CHAPTER 1

The air smelled the same. A mix of salt from the sea, gasoline from the endless scooters weaving through traffic, and the unmistakable scent of old stone kissed by centuries of history. But Naples had changed. It always did. Cities like this were alive—breathing, growing, decaying, and rebuilding themselves.

Sasha stepped off the plane, her heels clicking against the polished floor of Capodichino Airport, her presence commanding attention like an unspoken storm. She walked slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every moment of her return. To anyone watching, she was just another stunning woman passing through—a vision of impossible perfection. But she knew better.

Sasha had come home to destroy a man.

She adjusted the sunglasses perched on her nose, a classic black frame shielding the one thing that had not changed—her eyes. Blushish-green, veined with golden flecks that turned hazel under certain lights. The same eyes Matteo once swore he could never forget.

Clearly, he had.

The Sasha he knew was dead. The short-haired, naïve girl who once clung to his every word was buried beneath a woman sculpted by vengeance. She had rebuilt herself, bone by bone, inch by inch.

Her skin, once merely soft, now gleamed like poured cream—pure, flawless, kissed by just enough warmth to glow under streetlights. Her lips, thick and plump, curled into a smirk as she imagined Matteo's face when he realized who she was. Would he recognize the full curve of her hips? The perfect slope of her breasts? Or would he only see the striking goddess she had become—an untouchable fantasy draped in silk?

Let him wonder. Let him sweat. Let him drown.

Naples stretched out before her like an old lover, its streets winding like veins, its heart still beating with the chaos she remembered. But there were cracks now—tiny fractures in the empire Matteo had spent years perfecting. The towering buildings of his dominion, once untouchable, now bore subtle signs of weakness. A club that used to overflow with wealth now had a flickering neon sign. A restaurant that was once impossible to book now had empty tables. The underworld she had once been a shadow in had changed, and she needed to know how deep the rot had spread.

To an outsider, she was just another beautiful woman stepping into the lap of luxury—draped in an expensive, body-hugging ensemble that left no doubt about the perfection of her figure. But beauty was only the bait. The true weapon was the mind beneath.

She reached the waiting car, where a man in a tailored suit opened the door for her. She didn't acknowledge him. She didn't need to. They knew who they worked for.

Inside, the leather seat molded to her body as she crossed her legs with effortless grace. The door shut with a quiet thunk, sealing her inside a cocoon of cool air and quiet control.

"Take me to the estate," she murmured.

The driver obeyed without question.

Through the tinted windows, Naples stretched out before her, familiar yet foreign. The towering buildings, the grand piazzas, the narrow streets that pulsed with life. It was still beautiful, still powerful—but the cracks were there. Tiny fractures in an empire that once stood untouchable.

Matteo's empire.

Once, she had walked these streets as a ghost, unseen and underestimated. Now, she returned as something else entirely.

A storm. A reckoning.

Her fingers tapped lightly against her thigh, her expression unreadable. The city didn't know it yet, but Sasha was back. And she hadn't come to forgive.

She had come to burn it all down.