The ride back to the mansion was silent.
Rain streaked across the windows of the car as the city lights passed by in blurred lines. Alisha sat in the passenger seat, staring ahead, her thoughts tangled and restless.
Daniel's words kept replaying in her mind.
He controls crime.
She wanted to reject it completely. She wanted to believe Daniel had said it only to manipulate her.
But Marco hadn't denied it.
That was the part she couldn't ignore.
Marco drove without speaking, his eyes focused on the road. His hands were steady on the steering wheel, but something about his silence felt heavier than before.
Alisha finally broke it.
"So," she said quietly, "how much of what he said is true?"
Marco didn't answer immediately.
The car turned into the long driveway of the D'Angelo mansion, its tall gates slowly opening as security recognized the vehicle.
Only when the gates closed behind them did Marco speak.
"Daniel lies when it benefits him," he said.
"That's not what I asked."
Marco exhaled slowly.
"What he said isn't completely wrong."
Alisha Questioned toward him.
"So you do control crime."
Marco parked the car but didn't turn off the engine yet.
"You see the world in black and white," he said. "Good and evil."
"That's how the law works."
Marco shook his head slightly.
"The law only works for people with power."
"And you're one of them."
"Yes."
The honesty in his voice made her chest tighten.
Marco finally turned off the engine and looked at her.
"Do you know what this city looked like before my father took control?" he asked.
"No."
"Chaos."
He stepped out of the car and walked toward the entrance of the mansion. Alisha followed him quickly, not willing to let the conversation end there.
"What does that mean?" she demanded.
Marco pushed open the heavy doors and stepped inside. The warmth of the mansion wrapped around them, a sharp contrast to the storm outside.
"It means gangs were killing each other in the streets," he said. "Human trafficking rings operated openly. Politicians were bribed by whoever paid the most."
"That still sounds like crime."
"Yes."
Marco loosened his tie as he walked through the hallway.
"But now," he continued, "there are rules."
Alisha stopped walking.
"Rules?" she repeated.
Marco turned back toward her.
"My father created a system. One that controlled the violence."
"You're describing organized crime."
"I'm describing balance."
Alisha laughed bitterly.
"You really believe that?"
Marco studied her for a moment.
"You think the police control this city?"
She didn't answer.
"Because they don't," he said quietly. "Money does. Power does."
"And you just decided to become part of that?"
"I didn't decide," Marco said. "I was born into it."
The honesty in his voice made her pause.
For the first time, she noticed the tiredness in his eyes.
"How old were you when your father died?" she asked.
"Twenty-three."
"That's when you took over?"
"Yes."
Alisha tried to imagine being responsible for an empire like that at twenty–three.
It was impossible.
Marco walked toward the staircase.
"Get some rest," he said.
But Alisha wasn't done.
"Marco."
He stopped halfway up the stairs.
"If Daniel is telling the truth about one thing," she said, "how do I know he's not telling the truth about everything else?"
Marco's expression hardened slightly.
"Because Daniel isn't trying to fix this city."
"Then what is he trying to do?"
Marco hesitated.
And that hesitation scared her.
"He wants to destroy it,"
Marco said.
Alisha frowned.
"That doesn't make sense."
"It will."
Marco continued up the stairs, leaving her standing alone in the grand entrance hall.
Hours later, Alisha still and couldn't sleep.
The mansion was quiet, the storm outside finally fading into distant thunder.
She lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
Marco controls crime.
Daniel wants to burn the city down.
Neither option sounded good.
Her instincts as a journalist were screaming at her.
Something was missing.
A piece of the puzzle.
Slowly, she sat up.
If Marco wouldn't tell her everything, she would find out herself.
She slipped out of bed and quietly left the bedroom.
The hallway lights were dim, casting long shadows across the floor. Most of the staff had already gone to sleep.
Alisha moved carefully down the corridor.
She remembered something
Enzo had said days ago.
"Marco's office is the one room in the house you should never enter without permission."
That alone made her curious.
Marco's office was at the far end of the second floor.
The door stood closed.
Alisha hesitated for a moment.
Then she pushed it open.
The room was dark except for the faint light from the city outside the large windows.
Marco's office was surprisingly simple.
A large desk.
Bookshelves.
A few locked cabinets.
Nothing looked obviously suspicious.
But Alisha knew better.
Secrets were rarely left in plain sight.
She walked toward the desk and switched on the small lamp.
Papers were neatly arranged in organized stacks.
Financial reports.
Property documents.
Nothing unusual.
Her eyes moved toward the cabinets.
Each one had a small digital lock.
Of course they did.
Marco wasn't careless.
Alisha sighed quietly.
She was about to leave when something caught her attention.
A small photograph sitting on the corner of the desk.
She picked it up.
The picture showed Marco standing beside an older man.
His father, she guessed.
Both of them were dressed in suits, standing in front of what looked like a large building.
But that wasn't what caught her attention.
It was the date written at the bottom.
Ten years ago.
Alisha frowned.
Something about the building looked familiar.
Very familiar.
She turned the photo closer to the lamp.
And then she realized why.
The building in the picture was the same one Daniel had taken her to during their investigation months ago.
Her heart skipped.
Why would Marco's father be there?
Unless…
Alisha quickly opened her phone and pulled up an old file from her investigation notes.
The building had once belonged to a company suspected of illegal operations.
But the case had suddenly been closed.
No explanation.
No arrests.
Her stomach twisted.
Slowly, she placed the photo back on the desk.
Then she noticed something else.
One of the drawers was slightly open.
Just a few centimeters.
Alisha stared at it.
Marco was too careful to leave things open by accident.
Her hand slowly reached forward.
She pulled the drawer open.
Inside were several folders.
Each labeled with names.
Politicians.
Business leaders.
Police officials.
Her pulse quickened.
These weren't random documents.
They were files.
Detailed files.
On powerful people across the entire city.
Blackmail material.
Evidence.
Control.
Marco didn't just run an empire.
He controlled the people who ran the city.
Suddenly, a voice spoke behind her.
"You shouldn't be in here."
Alisha froze.
Slowly, she turned around.
Marco stood in the doorway.
His expression was unreadable.
"How long have you been standing there?" she asked quietly.
"Long enough."
Her heart pounded.
"I was just—"
"Looking for the truth," Marco finished.
Neither of them moved.
Then Marco's eyes dropped to the open drawer.
Something dark flickered across his face.
"You've seen too much now," he said quietly.
Alisha swallowed.
"What does that mean?"
Marco stepped into the room.
The door slowly closed behind him.
"You wanted answers," he said.
"Yes."
His voice lowered.
"Be careful what you wish for."
Alisha felt a chill crawl down her spine.
Because something in his tone sounded like a warning.
Not for her.
But for everyone else.
Marco reached into the drawer and pulled out a single folder.
Then he placed it on the desk in front of her.
"Open it," he said.
Alisha hesitated.
"What is it?"
Marco looked directly into her eyes.
"The real reason Daniel came back."
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the folder
Inside was a photograph.
A picture of a man she had never seen before.
Under the photo was a single line of text.
TARGET: ALISHA RAHMAN
Her breath caught.
"What… is this?"
Marco's voice was cold.
"It means Daniel isn't just playing games."
Alisha looked up at him.
"Then what is he doing?"
Marco's answer made her blood run cold.
"He's planning to kill you."
Silence filled the room.
But Marco wasn't finished.
"And next time," he added quietly, "I might not be there to stop him."