Back at the penthouse, no one slept.
Security reports moved in and out. Phones rang. Screens updated every few minutes. The city outside glittered beautifully, indifferent to the fact that Anna and Oliver's world had shifted again.
Adrian was dangerous.
But not final.
Anna stood barefoot near the floor-to-ceiling windows, Veronica's silk scarf looped over one hand.
Oliver entered from the study, sleeves rolled up, tension carved into every line of him.
"No trace," he said.
"Of Veronica?"
"Of the service route, vehicles, or signal jammers. Clean exit."
Anna looked down at the scarf.
"She wanted to be seen."
"Yes."
"And wanted me to hear that line."
He crossed to her.
"Likely false."
"Likely strategic," Anna corrected. "That's different."
His eyes met hers.
"You're angry again."
"I'm thinking."
"With sharper edges."
"I learned from marriage."
That almost earned a smile.
Almost.
They moved to the dining table, files spread between them.
Anna drew three names in the center of a blank page.
Adrian. Veronica. Hale.
Then beneath them:
Who benefits most?
Oliver watched.
"You think there's another financial player."
"I think there's another architect."
She circled Veronica.
"She said Adrian answers to someone."
"She may want us chasing ghosts."
"Maybe."
Anna circled Hale next.
"But Hale built systems. Adrian built ambition. Veronica built access."
Then she looked up.
"Who built patience?"
Silence.
Oliver's expression shifted.
"You have someone in mind."
"Maybe you do."
He didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
"Oliver."
He leaned back slowly.
"There was one person my father trusted more than Adrian."
"Who?"
"Matteo Serafina."
Anna froze slightly.
"The palazzo."
"Yes."
Old money. Old networks. Old silence.
"He owned banking channels, private holdings, legal shields across Europe," Oliver said. "If my father built empires openly, Serafina preserved them quietly."
"And now?"
"He disappeared from public life years ago."
Anna gave him a look.
"You attract too many dead or vanished men."
"I prefer your company."
"Deflection noted."
By morning, Anna had a plan.
"We go to the palazzo again."
"No."
"We absolutely do."
"It's exposed."
"So are we."
Oliver stepped closer.
"You are not bait."
Anna folded her arms.
"Good. Because I'm the hunter."
His jaw tightened in that way she increasingly enjoyed causing.
"This is not a game."
"No," she said softly. "It's why I'm serious."
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then: "Together."
She blinked once.
"That was suspiciously fast."
"I'm evolving."
"Slowly."
Palazzo Serafina looked serene in daylight.
The gates opened before they even stopped the car.
No guards visible.
Which meant many guards hidden.
Inside, the grand halls were quiet. A housekeeper led them through marble corridors into a private library lined with centuries of leather-bound wealth.
An old man sat near the fireplace.
Elegant suit. Silver hair. Hands steady on a cane he clearly didn't need.
His eyes were sharp enough to cut glass.
"Oliver," he said warmly.
Then to Anna—
"And finally, the woman worth all this inconvenience."
Anna smiled politely.
"You must be Matteo."
"I must."
Oliver's voice was ice.
"You're alive."
Matteo chuckled.
"People keep sounding disappointed."
Anna didn't sit.
"You manipulated us into coming."
"No," Matteo said. "I created curiosity. You brought yourselves."
Oliver remained standing.
"Did Adrian send Hale?"
"Sometimes."
"Did Veronica work for you?"
"Occasionally."
Anna's pulse sharpened.
"You orchestrated the attacks."
Matteo looked pleased.
"No. I orchestrated pressure. Attacks are emotional."
He gestured to the chairs.
"Sit. You both mistake survival for villainy."
Neither moved.
Matteo sighed lightly.
"Young people love posture."
Then he looked directly at Anna.
"Your husband's father stole from the family."
The room changed instantly.
Oliver's voice dropped dangerously low.
"Careful."
Matteo ignored him.
"He moved legacy assets into trusts beyond family control."
Anna remembered Adrian's documents.
"So Adrian wanted them back."
"Adrian wanted noise," Matteo said. "I wanted order."
"And Hale?"
"A tool."
"Ethan's family?"
"A regrettable cost."
Anna's expression hardened.
"You ruin lives and call it accounting."
He smiled faintly.
"You understand power better than Oliver did at your age."
Oliver stepped forward.
"Do not compare her to this."
Matteo's eyes gleamed.
"There it is. The only leverage you truly care about."
Anna saw it then.
Not just money.
Not just control.
Matteo was measuring them.
Testing where to press.
Then he placed a folder on the desk.
Inside were legal documents.
Trust transfers.
Succession clauses.
Marriage provisions.
Anna's blood ran cold at one heading:
Conditional Heir Governance Upon Birth of Direct Descendant
She looked up slowly.
"You built contracts around children not yet born?"
Matteo's smile never moved.
"Families plan ahead."
Oliver's fury became palpable.
"You involve her again and I end every structure you have left."
Matteo met his gaze calmly.
"You can try."
Then he looked at Anna.
"Or you can be practical and help me stabilize what your husband would rather burn."
Anna closed the folder carefully.
Then slid it into the fireplace.
Flames caught instantly.
For the first time, Matteo lost composure.
The room went still.
Anna held his gaze.
"You keep confusing family with property."
Oliver stared at her like he'd forgotten language.
Matteo's voice chilled.
"You've made an enemy."
Anna stepped beside her husband.
"No," she said softly. "I identified one."
And as the papers burned, war officially changed hands.