Serafina’s POV
San Verità learned of my death at noon.
The announcement came the way Luca De Santis did everything clean, controlled, impossible to argue with. Every screen in the city flickered at once. Cafés went quiet. Offices froze mid-motion. Guards straightened in the streets as his face filled the broadcast, sharp and untroubled, dressed in black like a man already in mourning.
I stood in the shadows of a shuttered apartment three districts away, watching my own funeral begin.
“Members of the De Santis family,” Luca said calmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority, “and our respected allies. It is with regret that I announce the passing of my fiancée, Serafina Moretti.”
My name landed like a gunshot.
Beside me, Matteo’s body went rigid.
Luca continued smoothly. “A sudd
