Chapter 5 A ghost in the night

The night was alive with neon lights and the hum of a city that never truly slept. Emily stood outside La Fortuna Casino, the private gambling den that catered to the Moretti Family's elite. Inside, men whispered about power and corruption over whiskey glasses, unaware that a ghost was about to slip through their defenses.

Victor had told her that Stefan Ricci was a creature of habit. Every Thursday, he arrived at the casino at exactly 9 PM, played blackjack at Table 3, drank two glasses of Macallan 18, and then retired to the penthouse suite with a blonde named Mila. It was a schedule he followed religiously, never breaking routine.

And tonight would be the last night he ever did.

Emily adjusted the black dress Victor had given her, form-fitting, elegant, and just alluring enough to let her blend into the casino's clientele. She had spent weeks training for this moment, perfecting every move, every deception. If she failed, she wouldn't just be caught she'd be dead.

With a deep breath, she stepped inside.

The scent of cigar smoke and expensive cologne filled the air as she walked past the bouncers at the entrance. She had memorized their shifts, their faces, even the way they stood. Predictable. The best kind of security to manipulate.

She had no weapons on her, nothing that could be traced back to her if things went sideways. This job required precision, not brute force.

A dealer flashed her a charming smile as she approached a roulette table, scanning the room carefully. Across the floor, Stefan Ricci sat at Table 3, exactly as expected. His fingers moved lazily over his cards, a half-smirk on his lips as he enjoyed his winning streak. A bodyguard stood behind him, eyes constantly scanning for threats.

Emily turned toward the bartender, ordering a martini. She had no intention of drinking it. This was merely part of the performance.

The bartender placed the drink in front of her, and as he turned to serve another guest, she palmed a tiny vial from the hidden slit in her dress. A fast-acting poison. Undetectable in an autopsy unless someone knew exactly what to look for.

Now, she needed a way to get close.

Emily subtly brushed against a man in a navy suit, one of the casino's VIP regulars and let her drink spill onto his jacket.

"Shit!" he cursed, stepping back in shock.

Emily gasped, feigning embarrassment. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Let me help..."

As expected, the commotion drew eyes. Even Stefan Ricci's bodyguard glanced over for a brief second.

That was all she needed.

With practiced ease, Evelyn slipped toward Stefan's table, casually setting her martini down as she "accidentally" switched it with his whiskey glass.

Stefan barely noticed as he picked up the poisoned drink.

She walked away without hesitation, disappearing into the crowd as she heard him down the entire glass in one sip.

Evelyn didn't stop moving. She walked straight to the bar, pretending to check her phone. One minute. That's how long it would take for the poison to kick in.

She glanced back just as Stefan Ricci clutched his chest, his face turning pale. He coughed violently, grabbing at the table as his body started to convulse. His bodyguard reacted immediately, shouting for help as people turned in panic.

"Heart attack!" someone yelled.

A medic rushed in, but Emily already knew it was too late.

By the time Stefan Ricci was pronounced dead, Emily was already in a cab, heading back to Victor.

Victor sat at the head of the wooden table in the safe house, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as Emily stood before him.

"You did good," he said. "No evidence. No witnesses. No trace."

Emily crossed her arms. "Then I'm ready."

Victor's smirk deepened. "Not yet."

A flicker of irritation crossed her face. "What do you mean? I just took out one of Don Carlo's men in a heavily guarded casino without getting caught and you tell me I'm still not ready?"

Victor leaned forward. "You've proven you can kill, but the Moretti Family doesn't just let people walk in. You need to be one of them."

She frowned. "And how do I do that?"

He tossed a manila folder onto the table. Evelyn opened it and froze.

Inside was a passport, ID, birth certificate... all under the name Elena Moretti.

A name she recognized.

She lifted her gaze to Victor, suspicion in her voice. "Elena Moretti... She's one of Don Carlo's cousins. She left for France years ago to study. I met her once when I was a kid. What are you playing at?"

Victor's expression was calm. "You're not Emily Moretti anymore. You're Elena Moretti. You're coming home."

Emily's blood ran cold.

"You want me to impersonate an actual member of the family?" she asked slowly.

"Yes," Victor said.

"Why? I'm also a member of the family. I can go back home as me" she said

"If you go back as Emily you can never know anything about the family, because Carlo will be suspicious of your sudden return since you left home after your brother's death".

She clenched her jaw. "And what happens if Don Carlo realizes I'm not her?"

Victor's smirk never wavered. "He won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

Victor leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Because Elena Moretti no longer exists."

Silence hung in the air.

Emily swallowed. "You killed her."

Victor nodded. "Without a trace. Just like you did with Stefan Ricci."

Her stomach twisted. She had seen what Victor was capable of, but hearing it spoken so casually sent a chill down her spine.

"You wanted revenge, Emily," Victor continued. "This is your way in. You'll be close to Don Carlo. Close enough to destroy him. Or back out now and let your brother's killers keep breathing."

Emily exhaled sharply.

There was no turning back.

She reached for the folder, her fingers brushing over her new identity.

"Fine," she said. "Elena Moretti it is."

Victor's smirk widened. "Then let's get to work."