Chapter Three - Pricilla

The night seemed to stretch on forever, the weight of everything that had transpired pressing down on me. I couldn't escape the echo of Anton's words, the cool, unsettling calm in his voice that lingered in my thoughts long after he'd disappeared into the darkness.

I didn't need anyone. I repeated the words in my head like a mantra. But deep down, I knew it wasn't true—not entirely. The truth was, I had always been alone in this world, but now... now things were different. Anton had made sure of that.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I was on the edge of something I wasn't ready for. The question hung in the air, like a storm cloud just waiting to break—how long could I keep playing alone? The truth was, I didn't know.

I paced back and forth in the safehouse, my mind a whirl of conflicting thoughts. My father had put me in charge of this district, given me a task to prove myself. But every second I spent here felt more like a trap. My family's empire, the Moretti legacy, was built on power, on control, on manipulation. But what if I didn't want to be a part of that anymore?

Luca's warning echoed in my mind. Be careful, Miss Pricilla. The Rosenthals won't back down.

No, they wouldn't. Anton's presence alone was proof of that. He wasn't just making moves on our turf—he was invading my life, my space. And I didn't like it.

I stopped pacing, turning my focus back to the task at hand. The maps on the table, the reports, the intel on Rosenthal's movements—these were the things I could control. These were the things I had been trained to handle. I grabbed a pen and began scribbling notes, trying to steady my nerves, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Anton.

I didn't need anyone, I reminded myself again.

The sound of footsteps outside the door pulled me from my thoughts. I straightened, instinctively going for the gun holstered at my side. But then the door opened, and it was just Luca again, his expression more serious than I had seen it all night.

"Miss Pricilla," he began, his voice low, "there's something you need to see."

I glanced at him, eyebrows raised. "What is it?"

Luca didn't speak right away. Instead, he stepped aside, revealing the figure standing just outside the door. My breath caught in my throat as Anton Rosenthal stepped into the room, his eyes locking onto mine with that same unreadable intensity.

I felt a sharp pang in my chest—an instinctual response I hadn't expected, one that took me off guard. I masked it quickly, though, refusing to show any weakness in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I managed to say, my voice steady, even though my heart was pounding.

Anton didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped further into the room, his gaze flickering over the maps on the table, the scattered reports. He was acting as if he had every right to be here, as if he owned the space.

"I didn't expect to find you in here, Pricilla," he said, his voice smooth, almost amused. "But I suppose I should have known better."

I glared at him, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "You've got a lot of nerve showing up here. What do you want?"

Anton's smirk deepened, and for a moment, I could have sworn there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something dangerous, something that made the air between us feel even thicker. "I came to speak with you. You didn't think I'd let you run off without a word, did you?"

I stood my ground, trying to ignore the uneasy flutter in my chest. "If you're here to challenge me, Anton, you're wasting your time."

Anton leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin as he spoke, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You think you're in control, Pricilla. But we both know the truth. You're just as caught in this game as I am."

His words sliced through me, sharper than I had anticipated. I took a step back, my hands tightening into fists at my sides. "You don't know a damn thing about me," I spat, but I could feel my resolve slipping, the ice I had carefully built around myself beginning to crack.

"Oh, but I do," Anton replied, his voice low and dangerous. "I've been watching you, Pricilla. I've been watching you for a long time. You think you can hide behind that cold exterior, but I can see the cracks. I know what you're really afraid of."

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. I could feel the weight of his gaze like a pressure on my chest, threatening to break through the walls I had spent so long building.

"You know nothing about me," I repeated, trying to regain my composure, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me.

Anton smiled, slow and sure. "I'm not here to break you, Pricilla. I'm here to show you that there's more to this world than what your family has forced you to become. You don't have to play by their rules."

I shook my head, but there was a part of me that wanted to believe him. A part of me that was tired of being a pawn in this war, tired of the games, the manipulation, the lies.

"You don't get it," I said, my voice thick with frustration. "I don't have a choice. This is the life I was born into. This is who I am."

Anton's expression softened, just a little, but it was enough to unsettle me. "That's where you're wrong, Pricilla. You have a choice. You just don't know it yet."

I stepped back, breaking our gaze. "Get out," I said, my voice cold. "I've had enough of this. I don't need your pity."

Anton didn't move, didn't leave, just stood there watching me like he knew something I didn't. The silence stretched between us, thick with tension, until finally, he turned, his footsteps echoing in the room as he walked toward the door.

