Chapter 2

Drake came, just like I knew he would. The moment the door was kicked open, the flames in the fireplace flickered.

He strode straight toward me in a few quick steps, the dark barrel of his gun pressing hard against my forehead.

“Violet.” He bit down on my name, like a beast trapped in a cage. “You touch her child, and I’ll make sure you’re buried with her.”

I sat back in the leather chair by the fireplace. I didn’t even stand. Instead, I casually nudged a document forward with my fingertips, sliding the port transfer order to the center of the table.

“Don’t rush into madness.” I looked up at him, my tone as calm as if we were discussing the weather. “I’ve frozen three warehouses under your name, two smuggling routes, and seven offshore accounts fifteen minutes ago.”

The rage on Drake’s face froze instantly, and the color drained from it. His hand, still gripping the gun, began to tremble.

I smiled faintly. My voice was soft, but every word cut deep.

“Drake, you seem to have forgotten something. The reason for your accomplishments today isn’t because you know how to pull a trigger. It’s because I allowed you to live.”

“You investigated me?” He slammed the gun onto the table. His voice dropped low. He was holding back the fury burning in his chest.

“I’m reclaiming what’s mine.” I leaned back into the chair, watching his barely contained anger with quiet amusement. “The Manhattan port district? I built it for you. Those shipping routes you controlled? I laid them out for you. I even picked you up off the street, giving you a life. And now I want it back. Do you have a problem with that?”

He stared at the transfer order for a long moment before finally forcing out a sentence, disbelief written all over his face.

“It’s just a woman. Is it really worth taking it this far?”

“Just a woman?” I repeated his words, slowly turning the empty glass in my hand. “Then why did you let her wear my mother’s necklace? Why did you let her sit in the place that was supposed to be mine? Why did you let her humiliate me in front of the entire New York mafia?”

He fell silent.

I knew him better than anyone. This was never about Lina. Lina and that child she failed to keep were nothing more than a tool to him. He just wanted to see if I, who had spent ten years honing him, my sharpest blade, would crack on my own.

Over the years, he’d built his own power—men, money, connections, and, along with it, a hunger he could no longer suppress. He was no longer satisfied with being the sharpest blade in my hand. He wanted to be the one holding it.

“Drake.” My voice stayed calm, but there was no room for argument. “Starting today, you’re not allowed to come back to our villa.”

A flicker of shock crossed his eyes. “You’re turning on me?”

“I’m not turning on you.” I met his gaze and said, “I’m settling the score.”

I lifted a hand. My right-hand man stepped in immediately, carrying a thick stack of documents and dropping them in front of him. Every dollar he’d siphoned from the family under the name of the port district, every member he’d secretly pulled to his side, and every deal he’d made with outside forces were all there.

His expression darkened with every page. By the time he reached the last one, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He flipped the entire stack off the table, papers scattering across the floor.

“Violet, don’t forget, I didn’t get where I am today because of you alone!”

“Of course.” I looked at him coldly. “There was also the opportunity I gave you, the identity I gave you, and the name I gave you. Without me, you’d still be a stray dog rotting beside a dumpster in Brooklyn.”

The veins at his temples bulged, as if he might lunge at me any second and strangle me. However, in the end, he braced himself against the table, leaning forward as he questioned me through clenched teeth.

“What exactly do you want?”

“Simple.” I met his eyes, without the slightest emotion. “I want you out of my bed, out of my books, and out of whatever shred of feelings I have left for you.”

Drake stared at me for a long time. Then, suddenly, he laughed a low, cold, and unfamiliar laugh.

“Fine, Violet. Don’t regret this. I’ll make sure you pay for this tenfold.” He slammed the door on his way out, leaving his threat behind.

I looked at the closed door, then lifted my glass and took a slow sip.

Regret? The one thing I regretted was never turning on him. I should have left him to die in that alley ten years ago instead of bringing him back with me.