Chapter 8

A moment later, I regained control and patted Luca on the shoulder. "Luca, there's no need for this. Check whether all the men are here. If they are, we leave for the cemetery."

Luca shot Victor a vicious glare. "Lydia, everyone's been here for a while. Only certain people showed up late. As far as I'm concerned, people who forget where they came from don't deserve to pay respects to the old Don."

Victor said nothing.

"Enough, Luca," I cut him off before he could continue. "Let's go."

I pushed my wheelchair forward, brushed past Victor, and left the courtyard.

By the time we reached the cemetery, an hour had passed.

Everyone stood in two neat rows, dressed in black suits.

Victor had still brought Demira.

I frowned. By the family's rules, she had no right to be here. Still, as long as she did not cause trouble, I could let it go.

Victor met my eyes, as if he wanted to say something.

I ignored him, placed the white chrysanthemum in front of my father's headstone, and began to give a careful account of the family's business and losses over the past year.

When I spoke of the men we had lost to the Vitali family, my eyes stung.

The sky hung low and heavy. Snow fell without pause, making the cemetery feel even more solemn and desolate.

Guilt weighed on me. I had failed to protect them. They had died for nothing.

"Father, I… miss you—"

Before I could finish, a short burst of laughter rang out from the crowd. In the cemetery's silence, it sounded especially jarring.

Today was my father's death anniversary. I had no desire to turn the scene ugly.

I pretended not to hear it. But each time I tried to speak again, the laugh returned, sharper than before. It was deliberate.

By the third time, I had had enough. I fixed my gaze on Demira and forced down my anger. "What's so funny?"

She jumped, then ducked behind Victor, startled and guilty. Even so, she answered as if she had every right. "I saw two bugs fighting, so I laughed. What's wrong with that?"

If I had not been in a wheelchair, I would have gone over and slapped her.

I forced down the fury rising inside me and said coldly, "Get on your knees. Apologize to my father."

"Victor!" Demira touched her stomach and looked to him for help. "Victor, she scared our baby."

Victor stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. His eyes were full of guilt. "Lydia, she didn't mean it. She's pregnant. It's hard for her to kneel. I'll kneel and apologize in her place."

I did not look at him. Instead, I turned to the men beside me. "By family rules, 30 slaps. Then make her kneel and knock her head on the ground 10 times."

Several men stepped forward at once.

Demira went pale. Tears spilled down her face at once. "Victor, I don't want to kneel. My stomach hurts."

"I'd like to see who lays a hand on her." Victor's voice cracked like a whip as he pulled out a gun and aimed it at me. "Lydia, why do you keep targeting her? I already said I would apologize in her place."

Pain stabbed through my chest. "Victor, are you really pointing a gun at me in front of my father's grave?"

If my father could have seen the boy he raised turn a gun on me for a woman, he would have cut off Victor's right hand himself.

Victor's jaw tightened. "I don't want to do this. I just need you to calm down."

"And if I insist on touching her today?"

"Try it."

I let out a quiet laugh. The more I looked at him, the more like a stranger he seemed.

Even in my previous life, after all the cruel things we had said to each other, it had never come to wanting the other dead.

He was no longer the Victor I had once fallen for. There was no reason to hold back. "You're not in a position to threaten me."

The words had barely left my mouth when I raised my gun and fired.

The shot cracked through the air before anyone could react. Blood burst from Victor's shoulder. His gun fell from his hand and hit the ground.

His eyes reddened as he stared at me. He had clearly never believed I would actually shoot him.

All the color drained from Demira's face. Then, as the men closed in, she panicked. She yanked out the Colt Victor had given her and fired wildly. "Stay back!"

The shot split the air again. This time, the bullet struck my arm cleanly.

Pain exploded through me. Cold sweat broke out across my forehead, and I nearly pitched out of the wheelchair.

"Lydia!"

"Donna!" Luca snapped. Before Demira could process what she had done, he ripped the gun from her hand and slapped her hard enough to make her reel. "You bitch. I'll kill you myself."

He jammed the gun against her forehead.

Victor shouted in panic, "Luca, don't touch her!"

"Oh, go to hell. I've been sick of you for a long time." The moment Victor tried to move, Luca kicked him to the ground and pressed a gun to his forehead as well. "Back when you fought beside the old Don, Lydia loved you, and you were capable, so I respected you. I listened when you gave orders. Now you're nothing but a dog that forgot its master. Die, you bastard."