Legacy in the Dark

That night, Emilia couldn't sleep.

She wandered the penthouse alone, her bare feet quiet on the marble floors, her mind racing with everything she'd learned — and everything still hidden. The file Alessandro had given her lay untouched on the dining table, but the headlines burned deeper than any document ever could.

Victor Blake — her father.

Alessandro Moretti — his greatest enemy.

And her? The pawn caught in between.

She paused in the hallway, drawn to a door she hadn't entered before. It was slightly ajar — the only door that hadn't been locked.

Inside: darkness. No lights. Just the faint glint of moonlight against steel and glass.

It was a study. Or more accurately, a vault.

Weapons lined the walls in neat, gleaming rows. Old photos framed in black. News clippings, burnt edges, names circled in red ink. Maps. Ledgers. A shrine to power and revenge.

And in the center — a photograph in a cracked frame.

Three men. Young. Cold eyes. Dark suits. Alessandro on the left. A man she didn't recognize on the right.

And in the middle…

Her father.

Victor Blake.

Younger. Alive. Smiling — barely.

She stepped back, breath caught in her throat, until she hit something solid.

Alessandro.

He'd followed her.

"I told you not to go into this room," he said, voice low, unreadable.

"You didn't lock it."

"Because I wanted to see if you would."

She turned to face him, hands shaking. "What is this? A trophy wall?"

"No," he said. "It's a reminder. Of what I've lost. And what I'll never forget."

She stepped toward the photo, her finger hovering over her father's image. "You hated him."

"I still do."

"Then why didn't you kill me the moment you found out I was his daughter?"

Alessandro moved closer, close enough to feel the heat of his breath.

"Because you're not him," he said simply. "And because I'm not the same man I was when I made that vow."

Her chest ached — from fear, confusion… and something that felt too much like longing.

She whispered, "Do you regret saving me that night?"

He didn't blink. "Every day."

Then, softer:

"But not for the reason you think."

And just like that… she didn't know whether to run from him or fall deeper into the fire.