war.
Alethea stood at the center, arms crossed, dressed in all-black satin and boots that clicked like warnings against the marble floor.
Her mind was sharper than ever. No more hesitation. No more relying on men to save her.
Caden entered, holding a glass of whiskey. "The hacker from Zurich is in. We've gained access to Bram's private servers."
She nodded. "Good. Begin extraction. I want names. Every deal, every betrayal, every man he's bought."
"You're building something dangerous," Caden murmured.
Alethea smirked. "I'm building something unstoppable."
Just as Caden was about to reply, a low chime echoed from her encrypted laptop.
Incoming call: Dimitri Moreau.
A billionaire tech mogul with icy blue eyes and a deadly reputation. A man Alethea once seduced for information—but who ended up offering her something else: loyalty.
She answered.
"Dimitri."
His voice was velvet laced with danger. "You've made quite the storm, Vione."
"I'm just getting started."
"I'm intrigued. And impressed." His lips curled into a smirk on the screen. "Bram has placed a price on your head. Fifty million euros."
"Cheap," she replied coldly.
"I could double it and protect you."
"Or you could invest in my war. And join a revolution."
He chuckled darkly. "Send me the proposal. If it excites me, I'll send men, money... and maybe my private jet."
The call ended.
Caden raised a brow. "You're collecting billionaires now?"
"I'm making allies. And unpredictable moves." She turned to him. "We need eyes inside Bram's organization. Someone close."
Caden hesitated. "There's one."
"Who?"
A long silence.
"My half-brother," he said slowly. "Lucien Drake. Ex-military. Works as Bram's security chief. Cold, dangerous, and... not easily bought."
Alethea's eyes gleamed. "Good. Then he'll be fun."
Suddenly, a siren blared.
Caden grabbed his gun. "Motion sensors tripped. West wing."
They moved quickly, silently.
As they reached the corridor, a figure stepped into view.
Tall. Armed. Face hidden.
But as the figure lowered the gun, Alethea froze.
It was Marco Aragon — the dark billionaire from Argentina. The one man she hadn't expected to see again. The one who once offered her everything, only to vanish without a word.
"What the hell—" Caden raised his weapon.
Marco's voice cut through the tension. "Stand down. I'm not here to hurt her."
Alethea stared, fury and confusion battling inside her. "You left me. Lied to me. Why are you here?"
Marco stepped closer. "Because Bram sent me to kill you. And I said no."
Caden scoffed. "Touching. But we don't need more ghosts."
Marco's eyes never left Alethea's. "I didn't come back to haunt her. I came back to stand beside her."
The silence was deafening.
Then Alethea turned away. "You'll sleep in the east wing. One wrong move, and Caden will bury you in the vineyard."
Marco smirked. "Noted."
As the night deepened, Alethea sat alone in her room, staring at a chessboard.
The queen had moved.
And now, the board was hers.
TBC..................