A Future of Her Own Making

The flames of Ravelle House had burned long into the night, reducing the last remnants of the Order's ruling elite to nothing but ash.

By morning, the estate was silent, the weight of centuries-old power buried beneath the rubble.

And yet—Ariella felt no peace.

She had won.

She had destroyed the machine that had erased her family, stolen her name, and threatened her child.

But something inside her still whispered—

What comes next?

Aftermath and Echoes of War

Leo watched her carefully as she stood at the edge of the destruction, her arms crossed over her chest.

"You're thinking too much again," he murmured, stepping beside her.

Ariella let out a breath. "You keep saying that."

"Because it's always true."

Ariella's gaze flicked to him. "I thought burning the Order would feel… final."

Leo's jaw tightened. "Power never disappears, Ariella. It shifts."

And that was what unsettled her the most.

They had destroyed this part of the Order, but what if—

Somewhere out there, another faction was already rising to take its place?

Her grip on her arms tightened.

She wouldn't let that happen.

Not while she had breath left in her body.

The team returned to the Devereux estate, where Vincent and Carter had already begun securing their assets, erasing any remaining loose ends.

Carter leaned against the long dining table, scanning a tablet. "Financial records are clean. Offshore accounts transferred. Whatever remains of the Order's funds is now in your hands."

Vincent grinned. "Congratulations, darling. You've officially stolen an empire."

Ariella smirked. "Good. They owed me."

Leo sat beside her, stretching out. "So, what now?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

For so long, Ariella had been fighting, running, surviving.

Now, for the first time, she had no one to fight.

No enemy lurking in the shadows.

No war to prepare for.

So why did it feel so foreign?

That evening, Ariella found herself in Eleanor's nursery, watching her daughter sleep.

Soft moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the tiny, peaceful form in the crib.

Ariella traced her fingers over the locket Vincent had given her, now holding a picture of Eleanor inside.

She had spent her whole life fighting ghosts.

Now, she was holding the future in her hands.

Leo leaned against the doorway, his voice softer than usual. "She looks like you when she sleeps."

Ariella smiled faintly. "I hope she never has to wake up to the same world I did."

Leo stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. "She won't."

Ariella exhaled. "We've burned everything that tied us to the past. But what if there's still something out there? What if—"

Leo tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Then we deal with it. But you don't have to keep looking over your shoulder, Ariella. You can live now."

Live.

The word felt… strange.

But for the first time, she was ready to try.

Ghosts That Won't Stay Buried

Two weeks passed in an eerie sort of calm.

Carter handled security reinforcements.

Vincent diverted attention away from them, spreading misinformation about what really happened to the Order.

Leo stayed by Ariella's side, helping her navigate this strange new world where she wasn't a hunted woman anymore.

Then—

The first threat arrived.

A small, unmarked package, delivered to the estate with no return address.

Ariella opened it without hesitation, ignoring Leo's curse.

Inside was a single sheet of paper, covered in numbers, symbols, and a name.

One name.

Dante Marchesi.

Ariella's pulse spiked.

Vincent let out a low whistle. "Well. Looks like the devil isn't dead after all"

Leo tensed beside her. "Marchesi was supposed to be eliminated years ago."

Carter crossed his arms. "The fact that his name is here now? That means someone wants you to know he's still alive."

Ariella's grip on the letter tightened.

Dante Marchesi was a name she hadn't heard in years—one that even the Order had feared.

And if he was back in play?

Then her war wasn't over.

It had just shifted into something far worse.

A New Enemy, A New Battle

That night, Ariella sat alone in the study, staring at the message.

Leo entered, watching her carefully. "Talk to me."

Ariella exhaled. "Dante Marchesi was the Order's insurance policy. He was their nuclear option—the man they'd call if things went wrong."

Leo sat across from her, his face unreadable. "And now he knows the Order is gone."

Ariella nodded. "Which means he's coming."

Leo studied her. "You don't have to do this alone."

Ariella's smirk was sharp. "I never do."

Because if Dante thought he could rise from the shadows and claim what was left of the Order—

He was about to learn the hard way that Ariella Devereux wasn't a queen to be challenged.

The Decision to Strike First

Carter and Vincent joined them moments later, their expressions already hard, focused.

Carter tapped the encrypted data drive. "I've been digging. Marchesi's been moving in silence, but he's not hiding."

Vincent grinned. "Then we crash his party."

Ariella's eyes darkened. "Exactly."

Leo leaned back, arms crossed. "If we move now, we hit him before he builds an empire."

Ariella's pulse steadied.

Marchesi was expecting time.

He was expecting her to play defense.

Instead, she was going straight for his throat.

Because she had burned the Order to the ground.

And now?

She was coming for whoever dared to rise from its ashes.

The decision was made.

By sunrise, Ariella's team had a location—a private compound on the Amalfi Coast, where Marchesi had been hiding.

Vincent tossed his knife in the air. "Italy, huh? I do love a good vacation murder."

Leo smirked. "No loose ends this time."

Carter exhaled. "Agreed. We take him out before he even knows we're coming."

Ariella nodded.

This wasn't just about ending a threat.

It was about erasing a legacy that should have died with the Order.

And this time?

She wasn't playing by the rules.

A New War Begins

As the private jet soared over the ocean, Ariella stared out the window, her reflection mirroring the woman she had become.

This wasn't about revenge anymore.

This was about control.

Power.

And ensuring that no one ever threatened her family again.

Leo's voice was steady beside her. "You ready for this?"

Ariella smirked, checking the gun strapped to her thigh.

"I was born ready."

Because Dante Marchesi thought he was the new king.

But Ariella Devereux was about to remind him who truly ruled this game.