"Follow me," she commands, rising to her feet.

I comply, my companions following behind.

— "Only you."

I glance at them, and Andrea nods in approval.

We ascend to the upper floor and enter a lounge. Overlooking the city, the room offers a magnificent panorama through its large windows. As I admire the view, Attilia turns on a phonograph. Surprised that such an ancient device still exists and functions, I turn toward it, from which a delicate, somber melody begins to play.

— "It may be sad, but this melody is by far my favorite. It's to this song that I wish to draw my last breath," she confesses, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

— "Since you granted me a favor, I will do the same. I'll let you choose how you want to go."

She smiles at my words before sitting in a chair facing the world outside.

— "I'd like to talk with you while listening to the music, and then, when the record ends, you can kill me however you wish. I won't resist," she adds calmly.

— "You know, you've always inspired me with admiration and respect," I admit, taking a seat across from her. "You ruled your world with an iron fist. You made your place despite your gender and earned respect in a patriarchal universe. You defied tradition by leading a family of only women. You were a source of inspiration and greatness, until you descended into madness and excess."

She lets out a soft laugh, her eyes drifting to the horizon.

— "I never intended to go this far. I was happy when my husband was alive, and we were a thriving family. Everything was going well, and he accepted me for who I was. He loved my character and my ambition. He always supported me, standing by my side as my enemies multiplied over the years. I've always had a feminist soul; I've always dreamed of revolutionizing this world and overturning it. To prove that we, as women, are worth more than just being seen as walking wombs without brains, only good for cooking. I took great pleasure in proving them wrong by doing what they thought I couldn't. I earned their respect—until my husband discredited me completely. It was only after his death that I saw his true face and learned who he really was. Not to mention the countless women he cheated on me with, he paid off my enemies to leave me alone, made deals on my behalf, and struck pacts with all those scum, becoming one of them. In the end, the only man I trusted, the one I believed in and who made me proud, was the one who trampled me in the mud and disrespected me. I thought I had earned their respect and fear, but in reality, I had only bought their pity, paid for by my husband. So yes, I admit I snapped completely and turned to extremism. And then I did all those horrible things to those men and boys, and now that the machine is in motion, what could I do but continue ? Stop and lose my credibility once again ? Better to die, isn't it ?" she confides, her smile both emotional and sincere.

— "And what about Emilia in all this ? Why was she so different from her sisters ? Was she the beginning of your desire for redemption ?"

— "Perhaps... Her story is different from my other daughters'. Not the same father, not the same life. Giacomo was determined to make her a little princess. He wanted her life to be a fairy tale and did everything in his power to make it so. I know what kind of mother I was to my older daughters, and I didn't want the same for Emilia. But in the end, I led each of my daughters to their deaths."

— "From the moment their hearts begin to beat, our children are destined to die. You may have hastened it, but the end was already written for them, just as it is for us."

Her eyes fixed on the distance, her lips curve into a fleeting smile.

— "Don't you find your dear husband's legacy honorable ? Destined to clean up all the messes and enemies he so carefully nurtured ?"

— "Do not compare Ezio to your late husband. Aside from their mafia blood, they have nothing in common."

— "You still see him through the lens of love. But don't tell me his death didn't reveal some of his little secrets, making you question who he really was. Just hearing about my Emilia shook you. Don't lie—I saw it. What did you really know about him, in the end? You want to avenge his death without even knowing who killed him or why. But who's to say he was innocent in all this?"

Her words feel like a dagger to my heart. I remain impassive, though my mind is flooded with all the questions that arise.

— "No matter what you say, you won't change my opinion of him. My vengeance is also for my son, who was truly innocent. I may not know who the murderer is yet, but I know one thing: the mafia is involved, and it deserves to be destroyed at any cost."

My eyes, burning with anger, meet hers, calm and serene. She smiles.

— "May Madini, the resurrected phoenix. Look at you—you've come a long way since you entered our world. I am very proud and happy to see you taking up the torch. A woman in power, self-made, whose reputation commands fear and respect. You are truly formidable and powerful. It's an honor to fall by your hand."

— "You're mistaken. I'm not taking up any torch. I'm simply fulfilling my vengeance, and that's all," I assert.

She laughs again.

— "Oh, my dear, you're in complete denial. You think that after everything you've accomplished, you'll just say it's over? That you'll wake up one morning and be a new person? Trust me, it doesn't work that way. Vengeance is a beautiful driving force, but in the end, it changes you forever. When people learn who you are, you'll become both a target and a mentor. You'll inspire as I once did. You'll be hated as I was. You don't realize it, but you're becoming what you hunt: a mafiosa. And, my dear, you won't escape it because no one will let you run from your destiny, not even yourself. An enemy will pursue you, a friend will ask for your help, and wherever you go, whatever you do, it will cling to you like your shadow. By plunging headfirst into this vendetta, you will lose more than you realize—yourself."

She smiles tenderly at me, her eyes filled with tears of sorrow. I watch her, so moved by her words that I don't even notice the record spinning in silence. It's her voice that brings me back to reality.

— "Go on, it's time. Do what you have to do," she resolves, her gaze fixed on the world she's about to leave.

I take a deep breath as I rise, stepping behind her. I hear her take a deep breath as well as I pull the trigger, robbing her of her final breath. Her head slumps forward, lifeless. I check her pulse at her neck to make sure she's truly gone. Once certain, I leave to rejoin the trio.

By mutual agreement, to conceal my identity, we switch places with Andrea and Amadeo. I let them return to the room where I executed Attilia. After adjusting my disguise and cleaning up most of the blood to avoid suspicion, I discreetly take my place beside Andy in the crowd that Andrea and Amadeo had earlier gathered.

Needing a dramatic reveal, we decided to bring Nume out onto her balcony and attract the crowd's attention, ensuring they would listen.

Once outside and disguised again, I hear the sound of two gunshots fired into the air by Amadeo. A hush falls over the crowd, and all eyes turn toward them. In the midst of the collective horror, Andrea, his face smeared with the blood of Nume's daughters for added effect, begins to speak.

— "Ladies, I present to you your queen, who has drawn her last breath. The blood on me belongs to her four daughters. We are not here for a massacre. Our targets have been neutralized, and you are free to leave if you wish. But if you choose to stay and fight, or if you have ambitions of continuing Attilia's work, we will execute you."

Their response is immediate. The crowd stirs and flows into every corner of the streets. After a few minutes, only about ten women remain. Stoic, hands clasped in front of them, they await their fate. Without hesitation, Andy and I open fire, catching them by surprise, leaving them no chance to retaliate. They fall, one by one, into a pool of blood.

We end our plan by setting the manor and the entire territory ablaze before departing. A new plume of smoke rises into the sky, signaling the final victim of the phoenix.

It's late by the time we step through my door. Exhausted, grimy, and sore from the fights and my injuries, I head to the shower before being patched up once again by Andy.

— "Thanks to you, I'm becoming an expert nurse," she jokes as she finishes stitching me up. "There, all done. It's going to take some time to heal."

— "Thanks, Andy," I say, grateful, before collapsing onto my bed.