Elena POV：
The silence in the dining room was a physical weight, suffocating enough to crush a lung.
Three days had passed since I returned home.
My father was furious about the failed alliance, but he lacked the leverage to force me back to Dante just yet. The story of Dante and the "maid" in the bridal suite had leaked to the gossip columns, painting the Vitiello name in a shade of humiliation he couldn't ignore.
I suspected Matteo had something to do with that.
But Dante wasn't giving up.
Tonight, he had forced a "reconciliation dinner."
And he had brought a guest.
Sofia sat across from me.
She was wearing a modest white dress that was a transparent attempt at cosplaying innocence. She kept resting a protective hand on her flat stomach, casting wide, doe-like glances at Dante.
"Elena," Dante said, cutting his steak with aggressive force, the knife screeching against the china. "Sofia is here to apologize. She feels terrible about the... misunderstanding."
Sofia looked up, her bottom lip trembling on cue. "I didn't know he was engaged. I swear."
Liar. In my past life, this woman had stalked me with the dedication of a predator.
"It's fine," I said, lifting my crystal goblet for a calm sip of water. "I don't blame the dog for eating the steak left on the floor. I blame the owner for not training it."
Sofia gasped, a theatrical sound.
Dante slammed his fork down.
"She is not a dog, Elena. She is a guest."
"She is your mistress," I corrected, my voice bored. "And you brought her to my mother's table."
My father cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze as he stared at his plate. "Elena, be civil. Dante is trying to make amends."
"By bringing his whore to dinner?" I looked at my father, watching him shrink into his chair. "Is our family name worth so little to you?"
My father looked away. He was weak. The Vitiello family was crumbling, debts piling up, and his spine had snapped under the weight of it. He needed Dante's money more than he needed his dignity.
Sofia let out a small sob.
"I'm sorry," she wept, dabbing at dry eyes. "I'm just... so emotional lately."
Dante put a protective hand on her shoulder, glaring at me.
"She's fragile, Elena."
I looked at Luca.
My brother was staring at Dante with pure disgust.
In my last life, Luca had been loyal to the family above all else. But seeing Dante parade his mistress in our home, disrespecting me so openly... it was cracking his loyalty foundation.
I stood up, my napkin dropping to the table.
"Excuse me," I said. "I've lost my appetite."
I walked out of the dining room without looking back.
I went straight to the library, knowing Luca would follow.
He did.
Two minutes later, he slipped into the room, closing the heavy oak door behind him and sealing us in the quiet dark.
"You pushed him too hard," Luca said quietly, pacing the rug. "Father is going to force the wedding next week just to stop the bleeding."
"I won't marry him, Luca."
"You don't have a choice," he said, rubbing his face exhaustedly. "We need the Genovese protection. The Outfit is encroaching on the docks."
"The Outfit isn't the enemy," I stated.
Luca looked at me like I was crazy. "Matteo Moretti is a butcher. He'd kill us all without blinking."
"He hasn't killed me," I said softly.
Luca paused. He looked at the bruise on my neck, which was fading to a sickly yellow-a souvenir from Dante, not Matteo.
"Elena... that mark. Who gave it to you?"
I walked over to him and took his hands, forcing him to look at me.
"I need you to do something for me, Luca. For the family."
"What?"
"Set up a sit-down," I said. "With Moretti."
Luca yanked his hands away as if burned. "Are you insane? Father would kill me."
"Father is leading us off a cliff," I said, my voice hard. "Dante is stealing from us, Luca. I saw his texts to Sofia. He plans to absorb our territory once we're married and put Father in a home."
It was a lie, technically. I hadn't seen the texts in this timeline. I had lived the reality.
Luca hesitated, conflict warring in his eyes. "Do you have proof?"
"Get me the meeting," I said. "And I will give you the world. I will give you the empire Father is too weak to hold."
"Why Moretti?" Luca asked, his resistance crumbling. "Why him?"
"Because," I said, looking out the window at the dark garden, where the shadows seemed to agree with me. "Sometimes the only way to survive a fire is to let it burn everything down and start over."
Luca stared at me for a long moment, searching for the sister he used to know and finding someone new.
"Tomorrow," he said finally. "I know a guy who knows his Capo. But if this goes south, Elena... we're dead."
"We're already dead," I said. "We just haven't fallen down yet."
