Throughout the day, Dante found himself trapped in a whirlwind of endless meetings, negotiations with leaders of rival clans, and critical decisions about shipments and alliances that, under any other circumstances, would have demanded his full attention. But this time was different. No matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind always wandered back to her: the dancer. That ethereal figure that had embedded itself in his thoughts with an unsettling familiarity, teetering on the edge between memory and obsession.

Meanwhile, Svetlana had been returned to the austere room assigned to her in the villa on the Calabrian coast. Plans to present her to Dante had been postponed due to urgent matters occupying his time: agreements with rival families, decisions about trafficking routes, and constant surveillance against internal betrayals. The young woman spent the hours submerged in a mixture of anxiety and resignation, struggling not to succumb to the fear threatening to consume her. Every c