She didn't sleep that night. Just sat there, floor cold under her legs, back against the wall, Glock in her lap like an old friend. The guy Lorenzo sent… amateur. Meant to scare her, not kill her. But that move was loud, messy. Lorenzo was slipping. Or maybe he was spiraling. Either way, Rosa saw it for what it was—
Desperation.
Morning rolled in slow. Light slicing through the blinds like blades. She finally stood, stretched the stiffness out her bones, and walked to the kitchen. Coffee first, always. Two sugars, no milk. The bitterness kept her awake, the sweetness reminded her there was still a little softness left in her. Somewhere.
Phone buzzed once. Killian .
> "We got the blueprints. Estate's massive. But I found you a crack."
> "Talk."
> "Delivery route. Fresh produce comes in Wednesdays and Saturdays. Guard rotation is weak during drop-offs. One blind spot near the east greenhouse. Cameras aren't patched fully there. You can slip in."
> "Tomorrow's Wednesday."
> "Exactly."
Rosa smirked.
---
ROME – MANCINI ESTATE
The mansion looked like something out of a damn magazine. White marble walls, iron gates, tall trees lining the front like bodyguards. Wealth didn't whisper here—it screamed. Old money, old secrets. The kind that was paid for in blood and buried bodies.
She came in disguised. Wig, fake ID, delivery uniform, cargo truck. Basket of overpriced peaches in her arms like she gave a damn.
Security checked her papers half-assed. She smiled sweet, flirted just enough to distract him, then walked right in.
Ten steps in, she already knew. This place wasn't just a house—it was a tomb. It smelled like power and rot. Everything too clean, too perfect. Like it was hiding something underneath the surface.
She walked slow, eyes scanning. Memorizing cameras, exits, guards.
Killian was in her ear through a mic. "Go right. Down the greenhouse path. Security cam above you's down for 12 seconds every 90. You got a window—now."
She slipped right, heart steady. Barely a sound under her boots. The greenhouse loomed ahead—glass walls, sunlight dancing through vines and roses.
Of course he'd have roses.
---
Inside, she found what she didn't expect—peace.
Plants. Hundreds. Rows of herbs, fruits, flowers. It smelled like earth and water and something else. Memory maybe.
She moved fast. Hidden in the shade of leaves, behind crates of fertilizer and clay pots.
Then she heard the voice.
"Beautiful, aren't they?"
Rosa froze.
Lorenzo.
He stood on the other side of the glass. Phone in hand, tailored shirt rolled at the sleeves, talking to someone she couldn't see.
"They thrive when left alone. But touch them wrong… they wilt. Or fight back."
She pressed closer to the vines, heartbeat low but fast.
"I know it was her," Lorenzo said into the phone. "Rosa. Or whatever she's calling herself now. That ghost doesn't stay dead. I want her found."
Rosa's nails dug into her palm.
"She has something. Maybe everything. If she leaks more… we're finished."
He paused. Then something strange happened.
His voice dropped. "And I can't decide if I want to kill her… or kiss her."
Rosa's stomach twisted.
She backed away. Quiet. Every step calculated. When she finally made it out, heart still racing, she didn't stop till she hit the street.
---
BACK AT HER PLACE
Rosa slammed the door shut behind her, yanked off the wig, threw it on the couch. She paced.
Killian 's voice cut in, "You alright?"
"I saw him."
Pause.
"He talked about me like I was… a threat. But also something else."
Killian sighed. "He's obsessed. That's dangerous."
"I know."
"You getting soft?"
She stopped pacing. "No. I'm getting ready."
---
THAT NIGHT
She posted the second leak. Anonymous. A video this time. Security footage from 2017—Riccardo Mancini handing off a case of cash to a known arms dealer. Location: Vatican City. Yes. Inside the walls.
Within minutes, the internet exploded.
> "Mancini family deep in arms trafficking?"
> "Don Riccardo caught on tape—Vatican not commenting."
Lorenzo called a meeting. Emergency board gathering. Shares dropped 18% by the end of the day.
First hit. Direct. Loud.
Rosa sat back and watched the world turn upside down. Her wine glass was full. Her lips, smirking.
Then her phone rang again.
Unknown number.
She didn't answer. But a voicemail came in.
She played it.
"Nice trick," Lorenzo's voice. Cold. Controlled. "But next time, aim better. You wanna fight me? Do it properly. Face me."
---
THREE DAYS LATER – ROME, GALLERY OPENING
He was there. Dressed sharp. Surrounded by fake friends and real enemies pretending to be friends. Camera flashes. Champagne. Art.
She walked in like she owned the place. Silk dress, blood red. Hair pinned up. No weapon. Just a smirk.
He saw her from across the room. Didn't blink.
Walked straight to her.
The crowd parted.
"Belladonna," he said.
She tilted her head. "Mancini."
They stared for one long second.
Then he smiled. The dangerous kind.
"Didn't think you had the guts to show."
"Didn't think you still wore your father's shadow like a suit."
Touché.
He leaned close. Too close.
"Why are you really here?"
"To watch you burn."
A pause.
"You still smell the same," he murmured, nose near her hair.
"You still reek of secrets."
He laughed softly.
"You hate me that much?"
"No. Hate is for people who matter."
"Then why haven't you killed me yet?"
She stepped closer. Her voice dropped.
"Because I want you to feel it. I want you to see everything fall. Brick by brick. I want you begging. And I want you alive for it."
Then she turned and walked away.
And he watched her like a man watching his past come back with fire in her hands.
---
BACK AT HER PLACE
Killian was waiting.
"You just declared war."
"I know."
"You ready for what comes next?"
She lit a cigarette. Took one drag. Exhaled.
"I'm not stopping."
"Then we hit harder."
"What's the next move?"
He dropped a folder on the table. "Lorenzo's inner circle. His lawyer. His mistress. His accountant. One of them's already cracking."
She opened it. Saw the photo. A woman.
Young. Pretty. Nervous eyes.
"Anna Ricci," Killian said. "She handles the charity front. But she's been embezzling. He doesn't know yet. We can use her."
Rosa nodded.
"Get her talking."
Killian smirked. "Oh, she's already singing."
-