"You're right," he said over his shoulder, his voice barely a whisper. "You don't need me, Pricilla. But sooner or later, you'll realize that you need something more than what your family has given you. And when that time comes... I'll be waiting."

The door closed behind him, and I stood there, alone, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest like a heavy stone.

I didn't need Anton. I didn't need anyone.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere, deep down, I was lying to myself.

And that scared me more than I was willing to admit.

I couldn't shake the feeling that the walls were closing in, even as I moved through the motions of my daily life. The work I had to do—monitoring the Rosenthals, securing the northern district, enforcing our presence—was always there, lurking in the back of my mind. But the more I thought about Anton, the more everything else seemed to fade away. His words. His presence. The way his smirk had lingered in my thoughts long after I'd returned to the safehouse.

I had to focus. I had to stay sharp. This was war, not a game of emotions. Not some misplaced attraction. I wasn't allowed to feel. Not for him. Not for anyone.

The next morning, my phone buzzed at the break of dawn, pulling me from an exhausted sleep. It was a message from Luca: "Meeting tonight. Something's off. Be careful."

I didn't need to be told twice.

The district was rougher than I had anticipated. With the sun low in the sky, the city felt colder than usual. Every shadow stretched longer, every alley deeper. It wasn't safe. It wasn't supposed to be. But that was exactly why I had to be there. My father had a way of making everything feel like a chessboard—every move calculated, every player disposable. I was his most valuable pawn, his only daughter, the one meant to carry on the Moretti name.

I arrived at the meeting point early, as always, making sure the place was secure before anyone else arrived. A dilapidated warehouse tucked away in the heart of the district. It looked harmless enough, but I knew better.

Luca greeted me quietly when he arrived, his usual stoic demeanor now laced with tension.

"Miss Pricilla," he said, his eyes scanning the area. "They're here."

"Who?" I asked, my voice calm, though the tightness in my chest betrayed me.

He didn't need to say it. I knew. I could feel it. The Rosenthals had arrived.

I couldn't let this go on. I couldn't let Anton's intrusion continue without a response. We couldn't show weakness. Not now. Not after what he had dared to pull last night.

"Stay alert," I ordered, the words sounding more like a threat than advice. Luca didn't flinch; he just nodded. We both knew the stakes.

The men filed into the warehouse one by one, their faces shadowed under the dim light, each one carrying their own quiet threat. They knew who I was, they knew my family. And they knew this was about power, about dominance.

And then he appeared. Anton.

Even from a distance, I could see the confidence radiating off of him. He wasn't dressed for a fight. He was dressed to make a statement: A sleek black suit, his hair perfect as always. He was effortlessly poised. And I hated it.

"I didn't expect you to show up," I said, my voice as cold as ice, though inside, my blood was boiling.

Anton smiled, the same dangerous smirk I had seen before. "I thought you'd be disappointed if I didn't," he replied, his voice low, carrying through the room like he had all the time in the world.

"Let's get to it," I said, ignoring the churn in my stomach as I steeled myself. I wasn't about to let him drag this on any longer.

"We're here to discuss terms," Anton said, eyes never leaving mine. "Your family's expansion, our territories. We can't keep pushing back this war of attrition forever."

I crossed my arms, leaning against the wall, but I refused to break eye contact. "You think you have a say in this?" I said, voice dripping with disdain. "This is our turf. Always has been. You're the ones intruding, remember?"

Anton's gaze softened slightly. "We're not here to fight. Not yet. But make no mistake, we will if we have to. You know as well as I do that this is bigger than territory. This is about control. And I don't think your father is as capable of holding onto that as you like to think."

My heart skipped a beat. He was making a direct attack on my father, on the family I had spent my life serving.

"I don't need your advice, Anton," I spat, stepping forward with a sharp edge in my voice.

"And yet here you are, listening," he said smoothly, a chuckle in his tone that made my blood boil. He was provoking me, and part of me wanted to lash out, to throw every insult I had at him.

But that wouldn't work. That would only give him what he wanted: Control. Power.

I turned on my heel, walking toward the men who stood silently, watching us.

"Enough," I said, cutting through the tension. "We're done here for now."

Anton didn't move, his hands casually in his pockets as he took one last look at me. "We'll see each other again, Pricilla," he said, his voice low and ominous. "Sooner than you think."

His words hung in the air like a promise—and I hated that, more than I hated anything else about him. He wasn't just testing me. He was trying to make me think. Makes me question.

I couldn't let him win. Not like this. Not in a way that made me doubt everything I knew.

