Vito’s eyes softened, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his usually stoic demeanor.

“Because I care about you, Celia. More than I ever should have.”

The room seemed smaller, the walls pressing in as Vito’s confession echoed in my mind. He cared about me. More than he ever should have. But could I believe him?

“You expect me to trust you now?” I said, my voice sharp despite the lump in my throat. “After years of lies and watching Marco betray me?”

Vito sighed. “I know you don’t trust me, Celia. But if I wanted to hurt you, I could’ve stayed quiet and let Marco destroy you.”

His words cut deeper than I cared to admit. “So what now? You tell me my marriage was a lie, Marco chose someone else, and I’m just supposed to thank you?”

“No,” he said quietly. “You’re supposed to take back what’s yours.”

I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Vito stepped closer, his voice dangerous. “Marco didn’t just betray you. He stole from you—your love, your trust, your future—and handed it to Victoria. He used you to build his empire, and now he thinks he can walk away scot-free.”

I swallowed. “And what do you expect me to do about it?”

“You don’t have to let him win,” Vito said. “Everything Marco has, he got because of you. The Moretti empire wouldn’t exist without your family’s name. Now, he’s cutting you out like you’re nothing.”

“I don’t care about his money or empire,” I said. “I just want to be free of him!”

“Do you?” Vito challenged. “Or do you want to make him pay for every lie, every broken promise?”

His question hung in the air. I hesitated, the idea both terrifying and strangely exhilarating.

“You don’t understand,” I said, “I’m not like Marco. I’m not…”

“You don’t have to be like him to beat him. You just have to want it.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Why do you care?”

Vito hesitated, then spoke, his voice steady. “Because Marco doesn’t deserve to win. He thinks he’s erased you, but he’s wrong. You can take back what’s yours—your power, your dignity. You can make him regret everything.”

His words wrapped around me like a vice. The thought of Marco—his betrayal—sent a fresh wave of anger through me.

“Even if I wanted to do something,” I whispered, “how? What could I possibly do to hurt him?!”

“I’m offering you a choice,” Vito said smoothly. “You can let Marco decide your fate, or you can take control of it yourself.”

“This is just the beginning, Celia. With my help, you can rebuild your life—but not as Marco’s discarded wife. As the woman who destroyed him.”

I stared at him. The old Celia would have walked away. But she was gone.

“Revenge, Celia. Revenge…” Vito said.

“I’m in,” I said, the words tasting like poison—and power.

Vito’s smile was sharp, predatory. “Good. Let’s make him pay.”

I leaned forward, my heart pounding in my chest. “How?” I whispered, my voice barely a breath.

Vito’s gaze locked onto mine, dark and calculating. “In ways Marco never saw coming. He won’t even know what hit him.”

A chill ran down my spine, and I felt my pulse quicken. The weight of the moment pressed down on me, the stakes rising higher.

Vito’s expression softened for just a moment, and then his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Marry me, Celia.”

The words struck me like a thunderclap, and my breath caught in my throat. I stared at him, stunned, unsure if I had heard him right.

Vito leaned in closer, his gaze unwavering. “Marry me, and we’ll burn Marco’s world to the ground together.”

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. My heart raced as I struggled to comprehend what he was asking.

His words hung in the air, heavy with promise and purpose. He didn’t say it with desperation, but with certainty—like he believed it would complete the plan. Like he knew this was the next step.

I froze, the world around me fading. Marry him? I wanted revenge, but this? This felt like another layer to the plan—one that could truly send a message to Marco.

“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice tinged with skepticism. “You’re his right-hand man. I can’t believe you’d actually want this.”

Vito nodded, unflinching. “Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “I’m offering this because it will change everything. It will make Marco understand that you can replace him, that you can rebuild your life without him.”

I hesitated, the thought weighing heavily on me. If Vito, the man trusted by Marco, was offering me this, it couldn’t be a coincidence. It felt like the ultimate trap, the ultimate plan to show Marco that I could easily replace him.

