Chapter 2 The Spider's Web

Alessia spent the next week methodically mapping the Castello empire. Each day, she arrived at the mansion under the guise of planning the gala, clipboard in hand and fabricated enthusiasm in her voice. And each night, she returned to her apartment and documented everything she had learned.

"He's expanded beyond what we thought," she told Marco as they sat in her kitchen, surrounded by notes and blueprints of the Castello properties. "It's not just drugs and weapons anymore. They've got legitimate businesses, tech companies, real estate developments, and even a chain of high-end restaurants."

Marco frowned, the lines in his weathered face deepening. "That's how they're laundering the money. The question is, how much of it is actually legitimate?"

"Enough to make the FBI investigation stall," Alessia replied, tapping her pen against her notepad. "But there's something else. Dante's running operations differently than his father did. He's... modernizing. Less violence, more corporate strategy."

"Don't be fooled," Marco warned. "The violence is still there-just outsourced. More efficient, less messy. Dante Castello didn't get where he is by being soft."

Alessia nodded, remembering the ruthless intelligence she'd observed in Dante's eyes. "I'm not underestimating him. But I need to understand how he thinks if I'm going to find his weak points."

"And have you?" Marco asked. "Found his weak points?"

She hesitated, thinking of the moments when she'd caught Dante watching her with an intensity that went beyond professional interest. "Maybe. But I need more time."

"Time is something we don't have much of," Marco said grimly. "Word from inside Blackgate is that your father's condition is deteriorating. And if we're going to get him out alive, we need to move soon."

Alessia's heart clenched. She hadn't seen her father in seven years-not since the night he'd forced her to flee while he stayed behind to face the Castello hitmen. The official story was that Antonio Ricci had died in the massacre that killed twenty-three members of their organization. The truth was far more complex.

"I need access to Dante's private records," she said, pushing aside her emotions. "There has to be something that connects him directly to illegal activities-something we can use as leverage."

"Or something you can use to kill him," Marco said bluntly.

Alessia met his gaze steadily. "Killing him isn't enough. I want to take everything from him first-just like he took everything from us."

Marco nodded slowly. "There's a rumor about a private server in the Castello mansion. If it exists, that's where he'd keep the sensitive information."

"I'll find it," Alessia promised. "But first, I need to establish myself as indispensable."

---

The next morning, Alessia arrived at the Castello mansion earlier than usual. She had made a point of working closely with the household staff, learning their routines and earning their trust. Mrs. Vega, initially cold and suspicious, had gradually warmed to her as Alessia demonstrated her competence.

"Good morning, Mrs. Vega," Alessia said as the older woman met her at the door. "I brought those specialty teas you mentioned liking." She handed over a small, elegantly wrapped package.

Mrs. Vega's stern expression softened slightly. "That was thoughtful, Ms. Bianchi. Thank you."

"Please, it's Sofia," Alessia reminded her with a warm smile. "And it's the least I could do after all your help. Is Mr. Castello available this morning? I need his approval on the final menu selections."

"He's in his study," Mrs. Vega replied. "But he has a guest. Antonio Rossi arrived early for their meeting."

Alessia's pulse quickened. Antonio Rossi-the man who had betrayed her father to the Castellos. She had been expecting to encounter him eventually, but not this soon.

"I see," she said, keeping her voice level. "Perhaps I should come back later."

"No need," Mrs. Vega said, already turning toward the grand staircase. "Mr. Castello asked to be informed when you arrived. I'll let him know you're here."

Alessia followed the housekeeper up the stairs, using the moment to compose herself. She had prepared for this encounter. Rossi had never met Sofia Bianchi, and he hadn't seen Alessia Ricci since she was sixteen, before she'd dyed her hair, lost weight, that is and learned to carry herself differently. Still, he was dangerous. If anyone could recognize her, it would be him.

Mrs. Vega knocked on the study door and entered after Dante's muffled "Come in."

"Ms. Bianchi is here, sir," she announced.

Alessia stepped into the room, her professional smile firmly in place. Dante was seated behind his desk, looking impeccable in a navy suit that emphasized his broad shoulders. Across from him sat Antonio Rossi, older than she remembered but still with the same sharp eyes and cruel mouth.

"Sofia," Dante greeted her, rising from his chair. "Perfect timing. Antonio, this is Sofia Bianchi, the event planner I mentioned. Sofia, Antonio Rossi, an old family friend and business associate."

Rossi turned to look at her, his gaze assessing. Alessia felt a chill run down her spine but maintained her composure, extending her hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rossi. I've heard so much about you."

Rossi took her hand, his grip firm. "Likewise, Ms. Bianchi. Dante tells me you're working wonders with this charity event."

"I'm just doing my job," she replied modestly, trying not to think about how this man had stood by while her family was slaughtered. How he had sworn loyalty to her father before betraying him.

