The room was still trembling. Everyone had seen the slap. Although it's not a physical slap the raw sting of it still echoed between Rose and Lorenzo like unfinished business. And even though the orchestra was playing again, trying to ease the tension, eyes stayed locked on her. On him. On the woman who walked in with fire in her eyes and left a trail of it across the face of Italy's golden boy.
But she didn't stop.
Rose kept walking. He didn't chase her this time. He just stood there, staring after her like he had seen a ghost—or a woman who wasn't afraid of his power anymore. Maybe he finally realized she was more dangerous without his name.
Cassian was already waiting by the elevator. His jaw was tight. He didn't say a word, just pulled her close when the doors closed behind them. No cameras. No fake smiles.
Just silence and the rise of her chest like she was trying to keep it together.
"That was reckless," he finally said, voice low but not angry. Concerned.
"That was necessary," she shot back, locking eyes with him. "You think I came this far just to let him talk me into submission?"
He didn't argue. He reached into his blazer, pulled out a velvet envelope, and handed it to her.
"What's this?"
"Your leverage."
Inside was a flash drive. Red metal. No label. But she already knew what it was.
"The ledger?"
Cassian nodded. "Not just his. I got you everything. Offshore accounts. Dummy corporations. Names of all the shareholders tied to his trafficking routes. Even the judges he's paid off."
Rose's fingers clenched around the drive like it was holy.
"I told you, you wouldn't have to fight this war alone," he added, his voice softer now.
Rose looked up at him. Cassian Moretti. Billionaire. King of the black market and financial godfather of Monaco. Cold to the world, but warm when it came to her. She didn't know what to make of that yet.
"Why are you helping me?" she asked finally.
He tilted his head, a little amused. "You think this is all business?"
Rose gave him a look.
Cassian's eyes darkened, then softened. "You were fire the moment I met you. I don't do things halfway, Rose. I don't just invest in empires—I invest in people who burn them down."
That made her smile for the first time that night.
The car ride to her new penthouse was quiet but not uncomfortable. She had left the fundraiser in ruins, and the media would eat it up by morning. But Rose didn't care. She needed to breathe. She needed space.
Cassian dropped her off and left her with two new security men, plus an encrypted laptop.
As soon as she was alone, she pulled out the flash drive and plugged it in.
What she saw?
Everything.
Ledgers detailing funds wired to fake charity accounts, women trafficked under labels like "shipment A21," property bought in the names of dead men. A network that didn't just point fingers at Lorenzo—it linked his entire family to the rot. The Mancini name wasn't just bloodied; it was soaked in filth.
She copied the files to three separate clouds. Uploaded one to Killian Rizzo 's dark web portal. Saved another on a hard drive she slipped into her bra. Paranoia was necessary now. Because once the first name leaked, hell would break loose.
And she would be the match.
Two nights later, Italy woke up to chaos.
BREAKING: Mancini Empire Tied to Money Laundering and Trafficking Ring
Rose watched the news, sipping her wine. Her face wasn't in the article. Not yet. But her fingerprints were all over the destruction. Politicians scrambled. Investors withdrew. Lorenzo's board called an emergency meeting. The family's stocks dropped 14% in one hour.
She got a call from an unknown number.
"You think this game is over?" Lorenzo's voice rasped through the line.
Rose didn't flinch. "Oh, darling. This isn't a game. This is vengeance."
He chuckled darkly. "Then play it well, because next time, there won't be an audience to save you."
She hung up.
If threats were all he had left, he was running out of options.
That same day, Cassian flew her to Geneva. Quiet meeting. Neutral territory.
"Killian Rizzo is in," he told her as she stepped into the private jet. "He wants to meet you himself."
Rose blinked. "He exists?"
Cassian smirked. "Of course. But don't expect a face. He'll speak. You'll listen."
That night, under dim lighting in a castle-like estate hidden in the Swiss Alps, Rose met the man behind the shadow network.
Or rather—his voice.
"You've made noise, Ms. DeLuca," the voice crackled through the speakers, masked but deep. "I like noise. But I prefer impact."
"I have both," she replied, sitting with her legs crossed and chin high.
"You gave me the ledger," Killian Rizzo continued. "And for that, I'm giving you protection. But if you want Lorenzo out of power completely—you'll need more than exposés."
"I want his legacy erased," Rose said flatly. "Not just ruined. Forgotten."
There was a pause.
"Then you'll need to destroy what built it. Piece by piece."
Rose returned to Milan with a plan. The ledger was only step one.
Step two? Turn the people against him.
She started leaking confidential audio tapes—conversations between Lorenzo and foreign suppliers, scandalous voice notes of him laughing about "disposing" of girls that didn't sell.
She launched a fake charity under his name, funneling donations to actual survivors of trafficking.
Soon, the victims started speaking out. Anonymous interviews. Voice-changed confessions. One by one, they described hell—and the man who hosted it.
Lorenzo's family begged him to disappear from public view. The press haunted him. Protestors gathered at every event.
But even as he crumbled, Rose knew she wasn't done.
There was still the vault.
The final Red Ledger.
Cassian had told her about it—an underground data room buried beneath one of the Mancini warehouses. Hard drives, blackmail folders, names of the truly untouchable. If she got that, she wouldn't just destroy Lorenzo.
She'd take down every last corrupt bastard who backed him.
But it was risky. The vault was rumored to be guarded by ex-military and biometric security. Cassian warned her.
"You sure you want to go that far?"
Rose just looked at him.
"I didn't fake my death for a half-finished story."
Cassian nodded. "Then I'll be your getaway car."
Midnight.
Black outfit. Silent steps. Cassian drove while his private team handled the outside surveillance.
Inside the warehouse, Rose moved like she'd done it before. Maybe in a past life. Or maybe trauma sharpened her instincts.
She found the vault.
Three locks.
Fingerprint. Retina. Voice.
Cassian handled the tech. Rose handled the courage.
And when the last door clicked open—
There it was.
The Mancini empire. In data form. Years of lies. Names, faces, dates. Even government officials listed with price tags.
Rose didn't waste time. She took photos. Copied files. And as the alarm system started to react, Cassian grabbed her hand and they ran.
But she had what she came for.
The final piece.
The Red Ledger.
And as the warehouse burned behind them—she smiled.
Because from here on, it wasn't just about payback.
It was about power.