QUEEN OF THE UNDERWORLD

The war room smelled like gun oil and old grief. Valentina stood at the head of the table, Niko's blood-stained notebook open in front of her. The edges were curled, soaked in crimson, and her hands trembled as she traced the last page.

Florence.

Silvano.

Beneath the chapel.

He said: "Burn it all, V."

Her throat tightened, and she blinked back the sting in her eyes. Niko had died getting her that information. A boy raised from the streets. A brother. A soldier. A sacrifice.

Bryan leaned over her shoulder. "Are you sure you want to do this tonight?"

"Every second we wait dishonors him," she said, her voice hoarse. "He gave me the name. I'll give him justice."

From the shadows, a soft voice replied, "Then let's bring the fire."

Nina De Becky stepped into the room, black tactical gear hugging her tall frame. Her red-painted nails were chipped, and her eyes were raw—she hadn't been sleeping either.

"I should've been there with him," Nina whispered. "But if this is war, then I'm seeing it through."

Valentina reached for her hand. They were older now—hardened—but the grip was the same. Steel forged in girlhood. Loyalty born of bruises and blood.

"We end it in Florence," Valentina said. "Once and for all."

⸻

The abandoned cathedral in Florence loomed like a corpse of faith. Its stained-glass windows were shattered, its bells silent. Inside, the chapel was wired with security traps, laser systems, and false walls hiding armed mercenaries.

Bryan handled the blueprints.

Nina handled the hacking.

Valentina handled the rest.

⸻

They moved at midnight.

Bryan rappelled through the skylight, picking off the snipers. Nina disabled the interior locks and dropped smoke bombs in the hall. Valentina walked in through the ruined nave, dressed in black, guns holstered like twin promises.

When Silvano Vellaro emerged from the altar's shadow, he didn't look like a ghost.

He looked like a man who had killed his own brother—her father—and buried his sins under centuries of stone.

"Your father was weak," he said. "He chose loyalty over power. You shouldn't make the same mistake."

"I won't," Valentina said coldly. "That's why I'm here. And why you're going to die tonight."

Silvano laughed. "And you brought your little best friend, too? Thought she died in the fire."

"No," Nina said, stepping forward, gun raised. "I just stopped running."

The standoff was brief.

A hidden guard fired—missed.

Bryan took him out with a single shot from the mezzanine.

Valentina charged, slamming Silvano into the altar. One gun drawn. Eyes burning.

"You killed my father," she hissed. "And Niko. You hollowed out this family and called it survival."

Silvano spat blood. "I made this family."

"No," she said. "You poisoned it."

She pulled the trigger.

The bullet split the air and struck his heart clean through.

Silvano crumpled like ash.

⸻

Outside, dawn was breaking over Florence.

Bryan sat on the cathedral steps, silent. Nina paced, trying not to cry.

Valentina stood over the stone steps, holding Niko's notebook.

"He said to burn it all," she murmured.

Nina struck the first match.

They lit the cathedral in silence.

Smoke curled into the sky like incense, like absolution, like mourning.

⸻

Back at Vellaro Estate, Valentina walked into her father's old office.

She placed the notebook on his desk.

Above it, she wrote one line on a clean page:

"Niko died free."

Bryan came in quietly.

"You ended it."

"No," she said. "I just rewrote the legacy."

Nina joined them, a fresh scar along her temple. "So what now?"

Valentina looked out the window, toward the gates of her kingdom.

"Now?" she said, a cold smile touching her lips.

"Now we rebuild—our way."