Against fate : rebirth of the stubborn heiress

The Bellani study was nothing short of intimidating. Floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves lined with first editions, rare ledgers, and antique financial records. The air smelled faintly of old books mixed with expensive whiskey.

At the center, behind an enormous carved desk, sat Leonardo Bellani, her second eldest brother. The sharpness in his gaze rivalled the numbers on Wall Street itself.

Summer pushed open the door lightly, with Travis following behind her like a shadow.

Leo didn't look up at first. His fingers flew across the keyboard, multiple screens showing stock graphs, market trends, and financial reports.

"You're late," Leo remarked, voice crisp but not unkind.

"hardly ," Summer corrected, strolling over to the velvet seat opposite him.

Travis took his usual position—leaning against the bookshelf, arms crossed, wordless but always present.

Leo finally glanced at her, his eyes narrowing as he scanned her face. "You went shopping."

"Observation skills, ten out of ten," she winked, crossing one leg over the other.

He ignored the sarcasm, dragging one screen closer to her. "Since you seem to have time for boutiques, let me remind you—you also agreed to review this."

On the screen was a company name: Asteria Group Holdings.

"Hmm... remind me again why this is on my radar?" Summer tilted her head.

Leo leaned back. "Small firm. Biotech startup. Their valuation is about to jump if they secure the medical license this quarter. High risk, but the payout...?" He tapped the side of the screen. "Easily five times your entry."

Summer's eyes flickered with interest. "You checked their board?"

"Corrupt," Leo answered flatly. "But manageable."

Travis's voice cut in from the corner, cool and detached. "If she takes it, I'll monitor the legal side."

Summer pouted. "See... this is what I mean. Other girls get flowers. I get a full corporate assassin squad."

Leo deadpanned. "Flowers don't make money."

Travis didn't even blink. "Flowers die."

She laughed, resting her chin on her palm. "You two are absolutely deranged."

"Anyway." Leo spun the monitor slightly toward her. "If you're serious about handling real investments this time—not just safe stock plays—this is a good trial. I'll front half if you're hesitant."

"I don't need hand-holding," Summer replied, pulling out her tablet and opening her trading account. "If I lose, I lose."

Leo watched her fingers fly across the screen, inputting numbers without hesitation. "You've grown sharper," he muttered, almost to himself.

Summer's lips curved. "What can I say? Rebirth makes a girl ambitious."

He raised a brow. "Rebirth?"

"Nothing." She waved it off.

As the trade confirmed, Leo leaned forward, folding his hands. "This isn't just money, Summer. Once your name hits the shareholder list, people will start noticing. You can't keep hiding behind the Bellani name forever."

Travis stiffened. "She doesn't have to step out."

Leo's gaze flicked toward him, unimpressed. "She's not porcelain, Travis. You can't wrap her in bubble wrap forever."

"I'm not trying to," Travis said quietly, but his eyes darkened. "But if anyone touches her..."

Summer sighed, interrupting before the conversation could turn into one of their silent war games. "Both of you, relax. I know exactly what I'm doing."

Leo sat back, studying her for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Fine. I'll loop you in with my trading analyst. You'll start sitting in on board briefings."

"Good." Summer smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's make some real money."

---

As the conversation wound down, her phone buzzed.

> Sham Sham:

New Task Generated:

"Maintain a 10% profit margin on your current investment for 7 days."

Reward: A rare skill – "Negotiation Queen."

Summer smirked.

Bring it on.

---

When she stood to leave, Leo added as an afterthought, "By the way, prep your schedule. The charity gala's in few weeks."

"The one at Palazzo Amarante?" Summer raised a brow.

"Yeah. Everyone's going to be there. Including..." His mouth tugged into a half-smirk. "Your favourite little audience."

Her eyes narrowed. "Perfect. A stage is only fun when the right people are watching."

Travis, trailing behind her as they left the study, stayed silent. But his hand brushed hers briefly, his fingers curling like he wanted to hold on—then releasing just as quickly.

Because that's who Travis was. Silent. Watching. Always ready to protect.

No one touched what was his.