QUEEN OF VERONA

Chapter 3: Ghosts of the Past

Alessandra sat at the head of the long table in the back room of a private club, the chatter of her crew a low hum in the background. The air was thick with smoke, and the scent of whiskey lingered. On the surface, it was business as usual—discussing shipments, bribes, and territory control—but her mind was somewhere else entirely. A name had been circling in her head since the night before, one she hadn’t heard in years: Marcus Hale.

The second Dante had mentioned his return, her heart had skipped a beat, though she would never show it. Marcus wasn’t just a detective back in town—he was her past, a piece of her she thought she’d buried long ago. But Verona Heights had a way of unearthing old secrets, and now he was on her trail.

She didn’t flinch as the meeting went on around her, her fingers lightly tapping the edge of her whiskey glass. She’d been here before—danger on one side, her past on the other—but this time, it felt different. He made it different.

“Alessandra,” Dante’s voice cut through her thoughts. “You with us?”

She looked up, her mask of control slipping back into place instantly. “Always. What’s the update?”

Dante, always sharp, shot her a knowing look but didn’t press. He slid a folder across the table, and she flipped it open. Inside were details on their latest operation—routine business, really—but she barely glanced at it.

“Keep things moving as planned,” she said. “I’ll deal with the rest later.”

Dante nodded, understanding that the meeting was over, and the room cleared out one by one, leaving Alessandra alone with her thoughts. She swirled the last sip of whiskey in her glass before downing it in one smooth motion.

Marcus Hale. She let his name roll around in her mind, memories flashing before her eyes.

---

Five years ago.

She’d met Marcus when she was still climbing her way up the corporate ladder, before her life split into two separate worlds. Back then, she was just Alessandra Cruz, a young, ambitious lawyer with a sharp mind and a fire in her soul. He was a rising star in the police force, a detective with a knack for solving the toughest cases. They’d collided one night at a charity gala—he, looking out of place in his suit, and she, owning the room with her confidence.

Their connection had been instant, electric.

“You don’t seem like the kind of woman who follows rules,” he’d said with that half-smile of his, the one that always melted her defenses.

“And you don’t seem like the kind of cop who writes people tickets for fun,” she’d shot back, her voice playful but guarded.

Their banter had flowed naturally, and before long, they were entangled in each other’s lives. Days turned into nights of passion, quiet mornings in his tiny apartment, and stolen moments in between her cases and his investigations. They understood each other in a way few could—a need for control, an understanding of the darkness in the world.

But Alessandra had secrets—secrets she never intended to share. And Marcus? Marcus was too pure, too committed to the idea of justice, to ever understand the things she was forced to do. So, when her underground dealings had become too big to hide, she’d made a choice. She left him. No explanation. No goodbye. Just gone.

And it destroyed them both.

---

Now, here he was again. Back in Verona Heights. And this time, he was dangerously close to uncovering the life she kept hidden. He thought she was just a lawyer—smart, ruthless in the courtroom, but still on the right side of the law. He had no idea what she had become, how deeply she was woven into the city’s criminal underbelly.

She walked to the window, looking out at the city lights below. Could he really still think of her as just a lawyer? He had to. She’d built her life so carefully, balancing her legal career with her illicit empire, making sure no one—especially him—could see past the mask she wore.

But Marcus was no ordinary detective. He was relentless, and if he got too close, if he started putting the pieces together…

Alessandra felt a flicker of panic deep in her chest but quickly smothered it. She wasn’t the same woman who’d fallen for Marcus all those years ago. She was harder now, sharper, untouchable. If Marcus Hale wanted to come for her, she’d be ready.

Still, there was a part of her—a quiet, dangerous part—that wondered what it would feel like to see him again. To look into those eyes that once saw her as someone good, someone worthy. Could she lie to him again? Could she let him get close, knowing that this time, he’d destroy her if he found out the truth?

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. Another meeting. Another deal. Life moved forward, always.

But as she turned away from the window, she knew that Marcus wasn’t just a problem to be solved. He was her past. And now, he was her future—whether she wanted it or not.

Alessandra grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. The Queen of Verona Heights didn’t flinch. Not for anyone. And not for the ghosts of her past.