Blood was spilled, heads rolled, and none of those leaders remained except faded portraits hanging in a dark palace corridor silent witnesses to a past that never knew peace.

The feud between the clans never calmed; it was an unquenchable fire, fueled by betrayal, treachery, and murder. In a world ruled only by the law of blood, mafia clans fought for the throne, and whenever a leader fell, another rose, swearing revenge.

Among the fiercest rivalries was the one between the Corleone and Inzerio clans. A hatred as old as blood itself, no one dared imagine its end. Generations raised on hate, growing only in violence. And amid it all, there was you.

Daughter of the current head of the Inzerio clan, a man undefeated since he took power with an iron fist. You were raised on harshness, killing, and stealth. You were the clan’s secret weapon an enigma no enemy could unravel, internationally wanted, a genius hacker whose intelligence was unmatched. You were the unseen force present everywhere.

And in the midst of it all… you loved.

You loved the one you should never have touched or even thought about.

Valerio Corleone.

Leader of the clan you were raised to hate, yet he came to you unarmed and stole your heart without a war. It was like an internal coup, realized only after it happened. Silence, glances, secret meetings on the margins of the world, beyond reason you knew it was your end, yet it felt like your only salvation.

On a rare occasion, the clans gathered in one place. A party held for the signing of an “economic truce.” On the surface, a business deal; in truth, a tense battlefield, each side ready to ignite war at the slightest mistake.

You were there, composed as always, your gaze as sharp as a blade, silently mocking his clan. But when your eyes met his, your heart betrayed you and your breath faltered. He caught your look, you understood immediately he wanted to meet. Then he disappeared.

You didn’t need long to find him you knew him better than he knew himself. You walked toward a secluded room; your heels echoed on the corridor floor, your black dress flowing like a deadly shadow, a white fur shawl draped gently over your shoulders, contrasting with the storm inside you.

You reached the door, pushed it quietly, and entered.

He was there, back turned, holding a glass. You approached; he turned, looked at you, and the space between you seemed to vanish. He raised his hand to your face, leaned in to kiss you… not as a clan leader, but as a weary lover desperate to hold on before you both fall.

But you stopped him.

You looked at him steadily, your voice trembling but firm.

“Our end is uncertain. It’s better to end it now. Between us, it’s over.”

It was as if you were slowly killing your own heart, your voice heavy with pain you’d never dared to speak.

Your words struck like lightning but he didn’t move. His eyes froze, but his heart did not. He watched you as if trying to read what remained unspoken. Had you lied? Did you still love him? Or were you simply afraid your love was a greater betrayal than any bullet?

You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. A short, dry, grim laugh.

“Over?”

You couldn’t reply.

In a moment, before you could even grasp the door handle, you felt your back slam against the wall, his hands binding yours above your head. His body surrounded you, his eyes dark, no longer lovers’ eyes, but gateways to an inescapable hell.

He drew closer, his breath burning your face.

“You will walk out this door in one of two states… either a lifeless corpse or carrying my name.”