Chapter 5 Beneath the Throne

The palace dungeons were not on the official map.

Carved into the rock beneath Estaria's oldest towers, they were reserved for traitors, spies, and secrets too ugly for daylight. Alessia had only heard whispers about them until now.

She followed Falcon through a hidden passage behind the wine cellar. The torchlight flickered, casting moving shadows on the damp walls. Her stilettos echoed off the stone, sharp like gunfire.

"Why bring me here?" she demanded. "What is this place?"

Falcon didn't stop walking. "Proof. Of everything."

She gritted her teeth. "You could've warned me before they killed the woman with my name."

Falcon's voice was grim. "I didn't know they were that close. Whoever's playing this game is two steps ahead... even of me."

Alessia fell silent.

She hated feeling outplayed.

Hated it more than fear.

At the end of the corridor, Falcon pushed open a heavy steel door.

Inside, yellowed files were stacked to the ceiling ,unmarked folders, classified maps, even old surveillance tapes.

And in the center?

A metal table. Bloodstained. Rusted. And very royal.

"What is this?" Alessia whispered.

Falcon picked up a folder marked Operation Glass Thorn.

She opened it and her world cracked.

Inside were photographs.

One was her father, Don Lorenzo Moretti chained to a wall.

Another was Nikolai's uncle , General Vasari ,who signed off on his execution.

And one more.

A black-and-white image of a girl.

Alessia.

Fourteen. Wide-eyed. Terrified.

Marked as: Collateral. Let Live. Monitor.

Her knees nearly buckled.

They'd known.

They had spared her.

Watched her.

Planned for her return.

Falcon's voice cut through her haze. "You weren't overlooked, Alessia. You were bait. The Vasaris kept you alive for a reason."

She looked at him, trembling. "What reason?"

Before he could answer, the steel door slammed shut.

They both spun around.

A lock clicked.

Then silence.

From the shadows, a figure stepped into view.

Nikolai.

His royal regalia gone, replaced by a black turtleneck and tailored pants. No crown. No guards.

Just him.

And a gun.

Alessia's breath hitched. "You followed me?"

"I'm not an idiot," he said quietly. "And I'm not blind."

She stared at him. "So what now? You kill me?"

His jaw clenched. "Tell me who you really are."

Falcon moved to intercept, but Nikolai raised the weapon, steady.

"Alessia," he repeated, voice low. "I trusted you."

"And I danced with the man who signed my father's death," she hissed.

Nikolai's expression flickered. "That wasn't me."

"No," she snapped. "But you wear the crown built on his grave."

The room pulsed with tension.

Truth. Betrayal. Vengeance.

Then the sirens blared.

Falcon cursed. "They found us."

Alessia grabbed a file, stuffing it under her gown. "I'm getting out of here. With proof."

Nikolai didn't move. "If you walk away now, you'll start a war."

Her eyes locked with his. "That's the point."

She pushed past him, disappearing into the tunnel with Falcon at her heels.

Behind her, Nikolai stood alone staring at the empty chamber.

His world was crumbling.

And he couldn't tell anymore...

If he wanted to save Alessia Moretti... or destroy her.