"Sofia has an eye for detail that's proving invaluable," Dante said, coming around his desk. "She's suggested several security measures that even Giovanni approves of."

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "High praise indeed. Giovanni rarely approves of anything that isn't his own idea."

Alessia made a mental note of the name. Giovanni must be Dante's head of security-another potential obstacle.

"Actually," Dante continued, "I was hoping you could join us for lunch today, Sofia. Antonio here has some additional guests he'd like to add to the event list, and you can discuss the menu with me at the same time."

This was unexpected. Alessia had been avoiding sharing meals with Dante, preferring to keep their interactions strictly professional. But refusing would seem suspicious.

"Of course," she said smoothly. "I'd be happy to."

"Excellent," Dante replied with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "We'll eat in the dinning room at one. Until then, Antonio and I have some private business to discuss."

Recognizing the dismissal, Alessia nodded and turned to leave. As she reached the door, Rossi's voice stopped her.

"Ms. Bianchi, you look remarkably familiar. Have we met before?"

Alessia turned slowly, her heart hammering against her ribs. "I don't believe so, Mr. Rossi. I have one of those faces, I suppose."

Rossi studied her for a moment longer, then shrugged. "Must be. Forgive me for the confusion."

"Not at all," she replied with a practiced smile. "I'll see you both at lunch."

As she closed the door behind her, Alessia released a slow, steady breath. That had been close-too close. She needed to be more careful around Rossi.

She made her way to the room she'd been given as a temporary office, her mind racing. Was Rossi genuinely suspicious, or was it just her paranoia? Either way, she needed to accelerate her plans. The longer she remained in the Castello mansion, the greater the risk of discovery.

Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. "Be careful. R suspects something."

Marco. He must have a source inside the Castello organization-someone he hadn't told her about for her protection.

Alessia deleted the message immediately. She needed access to Dante's private files, and she needed it soon. Which meant she needed to gain his trust, perhaps even his affection.

The thought made her stomach turn. Using seduction as a tactic felt like a betrayal of everything she stood for. But what choice did she have? Her father's life depended on her success.

She pulled out her tablet and began reviewing the gala plans, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. The event was now just four weeks away, and she needed to maintain her cover impeccably.

A knock at the door startled her. "Come in," she called, quickly composing herself.

The door opened to reveal Dante, without Rossi. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"I apologize for Antonio's rudeness," he said without preamble. "He can be... suspicious by nature."

Alessia shrugged, showing nonchalance. "It's understandable in your line of work. People must be careful about who they trust."

Dante's eyes narrowed slightly. "My line of work?"

"Event planning for high-profile clients," she clarified smoothly. "Security concerns come with the territory."

He studied her for a moment, then moved further into the room, perching on the edge of her desk. The position placed him uncomfortably close, forcing her to look up at him.

"You're not what I expected, Sofia," he said, his voice dropping to a lower register that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"Oh?" she managed, keeping her expression neutral. "And what did you expect?"

"Someone more... predictable." His gaze was intense, searching. "Most people in your position try to ingratiate themselves. They're transparent in their ambitions."

"I'm not most people," Alessia replied, holding his gaze. "And my only ambition is to do my job well."

Dante's mouth curved into a smile that held genuine amusement. "Now that, I don't believe for a second."

Before she could respond, he stood and moved toward the door. "I look forward to lunch, Sofia. I think we have much to discuss."

As the door closed behind him, Alessia released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Dante Castello was too perceptive, and she was walking a very dangerous line.

But she hadn't survived seven years of exile by being cautious. She had infiltrated the lion's den, and now she needed to tame the lion-or at least distract him long enough to steal his teeth.

---

Lunch in the dining was an elegant affair. Sunshine streamed through the glass ceiling, illuminating the lush tropical plants that filled the space. A small table had been set for three, with fine china and crystal glassware.

Alessia found herself seated between Dante and Rossi, an arrangement that left her feeling exposed. As they discussed the gala guest list, she maintained her professional demeanor while carefully observing the interaction between the two men.

Rossi deferred to Dante in a way that spoke of genuine respect rather than fear. Interesting. From what Marco had told her, Rossi had betrayed her father because he believed Antonio Ricci was weak. That he cared more about peace than power. Was Dante different enough from his father that Rossi had found in him a leader he could truly follow?

"The governor has confirmed his attendance," Dante was saying, "along with three state senators and Judge Harrington."

"Quite the influential crowd," Alessia noted, taking a sip of water. "Your foundation must do impressive work to garner such support."

"The Castello Foundation for Children's Education has built five schools in underprivileged areas over the past three years," Dante replied. "We've also established scholarship programs that have sent over a hundred students to college."

"All while maintaining a remarkably low overhead," Rossi added with a meaningful smile. "Very efficient use of funds."