As Anton and his men left, I stood in the quiet, the dust settling around me. I felt the weight of the situation press down on me, felt the realization that I wasn't in control anymore. Not fully. Anton's influence was creeping into every corner of my world, and I was being dragged into something much darker, much bigger than I had ever anticipated.

Luca came up beside me, his face hard. "What now, Miss Pricilla?"

I didn't respond immediately. I didn't need to say anything. My silence was enough of an answer.

We'd fight back. We'd show them who we were.

But Anton Rosenthal had already planted a seed. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it, it was growing.

As the last of Anton's men disappeared into the night, I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty warehouse. The air was thick with tension, the echo of their footsteps still lingering in my mind. The weight of what had just happened felt like a noose around my neck. We were at the precipice, the lines drawn, but something gnawed at me—something that wasn't just about business, or power, or even the war that was slowly escalating. It was Anton.

I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts. This wasn't the time for weakness. I had a job to do.

Luca shifted beside me, his presence grounding me. "We can't let this slide. It's clear they're testing us. Anton's playing games."

"I know," I muttered. "And he's good at it."

Luca studied me closely, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You're not just talking about business, are you?"

I glared at him, but I didn't answer. Luca knew me too well. He could see through the walls I put up. But I wasn't ready to let him in, not yet. Not when every part of me was screaming to just get rid of him—of Anton, of everything that threatened to unravel what I had spent years building.

"We need to report back," I said, brushing off the question. "I'll deal with the rest later."

Luca didn't press, but I could feel the unspoken questions hanging between us. He wasn't blind. He knew something had changed. And for once, I didn't know how to explain it. Not even to myself.

As we made our way back to the safehouse, the drive was quiet. The only sound was the hum of the engine and the soft tapping of Luca's fingers against the seat.

When we arrived, I went straight to my father's office. The silence that greeted me when I stepped inside felt suffocating, like the room was holding its breath. My father was sitting at his desk, his expression unreadable as always. His sharp eyes never left me as I approached, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on my every movement.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice low and commanding, the slightest edge to it.

I told him everything—the meeting, Anton's words, the underlying tension that I couldn't shake.

When I finished, my father leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his face. "Anton's playing the long game. And I'm sure you know this, but you have to be smarter than him."

I nodded, but I was already thinking beyond his words. He didn't need to tell me what to do. I knew how to handle Anton. The problem was, I wasn't sure I wanted to. Something inside me was cracking, and I couldn't pinpoint when it started. All I knew was that it wasn't just the business anymore. It was personal. And that terrified me.

"Anything else?" my father pressed, his voice cutting through my thoughts.

I hesitated. "He mentioned control. And that you might not be able to hold onto it."

A dangerous glint flickered in my father's eyes. "Anton's underestimating me. He doesn't know what we're capable of."

But there was something in his tone that made me pause. Something… off. I couldn't place it, but I could feel it in my bones.

"I'll handle it," I said, trying to push down the doubt that was beginning to grow inside me. "We'll show him who's in control."

My father's lips curled into a tight smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'd better. I've trusted you with this. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't."

I left his office with a sense of unease settling in my stomach. My father was as cold and calculating as ever, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Maybe it was just the stress of the situation, or maybe I was just overthinking. Either way, I needed to focus. I couldn't afford distractions—not now.

Later that night, after I had finished everything I needed to do, I stood in front of my mirror, staring at my reflection. The girl staring back at me was familiar, but at the same time, I didn't recognize her. She looked strong, unbreakable. But I knew better. Underneath it all, I was still trying to hold onto pieces of myself that were slipping away.

I thought about Anton again. The way he looked at me, the way his presence filled the room with something I couldn't name. The seed he had planted in my mind was growing, and no matter how hard I tried to push it away, I knew it was only a matter of time before it would consume me.

A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.

"Come in," I called out, turning toward the door.

Luca stepped inside, his usual stoic expression replaced with something unreadable. "We've got a problem," he said, his voice tight.

I raised an eyebrow. "What now?"

He handed me a file, and as I took it from him, I saw the words printed in bold, black letters: Rosenthal Activity Report.

I opened it, scanning the contents quickly. The report was filled with details—intelligence on Anton's movements, his plans, and one line that stood out above the rest:

Anton Rosenthal has been making moves to destabilize the Moretti family from within. He's not just targeting our territories. He's targeting you.

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice shaking for the first time in a long time.

Luca nodded. "We need to act quickly, or we'll lose everything."

I dropped the file, my mind racing. Anton wasn't just after control. He was after me.

And I had no idea how to fight this battle.