Chapter 3: The First Strike
The morning sun cut through the silk curtains, brightening Alina's sharp features as she sipped her coffee. She had barely slept, her mind racing with possibilities.
Today was the day of her first move.
Across from her at the marble breakfast table sat Marco, Leonardo's personal watchdog. His expression was blank and formal, but Alina could sense his eyes tracking her every move.
She didn't mind. In fact, she welcomed it.
Let Leonardo watch. Let him analyze. She wanted him to see her strength.
"Schedule for today, Miss Moretti?" Marco asked politely.
Alina set her cup down. "I have a lunch meeting at the Verona Hotel. Private room. Make sure no one else gets close."
"Yes, Miss." He nodded and typed a few notes on his tablet.
The Verona Hotel wasn't just any hotel; it was one of her father's secret negotiation spots. She arranged this meeting quietly through a carefully placed rumor. By now, her uncle, Enzo Moretti, would have heard that she planned to meet someone in secret.
She was counting on it.
Her uncle Enzo was like a hyena—paranoid, greedy, and always hungry for more. In her previous life, he played a significant role in her downfall, whispering poison into her father's ear. But now, she would turn his paranoia against him.
"Make sure the car is ready," she added. "I don't want any delays."
"Yes, Miss Moretti."
As Marco left to make arrangements, Alina glanced at herself in the mirror across the room. The reflection that stared back was no longer the naive girl who once lived in this body.
This Alina was sharper. Colder.
She would burn them all.
**Two hours later.**
The Verona Hotel shimmered under the noon sun, its golden glass windows reflecting the cloudless sky. As Alina entered the private dining room on the top floor, her heels echoed across the marble.
She wore a tailored ivory dress that highlighted her figure without being provocative. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, her makeup flawless. Every detail was carefully planned to send a message: confidence. Power.
She sat alone at the round table set for two, fully aware that the person she was meeting wouldn't show.
Because this meeting was a trap—her own trap.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
Her phone buzzed under the table.
**Unknown Number:**
> Your uncle sent men. Three cars. Arriving in two minutes. Your move.
Alina's lips curved into a faint smile.
Leonardo was watching too, it seemed.
Perfect.
As the elevator doors chimed behind her, four armed men stepped into the room, their faces showing casual arrogance.
"Miss Moretti," one of them greeted mockingly. "You've been quite busy lately. Your uncle sends his regards."
Alina rose gracefully, folding her hands in front of her. "Did he also send an invitation to join him in hell?"
The men stiffened slightly at her boldness.
"We're just here to escort you, Miss," the leader sneered. "Quietly, if you cooperate."
Alina tilted her head. "And if I don't?"
He smirked, revealing a pistol tucked into his belt.
For a brief moment, the air thickened with an unspoken threat.
But Alina didn't flinch. She calmly reached into her purse—not for a weapon—but for her phone.
With a single tap, she activated the silent code Leonardo had given her.
Within seconds, the room erupted into chaos.
The door burst open as Leonardo's men stormed in—six highly trained bodyguards dressed in tactical black, weapons raised.
In less than ten seconds, the four of her uncle's men were disarmed, pinned to the ground, their faces pressed against the marble floor.
Marco entered last, his pistol steady, eyes cold. "All secure, Miss Moretti."
Alina stepped over one of the groaning men, her heels clicking softly. She crouched beside their leader, whose face was now pale and sweating.
"Tell my uncle," she whispered sweetly, "next time, he should send more competent dogs."
The man shivered but said nothing.
Alina rose and addressed Marco. "Take them to Mr. Valenti. He'll know how to extract the necessary information."
"Yes, Miss."
As they dragged the men away, Alina walked to the full-length window, watching the streets below. The city pulsed with life, completely unaware of the silent war above them.
This was her first message to the Moretti family.
She wasn't weak anymore.
Later that evening, at Leonardo's private estate.
Leonardo stood beside the large aquarium in his study, swirling a glass of whiskey as Alina entered.
She crossed the room gracefully, fully aware of his piercing gaze following her every step.
"You handled yourself well today," Leonardo said smoothly. "I'm impressed."
Alina smiled faintly. "I don't intend to be anyone's pawn this time."
"You played bait perfectly," he added, setting his glass down. "But bait often gets bitten."
"I was never alone," she countered, her voice cool. "Your men were excellent."
Leonardo walked closer, stopping just inches from her. "You're learning. That's good. But the deeper you go, Alina, the more dangerous it becomes. The Morettis don't forgive betrayal."
"I'm counting on that."
For a brief moment, their eyes locked, the air thick with tension.
He studied her as if trying to uncover her weaknesses. But Alina stood her ground.
"You fascinate me," he murmured finally. "You walk into fire willingly. You gamble with vipers."
"I have no choice," she said softly. "The only way to survive is to strike first."
Leonardo's lips curved slightly. "You remind me of myself at your age."
Her heart raced at the admission. She knew earning his respect was crucial.
Then his voice dropped lower, almost intimate. "But be careful, Alina. Every alliance comes with invisible chains."
Alina met his gaze. "Are you offering me protection, or chains, Mr. Valenti?"
"Both," he said simply. "That's how power works."
Silence stretched between them again. The unspoken tension was undeniable, almost electric.
Leonardo stepped back, breaking the moment. "I'll have Marco deliver the list of your uncle's offshore accounts tomorrow. Use them wisely."
"I will."
"And one more thing," he added, his voice sharp. "No more surprise moves without informing me first."
Alina gave a faint, knowing smile. "Of course, Mr. Valenti."
He didn't trust her completely. Not yet.
And she didn't trust him either.
But for now, they needed each other.
Later that night, in her penthouse…
Alina stood on the balcony, the cool wind sweeping her loose hair back as the city sparkled below. She clutched her wine glass, staring at the maze of lights.
The first strike was successful. Enzo had panicked, revealing his hand sooner than she expected.
Tomorrow, she would start freezing his accounts, one by one, slowly choking his resources.
But she couldn't let herself get overconfident.
Her father was still the biggest threat. Unlike Enzo, her father was strategic. Cold. Ruthless. Brilliant.
He had built an empire from blood and fear.
She would need more than courage to bring him down.
Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number:
**"I know what you're planning, Little Princess. The dead don't stay dead forever. See you soon."**
Alina's breath hitched. Her blood ran cold.
The message was signed with a single name.
**— Adrian.**
Her ex-fiancé.
The man who had shot her in her previous life.
The man she thought was out of the country.
He was back.
A chill ran through her bones.
The real war had only just begun.
To be continued...