The man's screams still echoed faintly in Elena's memory as they stepped back into the upper level of the house.
Luca dismissed his men with a single glance.
The door shut behind them.
Silence returned.
But it was no longer the calm silence of wealth.
It was the silence that followed the drawing of invisible battle lines.
Alessandro remained near the window, his posture rigid, gaze distant.
Thinking.
Calculating.
For the first time since she had known him, he looked like a man adjusting to unexpected variables.
"Titus Morelli," Luca said at last. "Tell me why a dead man is suddenly interested in your former wife."
Alessandro did not answer immediately.
Elena watched the tension gather along his shoulders.
"He was not simply an enemy," Alessandro said finally.
"He was the only man who ever came close to dismantling my empire."
The words settled heavily into the room.
"And you believed he died?" Luca asked.
"I watched the car burn."
Something cold moved down Elena's spine.
"You never found a body?" she asked.
"No."
The admission hung in the air.
Luca's voice lowered.
"A mistake."
"Yes."
Alessandro turned then, his gaze landing fully on Elena.
"If Morelli is alive, then everything that has happened to you was engineered."
The certainty in his tone felt different now.
Less accusation.
More realization.
Too late, a quiet voice whispered inside her.
Always too late.
"You accused me without proof," she said.
His jaw tightened.
"I had proof."
"Fabricated proof," Luca corrected calmly.
Alessandro ignored him.
But something darker flickered behind his eyes.
Doubt.
The first crack.
"You should have come to me," he said.
Elena almost laughed.
"You handed me divorce papers, Alessandro."
A silence stretched between them.
Then he said quietly, "And yet you signed them too easily."
There it was again.
That unsettling awareness.
As though her composure had disturbed him more than tears ever could have.
"I will not beg for a place in a life where I am not trusted."
Something in his expression shifted.
Small.
Dangerous.
"You were always trusted."
The lie was so effortless it almost impressed her.
Before she could respond, Luca stepped closer to the table and poured himself a drink.
He did not offer one to Alessandro.
The omission was deliberate.
"We are wasting time," Luca said. "If Morelli is moving, he will not stop at one attempt."
"He will not get another," Alessandro replied coldly.
The two men looked at each other.
Not rivals at that moment.
Generals.
Elena felt it then.
The air of approaching war.
"Why remove me first?" she asked quietly.
Both men turned toward her.
"If Morelli wanted to hurt you," she continued, "killing me while I was still married to you would have been far more devastating."
A pause followed.
Then Luca's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Unless," he said, "you were never the target."
The room stilled.
Alessandro's voice dropped.
"Explain."
"If she died as your wife, it becomes personal. You retaliate immediately."
Luca's eyes moved back to Elena.
"But if she is isolated first… divorced… unprotected…"
Understanding unfolded slowly.
"She becomes easier to erase," Alessandro finished.
Not grief in his voice.
Strategy.
Always strategy.
Elena felt something unfamiliar then.
Not fear.
Awareness.
She had not simply been discarded.
She had been repositioned.
"What could I possibly know that makes me this dangerous?" she asked.
No one answered.
The silence itself was an answer.
Something.
Somewhere.
Hidden inside the life she thought she understood.
Alessandro stepped closer.
Without thinking, Luca shifted half a step toward her.
The movement was subtle.
Instinctive.
Alessandro noticed.
Of course he did.
His gaze dropped briefly to the space between them before returning to her face.
"You are coming under my protection again," he said.
"No," Luca replied immediately.
Elena exhaled slowly.
"I am standing right here."
Neither man looked away from the other.
"I will decide who protects me."
Alessandro's eyes softened a fraction.
"You always did prefer the illusion of independence."
The comment slid under her skin like a blade.
Before she could respond, Luca spoke.
"She is not an illusion, Alessandro. She is the variable you failed to calculate."
A long silence followed.
Then Alessandro said something that shifted the ground beneath them.
"There is something you should know."
Elena held his gaze.
"What?"
"I never finalized the divorce."
The words struck like quiet thunder.
"You signed it," she said slowly.
"Yes."
"But the court has not processed it."
Her pulse faltered.
"You told me it was done."
"I told you it would be."
Understanding crept in.
Cold.
Precise.
"You were keeping a door open," Luca said softly.
Alessandro did not deny it.
Elena stared at him.
"Why?"
For the first time since she had met him, Alessandro hesitated.
Only a second.
But she saw it.
"You were never meant to leave," he said.
The confession settled heavily into her chest.
Not tender.
Not romantic.
Possessive.
Strategic.
Dangerous.
"And yet," Luca said quietly, "she did."
Their eyes locked again.
A silent challenge.
Elena felt something shift deep inside her then.
For years, she had existed inside Alessandro's world.
Orbiting his gravity.
But now another force has entered the equation.
And for the first time…
the balance of power was no longer his alone.
Outside, thunder rolled faintly across the Roman sky.
A storm was coming.
Elena felt it with absolute certainty.
Not just in the weather.
In the war waking beneath the surface of everything she thought she knew.
And somewhere in that storm…
was the truth about who she really was to these men.
A liability.
A weapon.
Or something far more dangerous.