Chapter 6

The one who pushed the door open was the Don of the Falcone family, Vincenzo Falcone.

“Rachel,” he said, his tone as polite as a gentleman’s. “If you’re unhappy in the Medici family, the Falcone family will welcome you with open arms.”

I frowned and replied coldly, “I will always be loyal to the Medici family.”

With that, I brushed past him and walked out of the hospital room.

When I returned to the estate, I ran straight into Victor, who had just stepped out of his car, looking travel-worn. His skin had turned bronze, marked by the Mediterranean sun.

The moment he saw me, he pulled me into his arms and apologized quickly, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I rushed back as fast as I could, but I still couldn’t make it in time to pick you up from the hospital.”

My stomach churned, and I pushed myself out of his embrace.

“Vincenzo came to see me,” I said flatly. “He invited me to join the Falcone family.”

Victor immediately kissed me fiercely, as if trying to swallow me whole.

“That idiot might as well invite me instead,” Victor said, pressing his forehead against mine. “My Rachel will never leave me.”

He gently stroked my back as he added, “I have something to take care of, but I’ve booked us a restaurant for dinner at seven o’clock tonight.”

After Victor left, I returned to my room. I took out the contract he had given me and stared at it blankly. My fingers brushed over my lips, where his taste still lingered. I used to be addicted to it, but now all I wanted was freedom.

So, I took out my phone and called the family lawyer. I was prepared to meet him in person early the next morning. As for Victor’s underground empire, I was going to take it all, quietly.

Maybe out of guilt, Victor reserved a table at one of the most exclusive restaurants to have dinner with me that night. He tried hard to keep the conversation going, but I responded with cold indifference. The warmth between us faded, little by little, until only silence remained. It was so quiet that I could clearly hear the knife slicing through tender steak, like it was cutting into my own flesh.

After dinner, Victor received a phone call. Then, he turned to me apologetically.

“Sweetheart, Nazzolini’s wife is here demanding an explanation. I have to deal with it. I’ll have someone drive you home.”

“No need,” I said with a smile. “The night is beautiful. I’ll walk.”

Victor kissed my cheek, looking regretful, and left in a hurry.

On my way home, a damp cloth with a sharp, chemical smell was suddenly pressed tightly over my nose and mouth before everything went black. When I woke up, I was in a dim room. Sophia was also there, bound beside me.

When Vincenzo saw I was awake, he pulled out his phone and made a call.

“You got the photos, right? Rachel and Sophia are both in my hands.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before Victor’s voice came through.

“State your terms.”

“I can return them both to you unharmed, but I want Brooklyn and Miami.”

After a pause, Victor replied, “Not possible. You can only choose one.”

Vincenzo met my eyes, and his lips curved into a knowing smile.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll take Miami, but business should be fair, and you’ll only get to choose one woman as well.”

As silence fell, my heart pounded violently. I already knew what his answer would be.

Finally, Victor spoke, “I choose Sophia.”

In that instant, my heart sank.

Vincenzo chuckled. “Very well. Have a pleasant evening.”

After hanging up, he ordered his men to send Sophia back. Then, he walked over to me, crouched down, and untied my restraints. He extended his hand.

“My offer still stands.”

I narrowed my eyes but said nothing.

He smiled faintly, then stood up and spoke as if thinking out loud. “You started working for the Medici family at fifteen, and in just six years, you’ve expanded their territory threefold. After you went to prison, Victor lost half his territory, and only after you got out did you help him win it all back.”

He clicked his tongue and suddenly burst into laughter. He laughed so hard that tears formed at the corners of his eyes.

“Yet, that idiot Victor kept the box and threw away the Christmas gift himself,” he sneered and shook his head mockingly. “Rachel, he’s not worth your loyalty.”

He extended his hand again.

“I want you as my blade, and my patience is limited.”

I shook my head. “I refuse to join the Falcone family.”

Vincenzo’s sharp gaze swept across my face.

“I have a better idea.”

I smiled as I reached into my bag and took out the ring that symbolized the Donna, placing it in his palm.

“You can tell Victor this,” I said, locking eyes with him.

My voice was soft, but every word was clear.

“Tell him I’m dead.”