ANMELDENI next saw Antonio six months later.I had imprisoned him on the top floor of the cliffside lighthouse.When I pushed the door open, he was sitting in a wheelchair, looking out at the churning sea.His once-powerful body had wasted away, and his face was sickly pale.I walked up to him and looked down at him. "Thanks to you, the Moretti family now controls the entire Mediterranean arms trade. Antonio, I’m sitting comfortably on the throne you always wanted."Antonio smiled, resentment filling his eyes.Yet he asked for nothing. He merely sat in silence."Do you regret it, Antonio?" I leaned down, gripped his chin, and forced him to meet my gaze."Regret?"He looked at me, unfathomable emotions churning in his eyes. "In Sicily, regret is the cheapest emotion. I gambled and lost. The price is imprisonment in this lighthouse. I accept the outcome. Do whatever you wish with me."I gave a cold laugh and pulled a photograph from inside my coat.It showed Isabella laboring in a North African
It was deep into the night when we returned to Sicily.Every senior member of the Moretti family had assembled in the great hall.I took the seat at the head of the hall, my father beside me—a public sign that power had formally passed to me.Antonio, meanwhile, was restrained in an iron chair at the center of the hall."Under our family’s rules, Antonio should be drowned at sea!"Antonio swept his gaze around the room and gave a contemptuous snort.He did not beg for mercy. Not even his gaze wavered."Drowning is too merciful for him." I rose, walked over to him, and toyed with a dagger. "Antonio, didn’t you say being a dog bored you? Didn’t you want to be a king? Now I’ll show you how a king treats a traitor."I slashed the blade down.Antonio grunted, and cold sweat instantly beaded across his forehead.I drove the knife in and severed the tendons in his wrists, then those in his ankles.Blood streamed down the iron chair and pooled dark red on the floor.His body shook violently.B
I sat in the back of the speeding Rolls-Royce. Beside me, Antonio’s hands were bound behind his back.He leaned back and watched the London streets sweep past the window, as calm as if he were on vacation.Antonio spoke without warning, his voice unusually clear in the confined car. "Ophelia, Burns, a London underworld boss known as Silver Fox, has wanted the Medusa route for years. Your father’s disappearance is most likely connected to him."I turned my head and stared at him coldly. "You seem to know a good deal more about this than I expected."Antonio gave a quiet laugh and turned to meet my eyes, amusement flickering in his gaze. "In Sicily, anyone who wants to stay alive needs informants far beyond the island."The car stopped in front of a private estate.Federico opened my door, and I stepped out in my heels.The cold London wind rushed straight into my coat."Miss Moretti, Burns is here."I inclined my head and walked forward.Two rows of black-clad bodyguards stood at the ga
But I did not kill him. I simply had him taken away.After word of Antonio’s capture spread, loyalties across Sicily shifted with astonishing speed.The families that had once stood on the sidelines arrived at the Moretti estate one after another, bearing lavish gifts and hoping to repair relations.I sat in my father’s old rosewood chair and regarded the stacks of gift inventories without emotion.Federico reported quietly, "Miss Moretti, Isabella requests an audience."I raised an eyebrow. "Let her in."When she entered, I barely recognized her.She was in a wretched state.Tear tracks still marked her face, and her clothes were wrinkled."I've lost, Ophelia." She stood in the middle of the hall, her voice hoarse. "I admit defeat, Ophelia. My father is forcing me to marry a sixty-year-old arms dealer in North Africa in exchange for the right to reclaim the ports. Are you satisfied now?"I set down my wineglass and gave a quiet laugh. "Isabella, when you flaunted Antonio on your arm b
"You were acting from the very beginning, Ophelia." Resentment roughened Antonio’s voice, as if he had finally grasped the truth.I nodded in silence and descended the steps, my heels ringing crisply against the stone.Isabella stood to one side, her face cold and her eyes filled with hatred. "It seems we really did underestimate you, Ophelia!"I swept past her and went straight to Antonio. As I had done so many times before, I straightened his slightly crooked tie. "Antonio, I taught you this: in Sicily, never trust appearances."I gave a quiet laugh and yanked his tie tight. "Look. This is where your choices have led you."Now you probably don’t have enough left in your accounts to buy a single bullet."Antonio closed his eyes. When he opened them again, one corner of his mouth twisted in self-mockery. "You saved my life. If I lose it to you, I can’t call that unjust."The words had barely left his mouth when several black SUVs stopped outside.A door opened, and Isabella’s father, o
Black Gold Auction House.The moment I entered, I spotted Antonio in a prime seat in the front row.Isabella sat beside him, looking equally arrogant.Without drawing anyone’s attention, I followed Federico to a private box on the second floor.The auction began soon afterward.Bidding for the Medusa route opened at fifty million euros.Antonio was clearly determined to win. Each time he raised his paddle, he increased the bid by five million euros.Upstairs, I reviewed the report Federico had compiled.To acquire the route, Antonio had emptied every overseas account he owned.He had even persuaded Isabella’s father to mortgage three Capello family ports in North Africa.He had five hundred million euros to play with that day.The price soared, soon passing four hundred million.Cassano was the only one still bidding against him in the room.Following my instructions, Cassano waited until Antonio thought victory was assured, then casually added another million.The drawn-out game of ca







