Chapter 2

The air in the study dropped several degrees.

I didn’t turn around. I only asked Adrian, "Is that what you want?"

He stood by the window with an unreadable expression. A few seconds passed, and he did not deny it.

Vito slammed his palm on the desk. "Nonsense. Elena has lived in Moretti territory for twenty years. Even if she doesn’t marry Adrian, she is still family."

"Godfather," Celeste said softly, "I only think the rules should be clear. Otherwise, people outside will think the future Donna can’t even secure her own place."

Adrian finally said, "If we’re cutting ties, then cut them clean."

I looked at him and smiled, feeling simply absurd.

I had needed my death in the last life to understand this. This time, he handed it to me in one day.

"Fine," I said. "Let’s settle the accounts."

I turned and swept my gaze over everyone in the room.

“After I turned eighteen, Godfather started letting me handle the legal messes no one else wanted to touch. I cleaned up Black Bay Casino within six months and turned it back into profit.”

“The next year, I negotiated Moretti’s thirty-year lease on Saint Harbor, saved two shipping routes, and forced the Lopez family to back off without firing a shot.”

“After that, I built Blackline Logistics out of New York and turned several dirty transport lanes into legal refrigerated shipping and security operations.”

“This year, I took over the early structure of the South Dock redevelopment. The hotels, yacht club, casino licenses, and dock access are not finished yet, but the locked-in contracts already protect hundreds of millions in future value.”

With every sentence, Vito’s face grew heavier. This was not me begging for credit. This was me closing a bill.

"Moretti raised me for twenty years. What I earned for Moretti is enough to repay that debt." My voice stayed calm. "From today on, the family owes me nothing, and I owe the family nothing."

Celeste gave a cold little laugh. "Pretty speech. But what are you wearing that didn’t come from Moretti money?"

She stepped closer and lifted her hand toward my coat.

Before her fingers could touch me, I unbuttoned it myself. "You don’t need to remind me, and you don’t get to put your hands on me."

I took off the black cashmere coat woven with the Moretti shadow pattern and laid it flat on the desk. Then I removed the platinum watch from my wrist and placed it beside the coat.

The metal clasp closed with a soft click that made the study even quieter.

"The family gave me this watch on my eighteenth birthday."

I took out my encrypted phone, the estate access card, and the key to the limited-edition Bentley, then arranged them one by one. "You can have these back too."

Celeste had expected me to crumble. I refused to give her the show.

Adrian’s face looked darker than I had ever seen it. He stared at me as if he wanted to speak, but something had lodged in his throat.

I ignored him.

I swallowed the last surge of emotion in my chest and slipped off my heels, lined them neatly beside the desk, and unfastened my shirt cuffs.

Vito shot to his feet. "Elena, you don’t have to do this."

"Godfather, rules are rules."

I took off the silk shirt over my black camisole. It was not dignified, but it was enough for me to stand straight. I didn’t cover myself. I didn’t shrink.

Suit jacket, shirt, watch, shoes, access card, car key. I put everything down one piece at a time, as if I were peeling twenty years off my skin.

Celeste’s smile froze. Adrian’s fingers curled tight enough to whiten his knuckles.

When I turned to leave, Vito called softly, "Elena."

I paused for one second.

His eyes held guilt and a silent plea. Neither mattered anymore.

"Thank you for bringing me home all those years ago." I gave him the formal family bow. "But from now on, I am only Elena Vega. I am not the future Donna Moretti raised. I am not anyone’s replacement."

Then I walked out of the study. A red wool cape coat still hung in the storage room behind the house.

Adrian had given it to me on my tenth birthday. It had been big enough to wrap around my whole body back then. Now it barely reached above my knees. Still, it was warm enough to keep me from leaving the estate with nothing.

I put it on and pulled an old, rusty Vespa from the corner.

The scooter was mine too. When I was ten, I had saved coins and bought it from a junkyard. Adrian had laughed and said I looked like a little mail girl riding it. It broke down years later, and everyone forgot about it. I kept asking the old butler to leave it in storage.

When the back gate opened, entertainment reporters and gossip bloggers had already crowded outside.

Flashbulbs hit me like rain.

"Miss Vega, how does it feel to be kicked out of the Moretti family?"

"Is it true you walked away with nothing but an old cape?"

"Adrian chose Celeste. Do you feel pathetic?"

Someone shoved a camera toward my feet and tried to capture my bare soles on the cold stone steps.

I didn’t dodge. I only looked at the female reporter leading them. I knew her face. She had appeared in photos from Celeste’s birthday party the night before. "Move."

Some people laughed. Some stepped back under my stare.

I climbed onto the old Vespa. The engine coughed twice before it finally came alive. Wearing that red cape, I rode out of the Moretti estate through a storm of flashbulbs and mockery.

The wind off the lake cut like a blade. My back stayed straight.

When I turned into a quiet alley, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom blocked the road. Two bulletproof SUVs boxed in the front and back, though none of it felt like a threat.

The window lowered and revealed an old face lined with age but sharp enough to silence anyone on instinct. "Miss Vega."

The old man held an unlit cigar between his fingers. His tone stayed mild. "I’m Victor D'Amico, Chairman of the Commission."

My hands tightened on the handlebars.

The D'Amico family stood at the top of the East Coast pyramid. In my previous life, I spent nearly ten years earning the right to negotiate with them. Now the Commission Chairman had stopped me in person.

"I read your South Dock plan," Victor said. "Moretti threw a diamond into the gutter. I don’t mind picking it up."

He looked at me with no pity in his eyes, only assessment and respect. "Will you come with me?"

I stepped off the old Vespa and stood straight. "It would be my honor."