The echo of Mirella Bellandi’s heels rang through the corridor, sharp and furious. The high walls, lined with portraits of ancestors who seemed to watch her with silent judgment, reflected the dim glow of crystal chandeliers, casting long shadows that slithered along the marble floor like ghosts in her wake. Her posture was graceful, but her eyes burned with worry and rage.As she turned a corner, she came face to face with Fabio. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his silhouette etched against the amber light of an old lamp. Their eyes met for a fleeting second—charged with a tense, almost painful complicity. No words were needed to grasp the gravity of the moment.“I don’t like what’s happening,” Mirella snapped, skipping any form of pleasantry. Her voice was a sharp whisper, laced with venom she didn’t bother to conceal. “First Dante, and now the boy. Someone seems very determined to wipe out the only heirs to the Bellandi legacy.”Fabio kept his gaze on an imaginary po