“You think this will make Marco regret it?” I asked, my voice tinged with doubt.

“It will,” Vito replied, his eyes steady, filled with a quiet intensity. “Because once Marco sees you with me, he’ll realize he never had a hold on you. Not really.”

His words felt both enticing and dangerous.

“Let’s make him regret it.” Vito convinced.

I stared at Vito, disbelief and anger swirling inside me. His proposal had hit me like a lightning bolt, but somehow, I knew there was no turning back. Not after everything that had happened. Not after Marco’s betrayal.

"I'll do it," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. The words tasted like poison on my tongue, but they were the only ones I could think of.

Vito’s lips curled into a slow, almost predatory smile. “Good. You’re making the right choice.”

Without another word, he stepped forward, closing the distance between us. The air in the room seemed to shift, crackling with an energy I hadn't expected. His hands cupped my face, so gentle yet both familiar and foreign. His thumb ran over my lower lip once, and I felt a sudden shiver down my spine.

And then, in a single, daring stroke, he kissed me.

I froze at first, every fiber of my being rebelling against the kiss. Then something in me snapped. Anger. Hatred. All the emotions I had bottled up for years, all directed at Marco—the man who had used me, betrayed me—I let the kiss happen.

I kissed him back.

For a moment, the world blurred and I let go of everything: my past, my anger, my heartache—everything but the taste of vengeance. But it was momentary. I pulled away, gasping, my heart hammering in my chest. Vito's eyes locked onto mine, his expression unreadable.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

The drive was quiet, the night pressing in around us as we sped through the dark streets. The city lights blurred by in a blur, but I could not focus on anything else than the tension in the air. I was leaving behind everything: my marriage, my life with Marco, everything I thought I knew. I was heading into the unknown.

“What’s next, Vito?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“You’ll see soon enough,” he replied, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

My heart was racing, every nerve in my body alert. I knew Vito was leading me somewhere, but to where? I couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was coming.

And as the minutes ticked by, we finally left the city behind, the familiar skyline disappearing into the rearview mirror.

After what felt like an eternity, Vito's car slowed, and we turned down a narrow road, leading into a secluded area. The trees grew denser, the night darker.

My pulse quickened. What was going on? Where were we going?

Vito didn't respond. He just pulled up to a large, imposing gate. It looked out of place here, standing tall and unforgiving in the middle of nowhere.

I watched in silence as he pressed a button on the dashboard; the gates slowly creaked open. My heart skipped a beat.

We drove through, the road getting narrower, until we reached a huge building hidden in the shadows of the trees. It looked like a fortress, every window dark, every corner sharp.

“Who owns this place?” I asked, my voice shaking despite myself.

Vito’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

A shiver ran down my spine. My instincts screamed at me to turn back, but I couldn't. I wouldn't.

We pulled up in front of the huge stone stairs leading into the building, and as Vito shut off the engine, my door swung open.

“Come on, Celia” he said.

I hesitated for just a moment, and then I followed him into the cold, quiet air, the sound of our footsteps echoing.

As we ascended the steps and entered the building, I felt as if I had stepped into another world. The kind of world I had never known—and never expected.

Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Men in dark suits were standing in the main room, their faces unreadable. They looked like they were waiting for something.

And then, as my eyes scanned the room, I saw them.

The Viper Group.

My breath caught in my throat, my legs going weak beneath me.

The Viper Group. Marco's rival. The one he had battled for years. The group that no one crossed without paying a price. And now, here I was, in their midst, with no idea what I had just walked into.

Vito stepped forward, his presence commanding, and I followed, though every part of me screamed to run.

“You must be Celia Moretti,” a voice said from the shadows, cutting through the room.

My heart skipped a beat as the man stepped into the light. His face was cold, calculating, but there was something in his eyes that made my blood run cold.

"Welcome," he said, his smile icy. "We've been expecting you."

And in that moment, my heart raced. What had I just gotten myself into?

