Page 77

She tilts her head, studying me. "What kind of business?"

"The final step to consolidate our new power," I answer, keeping my tone even.

She nods, trusting me as she always does, even when she lacks all the details. After breakfast, I leave the estate alone. No guards. No display of force. Just me. This is a mission I must complete alone.

The De Angelis estate looms ahead, cold and familiar. I drive through the gates and walk through the halls with measured steps. My mind remains clear even as memories from months ago, when I used to protect Isadora within these very walls, come crashing in.

Antonio De Angelis waits inside his study, the same room where alliances once born of convenience and greed now seem like ghosts.

He doesn't rise when I enter. He leans back in his chair, eyes sharp and guarded.

"Gravano, or should I say Calviño?" he questions in a low voice. "Didn't expect you’d ever show your face here again."

"I'm here for something important."

His brows lift slightly, but he says nothing.

"I want your blessing to marry your daughter."

The words fall between us, heavy and irrevocable.

Antonio stiffens, the faintest crack in his stoic mask. “You think you need it?”

"She gave up everything for me," I continue, my voice steady. "She stood by me when she had every reason not to. But no matter what she lost, she never stopped loving you."

I step closer, letting him see the truth in my eyes.

"It would mean everything to her—and to me—if you could put aside any doubts and give us your blessing."

The silence that follows is thick, stretched taut. Finally, Antonio exhales slowly and deliberately.

"I gave Giancarlo and Luca my loyalty blindly," he says. "Believed they would build something lasting."

Bitterness colors his voice.

"I see now they used everyone around them. Loyalty meant nothing but leverage."

“I am nothing like them,” I say, holding his gaze. “My actions against them were to avenge my mother and myself. I am sure the same fate would have befallen your daughter if she had ended up in their clutches.”

“You should have come to me instead of roping my daughter into your plans.”

“Would you have believed me?”

The look in his eyes tells me he wouldn’t have.

“Besides, I did not rope your daughter in. She found out the truth about me and made her choice. Not even I could make her do otherwise.”

He rises from his chair, coming to stand in front of me, eye to eye.

"You," he says, voice dropping lower, "are truly different from Giancarlo."

He rests a hand briefly on my shoulder, a weight of acceptance and trust.

"You have my blessing," he says. "And my full support."

Relief cuts through me, sharp and clean.

"Thank you," I say.