**** Caution ! This chapter may hurt your sensibility !****

"What a surprise ! If I'd expected this !" he greets me, a malevolent smile on his face. "The grieving widow Madini, in the flesh ! How quaint !" he continues.

"Tony Feniosso, the pleasure is all mine," I reply, my jaw clenched, grip tightening around the handle of my weapon.

"And to what do I owe the honor of this visit ?"

I don't have time to respond as Andy takes advantage of the distraction, escaping the grip of the lieutenant, allowing Andrea to take him down. The heavy thud of his body hitting the floor vibrates beneath our feet.

"Unfortunately, you won't live to see the end of this evening," I declare, lowering the hammer of my revolver.

Before I can fire, a bullet lodges in my right shoulder, throwing me off balance. One hand clutching my wound, I stand up, masking my pain, and see Andrea subduing Tony.

Seated on the sofa, his arms are wrenched behind him, and with a bone-chilling crack, Andrea breaks his elbows. A scream of agony pierces the tension, accompanied by the cries and wails of his family. His tear-filled eyes meet mine as his arms fall limp at his sides.

"What did I ever do to you, damn it ?!"

I step slowly toward him and crouch to meet his gaze, my face relaxed, my tone calm as I respond:

"You tell me. Do you have anything to do with Ezio's death ?"

"What ? No ! Even though we were enemies, I wasn't crazy enough to take him on alone !"

"You could have done it with others."

"I wasn't involved in that ! You have to believe me !"

"Then who ?"

"I don't know! Maybe Abiani—he was acting suspicious about it the last time we spoke ! He must know something, but I swear on my children's lives that I had nothing to do with it !"

"Oh, swearing on your own children, that's not very nice," I say, glancing at their angelic faces, twisted in fear. "Whether you did it or not doesn't change your fate. Your world destroyed mine, so I'm returning the favor."

"But you're just a psychopathic bitch! We would never have touched you !"

At his words, I let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Maybe not at first. But once I returned to my career as a singer, with my rising fame threatening you, I would have eventually become one of your targets. It was only a matter of time before you'd come to kill me, to ensure I never spoke of your countless illegal dealings."

"You're completely insane! What's the point of all this? Do you really think an insignificant girl like you can defeat us ?" he spits.

"You took what was most precious to me, nothing matters to me now except revenge. I have nothing to gain; I'll always be haunted by my past and by what I've made you suffer. But knowing that you'll never again reign over this country is enough to soothe my wounded heart," I declare, with an exaggeratedly sorrowful expression.

I stand, stifling a grimace of pain from my shoulder. I take a few steps back and turn to his wife and children, who shrink into the sofa in fear.

"I have a mission for you," I say, pointing at the older of the two children.

"No, please, not my children! I'll do anything you want, but please, not my children," the mother cries.

I look at her, feeling a twinge of pity but remaining detached.

"If only we had the power to choose in situations beyond our control," I announce, feigning sympathy.

I focus again on the boy, who tries to meet my gaze, attempting to be strong for his family.

"How old are you ?"

"Twelve, ma'am."

"Oh, that's a big age, my little man! Do you think you're capable of completing a mission ?"

Without speaking, but with the same intense look he had in the church, he nods his head in agreement.

"Good. I want you to go to the front steps of the house and deliver a message for me. You'll see, I've arranged for cameras and journalists—they'll ask you questions, but you mustn't answer. All you need to say is what I'm about to tell you, okay ?"

He nods again, this time with a focused expression.

"Tell them this: I have a message for you. Rising from its ashes, the phoenix spreads tonight a wave of flames and chaos that will consume each of its prey. Remember it well, okay ? Every word is important and carries its own weight."

He repeats the words softly to himself, embedding them in his memory. Despite the situation, I can't help but admire his courage and feel a pang of empathy for him, as he places all his hope in this mission to save his family.

"My friend will accompany you and give you the strength you need. Once you've delivered the message, quickly return inside, and you can run back to your parents. Got it ?"