I hesitated at the threshold, my heart pounding in my chest.The members of the Viper Group dominated the room, their sharp suits and colder gazes slicing through the air. My throat tightened as I tried to speak, but the words stuck.

Vito leaned in close, his breath brushing against my ear. “Be nice to them. First impressions matter,” he whispered.

I glanced at him, startled by his calm. How was he so composed? Every instinct screamed at me to turn and run, but Vito’s presence beside me steadied me, his words carrying a weight I couldn’t ignore.

Swallowing hard, I stepped forward. “It’s an honor to meet you all,” I finally managed, my voice shaking.

The man who’d spoken earlier—standing at the center—chuckled softly. “An honor? Interesting choice of words, Mrs. Moretti.” His gaze swept over me, calculating.

“Celia,” Vito corrected, his voice steady but firm.

The man raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking sharply against the marble floor. “Vito’s spoken highly of you. Says you’re… resourceful.”

I stole a quick glance at Vito, unsure of what to say. He gave me a small nod, his face unreadable.

“I hope I can live up to his words,” I said, cautiously.

The man’s lips twisted into a smirk, cold and unfriendly. “We’ll see.”

The tension in the room thickened. Another man, standing with his arms crossed, fixed me with a sharp, piercing look. “Do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Celia?”

Before I could answer, Vito spoke, his tone unwavering. “She knows enough. And she’s ready.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I nodded anyway, letting his confidence carry me.

The first man gave a curt nod. “Let’s not waste time,” he said, his voice cold and final. “Follow me.”

He turned sharply, leading us deeper into the fortress-like building. The dimly lit corridors stretched ahead, and with every step, my pulse raced faster.

Vito stayed close, his hand brushing my lower back in a subtle gesture of reassurance—or, perhaps to keep me from faltering.

We entered a sleek conference room, the long table bathed in stark, unflinching light. The other members of the Viper Group entered quietly, their movements deliberate, almost predatory.

The man who’d spoken earlier took a seat at the head of the table and gestured for me to sit across from him. Vito stood behind me, his presence solid and grounding.

“So,” the man began, leaning forward. “Do you have what it takes to bring Marco Moretti to his knees?”

My breath hitched, but before I could speak, Vito’s hand landed lightly on my shoulder. “She does,” he said, his voice firm.

The man’s gaze held mine, calculating, searching for something—weakness, resolve, I wasn’t sure. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

The sound of a phone buzzing cut through the tension. Vito straightened and pulled his phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen before excusing himself and stepping out of the room.

My eyes followed him, my stomach twisting with unease.

The room’s attention shifted back to me, but my thoughts stayed on Vito. I needed him here with me, his steadiness anchoring me.

In the hallway, Vito answered the call. His voice is low but steady. “Yes?”

A woman’s voice crackled through the receiver. “The plan’s working. He took the bait.”

Vito’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Good. Stay on him. We’ll move to the next phase soon.”

There was a pause before she spoke again. “And Celia?”

“She’s in,” Vito replied, his voice unwavering. “She’ll do what needs to be done.”

The call ended, and Vito returned to the room, that same predatory smile tugging at his lips.

Something about the conversation gnawed at me. I made my way over to him, heels clicking sharply on the marble.

“Who were you talking to?” I asked, my voice was more confident than I expected.

Vito looked at me with a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes as he slipped his phone into his pocket. “What’s this? Jealous already?” he teased, his tone light, almost mocking.

I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes. “I’m serious. I heard you talking about me. And something about a plan.”

He chuckled, low and rich, but the sound only made my nerves tighten. “Relax, Celia. It was just my sister. She worries too much, that’s all.”

I frowned, unconvinced. “Your sister? Then why did I hear you mention my name? And what plan were you talking about?”

His expression shifted, amusement turning into something sharper, though his smirk never wavered. “You’ve got good ears,” he said, stepping closer.

I didn’t back down. “Stop deflecting, Vito. If I’m going to be part of this, I need to know what’s really going on, Vito.”

“You know I trust you so please don’t make me doubt,” I added.