CHAPTER 14

Matteo's empire was vast. Impenetrable. Unshakable.

Or at least, it had been.

Now?

It was shifting.

Not in a way that could be traced. Not in ways that could be easily fixed.

No, this wasn't a storm crashing through his empire. It wasn't an explosion.

It was something slower.

Something rotting.

And Matteo was at the center of it.

He felt it. He knew it.

The problem was, he didn't know why.

Or how.

Or who.

There was only one thing that never faltered.

His assistant.

"Your PA handled it, Boss."

"She said you signed off on it."

"She has everything under control."

Always her.

And yet—he had never seen her.

Matteo was a man who demanded control, who commanded presence, who knew the faces of every important person in his organization.

And yet…

Not her.

Sasha existed in the background, a name attached to perfection. A voice through intermediaries. A ghost in his empire.

And the most infuriating part?

She never made mistakes.

While Matteo was spiraling—his anger, his frustration, his absolute confusion mounting—she remained calm.

Untouched. Unbothered. Professional.

Every time he slammed his fist on the table? She responded with a carefully worded email.

Every time he lost his temper in a meeting? She sent out a detailed action plan to fix the issue.

Every time he questioned a report? She had already fact-checked it, making him look paranoid.

He was the one losing control.

And everyone was starting to notice.

It started in hushed conversations.

Nothing loud. Nothing obvious.

Just small, passing remarks, like embers waiting to become a wildfire.

"Boss has been slipping a lot lately."

"Did you hear about the contract he forgot to send?"

"He lost another deal. That's not like him, right?"

"Maybe he's got too much on his plate."

"Maybe he's just… not as sharp as he used to be."

No one said it directly.

Not yet.

But the doubt?

It was spreading.

And the worst part?

Matteo could feel it.

The subtle shift in how his men looked at him.

The hesitations before answering his questions.

The way they spoke to him slower, more carefully.

Like he was fragile.

Like they pitied him.

Sasha watched it all unfold from a distance.

She didn't have to lift a finger. Not anymore.

The system was already in place.

The cracks were widening.

She had built the stage, set the trap, and let him walk into it.

And Matteo?

He was already halfway to falling.

All she had to do… was wait.