An Eventful Encounter

Three years.

Three years since I staggered out of Giovanni’s mansion, clutching my stomach, battered and humiliated. Three years since I stood in the rain, swearing to never beg or cry again.

And now, here I was, standing at the pinnacle of power, a woman they called “The Mistress.” The whispers followed me everywhere, from the streets to the boardrooms. They spoke of my ruthlessness, my precision, and my uncanny ability to evade justice. No criminal record. No loose ends.

But the thing that amused me most? They had no idea who I really was. Not yet.

Giovanni’s downfall was inevitable. The moment I walked out of his life, he’d started digging his own grave. I didn’t even have to push very hard just a few nudges here and there, planting the right people in the right places.

Matteo had been the final piece of the puzzle. Giovanni’s once-loyal right-hand man now stood firmly in my corner, feeding me every secret, every weakness.

“It’s all coming together,” Matteo said one evening as we gathered in Carlo’s study. The fire crackled softly behind him, casting shadows that danced across the walls.

“Giovanni’s organization is barely holding together. His men don’t trust him, his allies are jumping ship, and his finances are a mess.”

“Good,” I said, swirling the wine in my glass. “Let him feel the walls closing in. I want him to understand what it means to lose everything.”

Matteo nodded, his expression serious. “Lily’s the only one keeping him afloat. She’s been pushing him to form an alliance with Carlo.”

I laughed, the sound sharp and cold. “An alliance? With us? She must be desperate.”

“She is,” Carlo said, leaning back in his chair. “But desperate people make mistakes. And Giovanni’s made plenty.”

I set my glass down, my mind racing. “If Giovanni wants to surrender, let him come. Let him grovel. But I want him to see who’s pulling the strings before it’s over.”

Carlo smirked. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“More than I should,” I admitted.

When the day finally arrived, I stood at the head of the grand hall, dressed in black and radiating the power I had fought so hard to claim. My men lined the walls, their presence a silent reminder of the authority I wielded.

I had sent Giovanni the invitation myself, knowing he couldn’t refuse. Pride might have kept him away before, but pride couldn’t protect him now.

The doors opened, and there he was.

At first, he didn’t see me. His eyes scanned the room, pausing on Carlo before moving to the men standing guard. And then his gaze landed on me.

His expression froze, confusion flashing across his face. And then recognition hit him like a slap.

“Maya?”

I smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of my lips. “It’s been a while.”

He took a step forward, his disbelief giving way to anger. “What is this? Some kind of joke?”

“No joke,” I replied calmly. “This is justice.”

Giovanni’s sneer returned, though it lacked its usual confidence. “Justice? Don’t make me laugh. You think standing in this fancy room, hiding behind Carlo, makes you powerful?”

I stepped closer, each click of my heels against the marble floor echoing like a countdown. “I’m not hiding, Giovanni. I’m standing right here, in the empire I built. Every move, every strike against you…it was me. And I didn’t need Carlo to do it.”

His laugh was hollow, a man clutching at straws. “You’ve deluded yourself, Maya. You think wearing a title makes you untouchable?”

“No,” I said, stopping a few feet from him. “Power isn’t about titles. It’s about control. And right now, I control everything.”

His jaw tightened, but I could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

“Your allies?” I continued. “They’re mine now. Your territory? Mine. Your secrets? Oh, Giovanni, those were the easiest to take.”

“You’re bluffing,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

“Am I?” I countered, arching an eyebrow. “Tell me, how’s business these days? Losing shipments, losing men… I imagine it’s hard to sleep at night with all those knives at your back.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spat, though I could see the cracks forming in his composure.

I smiled again, softer this time, almost pitying. “You always underestimated me. That was your first mistake. And now, you’re here, begging for a way out…even if you won’t admit it.”

“I’m not begging,” he snapped, but the venom in his voice was weaker now.

“Of course not,” I said, stepping back and gesturing to the room. “You’re just standing in the heart of my empire, hoping I’ll show you mercy.”

The silence stretched, thick with tension. I could see it in his eyes…the moment the realization sunk in. He wasn’t in control anymore. I was.

Giovanni turned to Carlo, desperation creeping into his voice. “You can’t seriously be letting her run this. She’s a…”

“A what?” I interrupted, my voice cold. “A woman? Is that what you were going to say? Funny, coming from a man whose entire empire is crumbling because of one.”

Giovanni’s face flushed with anger, but he said nothing.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered finally, turning as if to leave.

“Oh, it’s far from over,” I called after him. “This is just the beginning, Giovanni. And when it ends, you’ll wish you’d stayed out of my way.”

He paused at the door, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, I thought he might say something, but he simply shook his head and walked out.

I watched him go, the satisfaction of his defeat warming me more than the fire ever could.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Matteo asked quietly.

“He will,” I said, my voice steady. “But next time, it won’t be to negotiate.”