Leon sat alone in the boardroom, the city skyline glowing behind him like a battlefield of glass and steel. The entire floor was silent. His executives had left hours ago. But he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even blink.
The folder with Serena’s—no, Alessia’s—identity lay open on the long obsidian table. Photos. Records. Her birth certificate. The forged documents. The suicide article.
And a memory, sharp and brutal, surfaced.
His father. Slumped in the chair across from him, years ago. Blood seeping through his suit. His last words: “The Ferreras will always be the poison in this city.”
Leon’s jaw flexed.
He pressed a button on his phone. “Bring the car around. I want eyes on Serena Hart tonight. No mistakes.”
“Yes, sir,” Damien responded without hesitation.
Leon stood and fast
