Elena didn't sleep.
The estate was quiet in the way only powerful places could be—guarded silence, layered and intentional. From her balcony, the city glowed faintly, distant and unaware of how close danger had crept.
Someone had wanted to humiliate her.
Publicly. Strategically.
That meant planning. Access. Familiarity.
It meant the threat wasn't distant anymore.
Her phone buzzed softly just after dawn.
ALLESSANDRO:
Security briefing. My study. Now.
She didn't hesitate.
The study was dim, walls lined with books she suspected had never been read for pleasure. Alessandro stood near the desk, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up again—the uniform of conflict.
Three men were already inside. One woman.
All stopped talking when Elena entered.
"This is my wife," Alessandro said flatly. "Speak freely."
That alone told her how serious this was.
The woman stepped forward. "I'm Sofia. Digital security."
She tapped a tablet, pulling up images from the charity event. Timelines. Signal trails. Access logs.
"The projection was hijacked from inside the network," Sofia said. "Not remote. Someone with clearance."
Elena's fingers curled slightly. "So this wasn't a warning."
"No," Alessandro said. "It was a test."
Sofia nodded. "And whoever did it wanted to see how fast we'd respond."
"And?" Elena asked.
"And they're still watching."
A chill traced her spine—not fear, but clarity.
"Isabella," Elena said calmly.
The room stilled.
Alessandro's jaw tightened. "It's not confirmed."
"But you believe it."
"I believe she had motive," he said. "And access."
Elena stepped closer to the desk. "Then stop treating me like a protected asset and let me help."
One of the men shifted. "With respect—"
Alessandro lifted a hand. Silence fell instantly.
He studied Elena, eyes searching her face. "This isn't a boardroom play."
"No," she agreed. "It's a psychological one. And I know how those work."
A long pause.
"Give us the room," Alessandro said finally.
The others hesitated, then left. The door closed with a soft, final click.
Now they were alone.
"You don't trust me," Elena said quietly.
Alessandro leaned back against the desk. "I trust your intelligence. I don't trust the cost."
She crossed her arms. "You don't get to decide what I can survive."
"I get to decide what I prevent."
Their gazes locked—heat, tension, restraint stretched thin.
"I want to meet her," Elena said.
His expression hardened. "Absolutely not."
"Privately. No confrontation. Just observation."
"She's dangerous."
"So am I," Elena replied evenly.
That surprised him.
He exhaled slowly. "You're asking to step deeper into this."
"I already have," she said. "The moment I said yes."
Silence pressed in around them.
Then Alessandro nodded—once. Sharp. Decisive.
"One meeting," he said. "On my terms."
Isabella chose the terrace.
Late afternoon. Soft light. Privacy disguised as openness.
"Elena," Isabella greeted smoothly. "I was hoping we'd speak."
"How convenient," Elena replied, taking the seat across from her.
They exchanged pleasantries that felt like weapons sheathed in silk.
"You handled the other night well," Isabella said. "Not everyone survives their first attack with grace."
Elena smiled faintly. "I don't consider it survival. I consider it exposure."
Isabella's eyes flickered. "Careful."
"Of what?" Elena asked. "Of speaking plainly?"
Isabella leaned back. "You're new here. There are layers you don't yet understand."
"Then enlighten me."
A pause.
"You're temporary," Isabella said quietly. "A solution, not a future."
Elena met her gaze without blinking. "That's not for you to decide."
"No," Isabella agreed. "But it is for me to influence."
The honesty was startling.
"Why?" Elena asked. "Why provoke this?"
Isabella smiled thinly. "Because Alessandro changes things. And people like me don't survive change."
There it was.
Fear—disguised as ambition.
"Then adapt," Elena said. "Or step aside."
Isabella stood. "You think he chose you."
"I know he did."
Isabella leaned closer. "Men like Alessandro don't choose. They conquer."
Elena rose too. "Then you've misunderstood him."
Isabella's smile faded. "We'll see."
That night, Elena stood in Alessandro's doorway.
"You were right," she said quietly. "She did it."
He looked up from his desk. "And?"
"And she's scared."
His eyes darkened. "That makes her unpredictable."
Elena stepped inside, closing the door behind her. The space between them tightened—charged, intimate without touch.
"She warned me," Elena continued. "About you."
He laughed softly. "Everyone does."
"She thinks you'll destroy me."
His gaze lifted slowly. "Do you?"
"No," Elena said. "I think you'll try to protect me until it costs you something."
Silence.
Then Alessandro spoke, voice low. "And what will you do when it does?"
Elena met his eyes. "Stand with you."
Something in him shifted—control cracking just enough to let truth through.
"That," he said quietly, "is exactly what they're afraid of."
They stood there, close enough that restraint felt like a choice—one neither was ready to stop making.
Not yet.
Because the war had just revealed its players.
And Elena was no longer a pawn.