The car door shut with a soft click.
But to Aria—
It sounded like a lock.
---
The city lights of Milan blurred past the tinted windows as the car moved through empty streets. No music. No conversation. Just silence thick enough to suffocate.
Il Principe sat beside her, composed as ever. One hand resting casually on his knee, the other holding a glass of wine like they were on some elegant evening drive.
As if she hadn't just walked away from everything.
---
"You're very quiet," he said finally.
---
Aria didn't look at him.
"I'm thinking."
---
He smiled faintly.
"Dangerous habit."
---
"So is lying," she replied.
---
That amused him.
---
"Good," he murmured. "I prefer honesty. Even when it hurts."
---
Her fingers curled into her palm.
"Then start talking."
---
He leaned back.
Studied her.
---
"You don't even ask where we're going."
---
"I don't care where," she said.
"I care why."
---
That made his smile deepen.
---
"Because you're not just some girl Raiden picked up," he said.
"You're the daughter of a man who almost destroyed everything I built."
---
Her chest tightened.
"My father was a professor."
---
Il Principe laughed softly.
"That's what he wanted you to believe."
---
The car slowed.
Gates opened.
---
And Aria finally looked outside.
---
A massive estate rose in front of her.
Cold.
Dark.
Beautiful in a way that felt wrong.
---
The devil's home.
---
---
Inside the Mansion
The doors opened before they even reached them.
Men stood in silence.
Watching.
Measuring.
Judging.
---
Aria stepped inside anyway.
Head high.
Heart racing.
---
"Welcome," Il Principe said smoothly, walking beside her,
"to the place your father almost burned down."
---
Her steps faltered.
Just slightly.
---
He noticed.
Of course he did.
---
"You want truth?" he continued.
"Then you'll see everything."
---
They walked through long corridors lined with portraits and dim lights. Every shadow felt alive. Every corner whispered secrets.
---
Until they reached a door.
---
Heavy.
Locked.
---
Il Principe opened it.
---
"Go on," he said.
---
Aria stepped inside.
---
And froze.
---
Walls covered in files.
Photos.
Maps.
Names.
---
And right in the center—
A board.
---
Her father's face.
Pinned.
Marked.
Connected to everything.
---
Her breath stopped.
---
"No…"
---
Il Principe stepped behind her.
Close.
Too close.
---
"He wasn't innocent," he said quietly.
"He was a traitor."
---
Her voice shook.
"You're lying."
---
He reached past her—
Pulled a file.
Dropped it into her hands.
---
"Read."
---
Her fingers trembled as she opened it.
Pages.
Reports.
Surveillance.
---
Her father.
Working with enemies.
Passing information.
Planning takedowns.
---
Against Il Principe.
Against the entire network.
---
Her vision blurred.
---
"He was trying to stop you," she whispered.
---
Il Principe's expression darkened slightly.
"From my perspective… he was trying to destroy everything."
---
She looked at him.
Eyes burning.
---
"So you killed him."
---
Silence.
---
Then—
A calm answer.
---
"Yes."
---
The truth hit harder than any lie.
---
Aria staggered back.
Breath shaking.
Heart breaking.
---
"You don't get to play victim," she said.
"He was protecting people."
---
Il Principe stepped closer.
---
"And I was protecting power," he replied.
"That's how this world works."
---
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
---
"And me?" she asked.
"What am I in all this?"
---
He looked at her carefully.
---
"You," he said slowly,
"are the only thing he left unfinished."
---
Silence filled the room again.
---
Then—
A phone rang.
---
Il Principe answered.
Listened.
---
His expression shifted.
Just slightly.
---
"Interesting," he murmured.
---
Aria's stomach dropped.
---
"What?"
---
He hung up.
Looked at her.
---
"Raiden is coming."
---
Her heart skipped.
---
"And when he does…" Il Principe smiled coldly,
"…we'll see who you really belong to."
---
Far away—
Engines roared.
Guns loaded.
War moved closer.
---
And in that moment—
Aria realized something terrifying.
---
She didn't know who she would choose.
---
End of Chapter 37