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He stood behind the desk for the first time, Elena at his side. Their fingers brushed—one small touch in a moment that felt monumental. “I never thought I’d sit here,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “Not like this.” Elena leaned against the desk’s edge, studying him. “You’re not your father.” “No,” he said. “But I carry his name. And now, so do you.” The meaning hung between them. He wasn’t just claiming power. He was claiming her. Not as a pawn. Not as a prisoner. As his equal. There was no ceremony. No grand announcement. Just the quiet, irrevocable shift of power as they both took control. And yet, the moment felt larger than any crown or throne. Elena stepped forward, her hand on his cheek. “We’ve crossed fire to get here, Alessandro.” “I know.” She looked at him, really looke
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