Money laundering, Alessia translated silently. The foundation was legitimate enough on the surface, but she would bet her life that a significant portion of the donations were being cycled back into the Castello criminal enterprises.

"I've been meaning to ask," she said, carefully steering the conversation, "will your father be attending the gala? I haven't seen his name on the guest list."

A brief silence fell over the table. Dante's expression remained neutral, but Alessia caught the slight tension in his shoulders.

"My father is in Switzerland," he replied evenly. "Extended medical treatment. He won't be back in time for the event."

Rossi shifted in his seat, his discomfort obvious. "Salvatore's health has been poor for some time," he added, his tone careful. "A shame. He always enjoyed these functions."

Alessia nodded sympathetically, filing away this reaction for later analysis. According to Marco's intelligence, Salvatore Castello had stepped down three years ago, supposedly for health reasons. But the timing had always seemed suspicious, it was right after the FBI had started closing in on several of their operations.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "Family is so important. I lost my parents when I was young, so I understand the difficulty of separation."

It was a calculated risk, mentioning her fabricated orphan background. But she needed to gauge their reactions, particularly Rossi's.

"How terrible," Rossi said, his expression appropriately somber. "How did they pass, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Car accident," Alessia lied smoothly. "I was sixteen. My aunt raised me after that."

"Tragic," Dante murmured, his dark eyes studying her face. "You've done well for yourself, considering."

There was something in his tone that made Alessia wonder if he was testing her. She met his gaze directly. "We all have our crosses to bear, Mr. Castello. The question is whether we let them break us or make us stronger."

A smile ghosted across his lips. "Dante," he corrected. "And you're right, of course. Adversity reveals character."

The rest of lunch passed in discussion of the gala details. Alessia made notes of Rossi's additional guests-all wealthy businessmen with questionable connections-and agreed to Dante's suggestions for the menu. By the time dessert was served, she was exhausted from the constant vigilance required to maintain her façade.

As they were finishing their coffee, Dante's phone buzzed. He checked it, his expression darkening.

"Excuse me," he said, standing abruptly. "I need to take this. Antonio, we'll continue our discussion later."

After Dante left, Alessia found herself alone with Rossi-the man who had betrayed her family. She fought to keep her expression pleasant, her body language relaxed.

"He's impressive, isn't he?" Rossi commented, gesturing toward the door Dante had just exited through. "Much more... decisive than his father."

"He seems very capable," Alessia agreed neutrally.

Rossi leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Some advice, Ms. Bianchi? Don't get too attached. Dante doesn't keep people around when they've served their purpose."

The warning held a veiled threat that made Alessia's skin crawl. "I'm just here to do a job, Mr. Rossi. Nothing more."

"Of course," he replied with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "But I've seen how he looks at you. And how you look at him when you think no one's watching."

Alessia felt her cheeks warm despite herself. "You're mistaken."

"Perhaps," Rossi conceded, standing. "But in this family, Ms. Bianchi, mistakes can be fatal."

He left her sitting alone in the dining room, her coffee growing cold. Alessia exhaled slowly, processing the interaction. Rossi was suspicious-not necessarily of her true identity, but of her intentions toward Dante. Which meant she needed to be more careful about how she approached the Castello heir.

As she gathered her notes, Alessia noticed a small envelope that hadn't been there before, tucked partially under her napkin. Heart racing, she palmed it discretely and slipped it into her pocket.

She waited until she was alone in her temporary office to open it. Inside was a key card with no markings and a note written in elegant script:

"East wing, third floor, last door on the left. Midnight. Come alone."

No signature, but it could only be from one person. Dante Castello was inviting her into his private domain, after hours, without witnesses.

It could be a trap. Or it could be the opportunity she'd been waiting for.

Either way, Alessia knew she would be there at midnight. Because whatever game Dante was playing, she intended to win.

What she didn't know was that three floors below, in a dimly lit security room, Dante was watching her reaction on a monitor, his expression unreadable.

"Are you sure about this?" Giovanni, his head of security, asked from beside him. "If she's who you think she is-"

"She is," Dante interrupted. "I'm certain of it."

"Then you're taking an unnecessary risk."

Dante's gaze remained fixed on Alessia's image as she tucked the key card into her pocket. "On the contrary. I'm simply moving a piece on the board."

Giovanni frowned. "This isn't a game, Dante."

"Everything is a game, Giovanni," Dante replied softly. "And I always win."

But as he watched Alessia leave the room, a flicker of doubt crossed his face. Because despite his confidence, he couldn't deny the strange effect she had on him-an effect that had nothing to do with strategy and everything to do with the way his heart raced when she was near.

A reaction he hadn't anticipated. A weakness he couldn't afford.

A piece on the board that might just change the game entirely.