He nods, his eyes shining with determination. He disappears through the door, accompanied by Andrea, hidden beneath a hood. I turn back with intensity toward Andy, who is already tying up the parents on the sofa.

"What are you doing ?!" the mother panics.

I ignore her and take the explosives from the backpack Andrea had left behind. I rig the room, the hallway, and the landing, then help Andy finish binding our captives. They struggle, but it's in vain—we overpower them.

The beep of a message sounds, and Andy confirms with a nod that our plan is unfolding as intended. Andrea, now on the ground floor, trapped by the explosives he just planted, is on the steps with the boy. The countdown begins; one mistake and it all falls apart.

As Andy rushes to wake Amadeo, I slowly approach, bag in hand, the boy who stayed by his parents' side.

The grip of reason seizes the syringe, but the heart's grasp keeps it inside the bag. My eyes fixed on the object, trembling slightly under the weight of my shaking hand, I feel my grip loosening, ready to let go.

You don't have to go this far; you can still turn back.

I take a deep breath, pushing away the voice of humanity that could prove fatal.

"You must be impartial and follow through with your plan; otherwise, you risk failing or being killed in revenge," Andrea's words echo in my mind.

In one swift motion, I tear myself from the grip of my heart and pull the syringe from the bag, showing it to the boy.

"It won't hurt, I promise. You might feel a slight sting, but then you'll drift into a deep sleep, where Morpheus will cradle you. Then your mom and dad, along with your big brother, will join you, and you'll all be together for eternity," I say tenderly, trying to mask the tremor in my voice.

He seems soothed by my words and complies gently, despite a slight tensing. Once the Nembutal is injected, the boy closes his eyes, never to open them again. Gazing at his angelic face, now forever at peace, I suppress the voice of my soul, burning with the inhumanity I've just displayed. I remain stoic, not showing the self-loathing that consumes me.

I swear, little man, if I could have done it differently, I would have. But as angelic as you are at your age, you are still the threat of tomorrow.

What have I done ? I condemned Ezio's monstrous act, only to commit the same atrocity weeks later ?

"What did you do to my son, you crazy bitch ?!" the mother shrieks, her fury unbridled.

"In life, sometimes you have to be cruel to survive," I confess in a detached tone, still fixated on the little angel.

I stand, concealing the devastating emotion within as the mother's screams and cries ricochet off the walls. The father remains stoic, his eyes slightly reddened with emotion.

What a bastard.

Regaining my composure, I finally gag them.

I turn and rush to help Andy, who is struggling to lift the slumped Amadeo onto her shoulder. Without a backward glance, we hurry to the French door leading to the balcony. By luck, an external staircase is connected. We race down and speed toward the car left in the garage, along with the van.

We settle Amadeo, who is beginning to stir, his eyelids fluttering, in the back next to Andy. I take the wheel, leaving the passenger seat vacant for Andrea. I exit the garage, and using the remote left in the car, open the gate. I accelerate, leaving the property behind, and park a hundred meters away. Absorbed in the boy's message, no one notices us.

Death reigns silently in the car. Legs twitch, teeth meet nails, and hearts race, depriving us of oxygen.

The wait is unbearable, each minute stretching into an eternity.

"Andrea should have put the brother to sleep by now. The explosion should happen any minute," Andy whispers, unsure if she's trying to reassure herself or inform me.

Barely seconds later, a blast sends debris raining violently onto the street. Mesmerized by the macabre flight of the Feniosso family's fragments of life, I jump, stifling a scream when Andrea's head appears at the window. He circles around and slides into the seat. The door barely closed, I take off, speeding toward the port to switch vehicles.

Upon arrival, we find everything unchanged; the bodies have yet to be discovered. An invisible weight seems to lift from our shoulders as we exchange a quick glance.

We hurry to make the switch, but as I'm lacking strength, Andrea volunteers to ride Amadeo's motorcycle back to my place, where we had planned to regroup.

The adrenaline dissipates, allowing the pain in my shoulder to pierce through. Seeing me wince, Andy takes the wheel. We speed away from the chaos left in our wake—my wake, the wake of the phoenix.