CHAPTER 19

A man like Matteo didn't crumble in a day. His downfall had to be orchestrated with precision. A subtle shift in power. A hesitation where there should be confidence. A lingering glance between men who once trusted each other with their lives.

And Sasha was the ghost pulling the strings.

She sat in her sleek, dimly lit office, legs crossed, sipping on a glass of red wine as she watched the slow disintegration of Matteo's empire through multiple live feeds.

Matteo's men were unraveling. And tonight, she was about to set another fire.

Matteo's two most trusted men, Luca and Enzo, stood in the underground lounge of his estate, their voices clipped and tense. Whiskey glasses in hand, their usual camaraderie was replaced with unease.

"I don't understand how this keeps happening," Luca muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "We were untouchable six months ago. Now, deals are collapsing left and right."

Enzo exhaled sharply, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "That's not a coincidence, Luca. Someone is feeding us bad intel. Or worse—someone inside is playing us."

Sasha smiled. There it was. The first real fracture.

She had spent weeks weaving a delicate web of chaos:

A misfiled contract here.

A delayed shipment there.

A mysterious competitor outbidding them at the last second.

Just enough to shake their faith. Just enough to make them question the one thing Matteo's empire was built on—loyalty.

Enzo leaned in, voice lower now. "Tell me something. When was the last time Matteo actually got his hands dirty?"

Luca frowned. "What the hell are you implying?"

Enzo held his gaze. "I'm saying, maybe Matteo isn't as sharp as he used to be. Maybe he's the weak link."

Sasha laughed softly, swirling her wine. Men were so predictable.

Matteo sat alone in his office, jaw tight, whiskey untouched on his desk. A storm raged in his chest.

Something was wrong.

For months now, his empire had been bleeding—slow, precise cuts in places he once considered impenetrable.

A botched arms deal that should have been airtight.

A shipment rerouted, costing him millions.

His own men looking at him like he was slipping.

And Matteo?

He never slipped.

He was losing his grip, and he could feel it in his bones.

His men were whispering. His name, once spoken with unshakable respect, was now followed by uncertain silence.

And worst of all?

He had no idea who was behind it.

Sasha leaned back in her chair, the glow from her monitors illuminating her sharp features. She had him exactly where she wanted him—paranoid, uncertain, questioning the very foundation he had built.

But as she watched him on the security feed—his broad shoulders tense, his fingers running through his dark hair, his expression unreadable—

That old ache in her chest stirred.

Matteo wasn't just a target.

He had once been her world.

The first man she ever loved. The only man who ever broke her.

She had spent years building herself into someone unrecognizable. Someone untouchable.

And yet…

As she watched him now, she hated that she could still recognize the man beneath the monster.

Sasha gritted her teeth.

This is what he deserves.

But then why did it feel like every victory came at a cost she hadn't calculated?

Downstairs, Enzo and Luca were still locked in quiet debate, the weight of doubt thick between them.

And Matteo?

Matteo was finally looking over his empire and realizing—

The cracks weren't just in the walls.

They were in the foundation.

And if he didn't find the enemy soon, his kingdom was going to burn.

Sasha took one last sip of her wine, closing her laptop.

Let him drown.