Chapter 3
1170 Words
(Author’s POV)
The black Rolls-Royce Phantom glides down the private road to the runway, its engine purring quietly against the quietness within the vehicle. Outside, the Sicilian countryside blurs past, bathed in the golden light of the rising sun. However, the temperature inside the car is really low.
Ansaldo sat in the backseat, his stance comfortable but his wrath evident. His steel-gray gaze is fixated on Matteo, who sits on the passenger seat beside the driver, anxious. Ansaldo's stillness is oppressive, like a looming storm.
Then, his voice cuts through the quiet like a blade.
"Matteo” The name is spoken slowly, deliberately. A warning. Matteo swallows, already knowing what’s coming.
"Boss…"
"How the f**k did Valeria Moretti walk into my room?" Ansaldo’s voice is calm, too calm, deadly. Matteo exhales, rubbing his temple.
"She must’ve slipped in through the…"
"Slipped in?" Ansaldo’s tone sharpens, his fury laced with disbelief. His hand tightens into a fist on his thigh.
"I have the most fortified estate in Sicily, Matteo. No one, no one gets in without my approval” Matteo hesitates, but Ansaldo isn’t done.
"So tell me," Ansaldo continues, his voice dropping into something colder, deadlier.
"Did my security suddenly become a f*****g joke? Or do I have incompetent men watching my gates?" Matteo turns slightly in his seat, his expression tense.
"It won’t happen again” Ansaldo scoffs, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the leather seat.
"It shouldn’t have happened in the first place".
The driver remains focused on the road, too intelligent to become entangled. The silence that follows is dense, and the air within the car suffocates. Ansaldo leans in slightly, his voice a whisper of lethal promise.
"If one unwanted guest can get in, that means a bullet can, too. So either fix this, or I’ll fix it myself, starting with every guard who let it happen" Matteo nods stiffly.
"Understood, Boss" Ansaldo exhales sharply and leans back, his fingertips stroking the watch on his wrist. His fury has not subsided, but he forces himself to concentrate. He has greater issues to cope with.
Like the Zhao princess.
Whereas in a high-rise penthouse in Hong Kong, overlooking Victoria Harbour. The city spreads out below like a sea of neon, with the skyline lighted by a thousand flashing lights. But inside the penthouse, the atmosphere is stark…quiet, calculated, and menacing.
Selene Zhao sits at a sleek, glass-top desk in the centre of the room, with a solitary bulb throwing a soothing glow over her work area. Her long raven hair drapes over one shoulder as she wears a tailored black blazer, and her delicate features remain unreadable. Multiple monitors in front of her show live video feeds of the city, including concealed cameras, financial information, and encrypted messages.
She isn't simply watching. She is controlling.
A man stands before her, Wei Lin, one of her finest strategists. He's sweating and shifting nervously. He understands that appearing in front of Selene Zhao signifies one of two things, reward or ruin. And based on the chilly calm in her black eyes, he's unsure which.
"You lost the shipment" Selene finally says, her voice soft but sharp as glass. Wei Lin flinches.
"I…It wasn’t my fault. The Russians…" Selene tilts her head, her fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of her chair.
"The Russians?" She echoes, almost amused.
"You think the Russians moved against us without knowing exactly what I’d do to them?" Wei Lin swallows. He knows she’s right. Nothing in this city, nothing happens without her knowledge, her permission, her design.
Selene leans forward, resting her chin on her hand.
"Tell me, Wei Lin… why do you think I let this happen?" He blinks.
"Let it… happen?" She smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. Just a cold calculation.
"That shipment was bait," She murmurs.
"And the Russians took it, just as I planned. Now, I know exactly where their safe house is, how they move, who they trust" She gestures to one of the screens. A live feed from a warehouse near the docks shows a group of Russians unloading stolen cargo.
"My men are already there," Selene continues, her voice like silk.
"By morning, they’ll be nothing but a rumor" Wei Lin stares at her, realising something. She'd never lost control. She'd played the adversary, him, and everyone.
Selene gets smoothly from her chair and walks to the window. She owns Hong Kong.
"The difference between me and the men who think they can take my throne?" She says without looking back.
"I never move unless I’ve already won".
And as the first gunshots crackle through the speakers, Selene smiles…Game over.
Next day, Selene is sitting in the private study of the Zhao family estate. The place is enormous but minimalistic, every detail planned, every space uncluttered, just like the man who lives there.
Zhao Wei, the unchallenged monarch of Asia's criminal empire, is seated in the centre of the room, behind a hefty mahogany desk. His presence is a force of nature, the result of decades of bloodshed, power, and ruthlessness. Selene Zhao stands across from him, poised and elegant.
Zhao Wei exhales slowly, setting down his tea.
"You’re moving too quickly, Selene" She doesn’t blink.
"And you’re not moving at all” A flicker of amusement crosses her father’s aged features, but it vanishes just as quickly.
"Expansion requires patience. Strategy" Selene steps forward, hands resting lightly on the edge of his desk.
"Strategy? I watched you crush your enemies before they even realized they were at war" Her voice is calm, sharp.
"But now, you hesitate. Why?" Zhao Wei studies her, his dark eyes revealing nothing. Finally, he leans back in his chair.
"You remind me of your mother" Selene tightens her jaw but says nothing. Her mother, the only person he had ever loved, the only weakness he had ever demonstrated was long gone, lost in a world where power had no mercy.
"She was fearless, too," He continued.
"And look where that got her" Selene meets his gaze, unwavering.
"I am not my mother” A beat of silence. Then, Zhao Wei chuckles, a deep, knowing sound.
"No," He murmurs, nodding slightly.
"You are far more dangerous” Selene straightens.
"Then let me prove it” Zhao Wei looks at her with the weight of decades of power in his eyes. Then he exhales, tapping his fingers on the desk.
"The West is coming," He says finally.
"Ansaldo is moving into our territory” Selene’s lips curve into the faintest smirk.
"Then let’s show him why that was a mistake” Her father watches her, a slow, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Very well, Selene. The empire is yours to defend" The unspoken words hover between them. You must prove yourself or risk losing everything.
Selene turns and walks out of the study with the grace of a queen. She has already decided. Adrian Ansaldo may be a king in the West.
But in the east?...She rules.
- Writer
