Chapter : The Taste of Victory.

Natalia leaned back in her chair, the plush leather cushioning her as she swirled the wine in her glass. The room was warm, dimly lit, and buzzing with a soft hum of jazz from the record player.

Across from her, Elena perched on the edge of the couch, looking at Natalia with an odd mixture of admiration and concern.

“I told you it would work, Sofia,” Natalia said, her lips curling into a self-satisfied smile.

“Step by step, I dismantled them. His brothers can’t stand to be in the same room together, his mother is practically a wreck, and his father? Oh, the mighty patriarch barely has any control left. Vincenzo’s empire is crumbling, and he has no clue that it’s all because of me.”

Sofia raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. “I still think you’re playing with fire, Natalia.

A man like Vincenzo... he’s not someone you toy with. You’re risking everything.”

Natalia smirked, setting her glass down on the table. The sound of it clicking against the wood felt like a punctuation mark to her victory.

“That’s exactly why it’s so satisfying. He thinks he’s untouchable, but every man has his weaknesses.

And his biggest weakness is me. Sweet, innocent Natalia, the woman he thinks he’s falling in love with. That’s what makes this so perfect. He has no idea what’s coming.”

Sofia leaned back, biting her lip nervously.

“You sound so confident, but what if he finds out? What then? Men like him don’t just forgive and forget.”

“Then I’ll deal with it,” Natalia said with a shrug, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “But he won’t find out. I’ve been careful. Every move I’ve made, every little game I’ve played, has been flawless. Vincenzo di angelo might think he’s the king of the chessboard, but I’m the one controlling the pieces.”

Sofia hesitated, but she finally sighed and raised her glass. “To you, Natalia. For pulling off what no one else could.”

Natalia clinked her glass against sofia’s, a thrill coursing through her as she took a sip. She stood and walked to the large window overlooking the city.

The lights of the skyline sparkled like a sea of stars, and she couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. Everything had gone exactly as she had planned.

“This is it, sofia,” Natalia said, her voice soft but triumphant.

“I’ve won. Vincenzo and his family are on the brink of collapse, and they don’t even realize I’m the one who orchestrated it all.”

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the gentle crackle of the record player. Natalia was lost in her thoughts, reliving the moments of her victory, the countless hours she had spent weaving her web of lies and manipulation.

But then, the silence was shattered.

“Do you really think you’ve won, sweetheart?”

The voice was deep, calm, and laced with a quiet menace that sent a shiver down Natalia’s spine. Her breath hitched as she froze in place, her hand tightening around the glass.

Slowly, she turned around, her eyes widening as they met the figure standing in the shadows of the doorway.

Vincenzo di angelo.

He stepped into the light, his face unreadable, his dark eyes piercing into hers. There was no anger in his expression, no fury—just a chilling calm that was far more terrifying.

Sofia shot up from her seat, her face pale. “I-I should go...” she stammered, quickly grabbing her bag and heading for the door. Vincenzo didn’t even glance at her as she scurried past him.

The door clicked shut, leaving Natalia and Vincenzo alone. The silence that followed was suffocating. Natalia forced herself to breathe, to keep her composure.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart.

Vincenzo tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I could ask you the same thing, love. Sitting here, celebrating... what exactly?”

Natalia swallowed hard, her mind racing for a response. “Just a small victory. Nothing you’d care about.”

His smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He took a slow step closer, and Natalia instinctively backed away.

“You’ve been busy,” he said, his tone casual, almost conversational. “So many things going wrong lately. My brothers at each other’s throats, my parents unable to agree on anything, my business deals mysteriously falling apart. It’s almost as if someone’s been... orchestrating it.”

Her blood ran cold, but she forced a laugh. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough week. Maybe you should take some time off.”

Vincenzo’s gaze darkened, and he took another step toward her. “Do you really think I don’t know, Natalia?”

She froze, her breath catching in her throat.

Vincenzo closed the distance between them, his eyes never leaving hers. He stopped mere inches away, leaning down slightly so their faces were level.

He stepped closer, unbothered by her act. "You play the role well, Natalia. The sweet voice, the doe eyes, the innocent little ‘baby’ routine." He leaned down, his breath ghosting over her ear.

"But here’s the thing—you can’t manipulate someone who already knows the game."

Her heart raced, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but you do,” he said, straightening up.

“You think you’re so clever, breaking apart my family piece by piece. But here’s the truth, Natalia. I don’t care about them.”

Her stomach dropped. This wasn’t part of the plan.

His lips curved into a cruel smile. “Do you know what happens to people who think they can outplay me?”

Natalia’s heart pounded in her chest as his words sank in. He knew. Somehow, he knew.

“I’ve been playing my own game. And unlike you, I don’t lose.”

The room spun around her as the weight of his words crashed down. Natalia had always prided herself on being in control, on staying one step ahead. But now.

Vincenzo straightened, his smirk returning as he took a step back. “Enjoy your victory while you can, Natalia. Because this game? It’s far from over.”

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving her standing there, her glass still trembling in her hand.

The door closed behind him, but the silence he left in his wake was deafening. Natalia stared at the empty doorway, her mind reeling.

For the first time, she wasn’t sure who held the upper hand—and that terrified her.

Word count: ~1,225