The council room was silent. Breathless. Not out of fear, but something deeper. Anticipation. Every chair was filled, every eye locked on me. I could hear the ticking of the ornate clock behind Matteo. I could hear the slight hum of the overhead light. I could hear my own heartbeat, steady and sharp, like it already knew the answer before I sat down.

All eyes on me. Some wide with wonder, others tight with resentment. But none dared speak. Not until I moved. I stood in the center like it was a stage I’d built myself. And in some ways, I had. With blood. With grief. With every “no” they ever forced through my teeth.

The vote was fast. A show of hands. One by one, they rose. Some slowly. Some like they’d been waiting. No one dissented. Not even the ones who had voted against Matteo years ago. That’s the thing about survival: they don’t argue with it. They fear it. And follow it.

The title was mine. Interim Don. For now. But we all knew what interim meant in Velmorra. It meant until someone stronger took it. Or until you proved they never could. I stood again after the vote. Let them see me above them, not beside them.

“Let’s begin,” I said. And with that, we did.

I didn’t smile when they voted. I didn’t thank them. Power doesn’t ask for gratitude—it demands competence. Matteo watched me with something between pride and warning in his eyes. He had shaped this moment, but it no longer belonged to him. It belonged to me. To the girl no one saw. To the woman no one could stop.

One councilman asked, “What comes next?” I turned my head slowly.

“Restoration. Realignment. And if needed—retribution.”

The air tightened around the table. They nodded again. Slower. Heavier. They understood the language. I didn’t need to threaten. I only needed to promise. And they knew I never broke promises. Especially the bloody ones.

After the vote, Matteo led me through the old wing of the estate. The walls still bore portraits of Corvatti ancestors—men with sharp eyes and colder expressions. As I passed them, I felt their judgment. Their expectations. I wasn’t one of them. Not yet. But I would be the one they remembered.

In the corridor, Matteo finally spoke.

“You didn’t hesitate.”

I looked at him. “Was I supposed to?”

He shook his head. “No. But most do.”

We stopped at a window overlooking the estate grounds. He looked at me, serious now. “They’ll test you. Even after today.”

“Then let them,” I said. “I passed the only test that mattered. I’m still here.”

I changed before going to the hospital wing. Black slacks. Soft gray sweater. Nothing sharp. I didn’t want to look like a leader. I wanted to look like her. The Aria Luca first saw. The one who still wore pearls. I brushed my hair but didn’t pin it. For once, I wanted him to see me bare.

The hallway smelled like antiseptic and heartbreak. Nurses nodded gently. Guards stepped aside. Everyone had seen me walk these halls night after night. The girl who never cried. The woman who never left.

His room was warm. Dim. The hum of machines softer than usual. I took my seat beside him, breathing slow. I thought he was asleep. I almost reached for the book I’d been reading to him. But then his fingers twitched. Then again. I looked up. His lashes fluttered. His mouth parted. And then—“Aria?”

Hearing my name in his voice cracked something open in me. I reached forward, cupped his face, felt the rough stubble against my palms.

“I’m here,” I said. “Right here.”

He blinked. “Still not dreaming?”

“You’re alive,” I whispered. “And I’m not letting go again.”

“You always hated hospital lighting,” I said quietly, pouring water into a glass.

He smiled faintly, voice hoarse. “Still do. Looks like we’re inside a freezer.”

I held the cup to his lips. “Drink.”

He took it slowly. Each swallow careful.

“Your hands,” he murmured. “They don’t shake anymore.”

“They can’t afford to.”

A pause. Then, with more strength than I expected, he looked up.

“You’re a Don now.”

I leaned in and kissed his forehead. My lips lingered for just a second. “No. I’m still your Aria.”

He exhaled. Slow. Peaceful. His eyes closed. The nurse stepped out quietly, giving us a moment. I sat beside him, my hand still wrapped around his. For one second, the world was still.

Then—

BOOM!