Chapter 4 - The Widow’s Gambit
For three days, Vittorio moved like a ghost within the hidden, labyrinthine passages built into the walls of his own estate. He and Alessio monitored the villa through a network of hidden cameras that Isabella knew nothing about.
The news had spread like wildfire across Italy. Vittorio Morelli, the King of Naples, killed in a tragic car bombing.
Down in the soundproof wine cellar, Isabella had been locked away in darkness. But Vittorio needed her to play a part. He had Alessio’s men drug her, stage her in her bedroom, and wake her up with the "devastating news" of her husband's demise. She didn't know Alessio was alive; she thought her men had simply failed at the gate, but the car bomb had succeeded anyway.
Isabella played the grieving widow with sickening perfection. She dressed in elegant black silk, wearing a veil that partially covered her face as she welcomed the bosses of the five Sicilian families to the villa.
From the security room behind the library, Vittorio watched the monitors. His jaw tightened as he saw Don Falcone—an old, ruthless man with a face carved from stone—step out of his limousine. Isabella greeted him with an embrace.
"To Vittorio," Falcone toasted later that evening in the grand parlor, raising a glass of Vittorio’s own vintage Barolo. "A tragic, unforeseen loss. But Naples needs leadership, my dear Isabella. We will protect you. You have our full support in managing his territories."
"Thank you, Don Falcone," Isabella smiled smoothly. "With my husband gone, I see no reason why Naples and Palermo cannot share the ports. We are entering a new era of peace."
Watching the screen, Alessio scoffed. "She’s selling your empire for a pat on the head and a seat at their table."
Vittorio didn’t blink. He was staring at the woman he had loved, the woman who had kissed his scars and whispered promises in the dark. He felt nothing but a cold, absolute void.
"Let them feast," Vittorio whispered. "Let them drink my wine and divide my kingdom. When a rat thinks it has won, it stops looking for the trap."
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Down the hall, in a secure guest wing, Sophia sat by her father's bed. Renzo was heavily bandaged, but he was resting comfortably, safe behind reinforced steel doors. Sophia held a brand new, pristine coloring book Vittorio had quietly left for her.
The pieces were in place. The board was set.
