Chapter 9 Whispers of Bianca

The villa's war room buzzed with tension as the team gathered around a digital projection of Europe. Red pins marked known enemy safehouses. New data, courtesy of Matteo's confession, revealed a web of covert operations stretching from the French Riviera to Eastern Europe.

But one pin pulsed brighter than the rest-Milan. Bianca Rinaldi's last confirmed location.

"She's recruiting the remnants of Lucia's army," Marco reported. "Her methods are cleaner, but just as ruthless."

Elena studied the map, arms crossed. "She wants to be queen of the empire."

"No," Alessandro said. "She wants to rewrite it. Bianca doesn't want the chaos Lucia built. She wants legitimacy."

Marco nodded. "She's buying up tech companies, laundering old cartel money through art dealers. Her approach is smarter. She's building a dynasty, not a gang."

Elena's brows furrowed. "Then we have to stop her before she becomes untouchable."

Later, in Alessandro's study, he traced his fingers across old family blueprints, thinking aloud. "Bianca was always calculated. Even Lucia feared her mind. If she's gone dark, it means she's preparing something big."

Elena leaned over his shoulder. "So how do we flush out a ghost?"

He looked up at her. "By becoming what she fears most-unpredictable."

That evening, Elena and Alessandro attended a private gala in Florence, rumored to be frequented by Bianca's new allies. The hall glimmered with crystal chandeliers and soft music. Surveillance drones buzzed overhead like mechanical fireflies.

Alessandro wore a sleek midnight-blue suit. Elena, in an emerald gown, scanned the crowd like a hawk.

They didn't wait long. Bianca's voice, cool and confident, sliced through the noise.

"Elena Russo. I almost didn't recognize you out of captivity."

Elena turned to face her. Bianca stood poised in a tailored black dress, her platinum-blonde hair swept back, eyes sharp as obsidian. She exuded power and poise-a woman born for dominance.

"You've been busy," Elena replied.

"I admire your evolution. Lucia broke things. You... you inspire fear without saying a word."

"I'm not here to impress you."

Bianca smiled thinly. "No. You're here to warn me. But here's my warning-stay out of Milan. It's not your fight."

Alessandro stepped beside Elena. "Everything that threatens her becomes my fight."

Bianca's gaze lingered on him. "Still playing bodyguard and lover? I wonder how long before she eclipses even you."

"I hope she does," Alessandro said coolly.

Bianca's eyes narrowed. "This world chews up sentiment. Don't get soft."

With that, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Back at the villa, Elena paced. "She's daring us to move. She wants us to underestimate her."

"No," Alessandro said. "She wants us to act too soon."

"So we don't?"

He poured a glass of whiskey, his jaw tight. "We plan smarter. We watch. We wait. And when the moment comes, we strike hard and fast."

Elena took a deep breath. The encounter had left her rattled, but also sharper. Bianca wasn't Lucia-she was colder, smarter, and less predictable.

They weren't just fighting for revenge anymore. They were fighting for the future.

And the stakes had never been higher.