And there she was again. A small press interview from a silent investor gala. Dressed clean. Confident. Smiling just enough to be polite.
Not for one second did she look back at the camera.
Not one.flicker of guilt.
That was when the anger kicked in harder.
‘Fuck…” I dragged my hand down my face, felt my beard scraping against my palm. “She’s playing me. She’s coming for me.”
And fuck help me, I deserved it. But that didn’t mean I’d sit still.
No.
f she wanted war… she’d get one.
But the real question burned like acid behind my ribs- If I find her, do I destroy her? Or do I fall to my fucking knees?
looked at her image again. Frozen on screen.
“Why, baby…” I muttered. “Why’d you have to become my enemy to finally stand tall?” And then whispered what I knew in my gut. “She’s not done. She’s just getting started.”
ZORAYA’S POV
noticed it right away.
The shift.
The silence.
The way Zeus started looking through me like I wasn’t even fucking there. At first, I thought he was just tired. You know, those typical moody, brooding mafia man blues–too much blood on his hands, too many lies under his belt. I was patient. I played the good girl. Wore his shirts around the mansion, cooked his favorite food like some little housewife, let the baby sit in his ap hoping it would snap him out of whatever trance he was in.
3ut nah. His mind wasn’t here.
Not with me. Not with our son.
Every time I touched his arm, he’d stiffen like I was ice. Every time I tried to kiss his neck or crawl nto his lap, he’d mutter some bullshit about being tired, then pour himself another drink and etreat into his fucking office like the world outside didn’t matter.
He used to fuck me like he needed to forget something. Now he didn’t even look at me like he ‘emembered I existed.
So I asked around. Quietly. Bribed one of the security guys. Had a little chat with Viktor when Zeus wasn’t around. Played the whole concerned wife card.
And then I heard it.
Savannah.
Chantar 15
1:52 pm G DDD
That name again, like a damn ghost that just won’t stay buried. Like poison that never leaves the bloodstream. Like a curse.
She’s alive. That’s what the whispers said. That red–dressed bitch from the gala? Yeah. That wa: her. The same one I watched Zeus bury with his own hands. Now she’s back, calling hersel Moretti, strutting around like some royal mafia witch reborn.
And ever since he saw her–Zeus has been gone.
Gone from me. Gone from his son. Gone from this house I bled to build beside him.
I tried everything.
New lingerie. Red. His favorite.
I walked into his study with nothing but silk.
perfume between us. I leaned down, whispered
his name in that sultry tone he used to growl over.
He didn’t even glance at me. Just said, “Not now.”
Not now? I wanted to slap him. Scream. Burn everything to the damn ground. But I didn’t. Not
yet.
I smiled instead. Sweet. Deadly.
But I heard what he said to Viktor later, when he thought I wasn’t listening–when he forgot how thin these walls are in this overpriced mansion.
“This isn’t love,” he said.
“This is guilt. I married her because I thought I buried the woman I loved. But if Savannah’s alive
“What will you do?” Viktor asked him.
Zeus’s voice dropped lower. Almost broken.
“I’ll never forgive myself. But I’ll never let her go again either.”
And that’s when something inside me snapped.
He was choosing her. Her fucking ghost. Her new face. Her new name. Her lies. Her warpath.
Over me. Over the woman who held his hand through war, cleaned his blood off silk sheets, gave
birth to his child. Over his son.
So fine.
Let him chase his ghost. Let him try to undo the past. But he’s forgetting one thing- I don’t go down easy.
And if he thinks Savannah Moretti is the only woman who knows how to play dirty? Then he’s about to find out what real vengeance looks like.
Because I carried his child. I swallowed every insult. I stood beside his throne when Savannah couldn’t even crawl.
And if he wants war? Then baby… I’ll make Savannah wish she stayed dead.
So I made my move.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. I didn’t throw myself at his feet like some desperate housewife. That’s not me. That’s never been me. I hired someone. Quiet. Discreet. Expensive.
1:52 pm G D DD.
Private investigator. Real pro. The kind of guy who’s done dirt for people way higher on the food chain than me.
Paid him in cash, diamonds, favors–whatever the hell he wanted. I needed answers.
Within a week, I had a full report sitting on my lap. Pictures. Connections. Names. Records. Shit even Zeus’s tech team couldn’t pull because they weren’t looking at her like a threat. They were looking at her like a miracle.
Idiots.
I stared at the first page. Savannah. Fucking. Moretti.
The bitch didn’t just survive. She evolved.
New face. New name. Fluent in Sicilian. Tied directly to the most dangerous bloodline in southern Europe. Moretti heiress. The one they call “death’s daughter” behind closed doors.
I thought she really died. I watched her body. I saw the urn. I flashed her asher to toilet.
I let my fucking guard down.
She faked it. The entire fucking thing. And now she’s walking through the underworld like she owns it–with power, with legacy, with fucking elegance. And Zeus? He’s already halfway gone. In his head, he’s already kneeling at her feet asking for fucking forgiveness.
I paced the room like a caged animal. Slapped the file on the table so hard the papers scattered.
I whispered to myself, seething, like venom was building behind my teeth.
She wants to take him. She wants to take everything.
And if I don’t act fast, she will.
I gripped the wine glass and chucked it across the room. Watched it shatter into pieces that looked exactly like what was left of my fucking control. She fooled us all. And now she thinks she’s the queen?
1:52 pm GB
Chapte
