Chapter 15

Chicago, the penthouse apartment on Grand Ave currently bustling with people.

Charlotte stood under the chandelier by the window, wearing a black silk evening gown that hugged her curves. Her long, thin, straight blonde hair hung down to her upper thigh behind her back. Her pale skin almost most porcelain white under the light. Her light blue eyes were almond-shaped, they held a gentle yet immense amount of pain in them.

Her eyes were focused on the people below, not the guests behind her. She was waiting for the guest to arrive. She didn’t want to waste her time with the rest of the crew. 

Her grandfather’s men could be waiting for her. She feared what he might do if he found her now.

She didn’t want to be in this apartment. Or around any of these people. She’d left this world behind years ago. She should have left this world behind the day she stopped breathing.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Rosalie asks. She sneaked back into Chicago to help Charlotte but she’s been standing at this window for hours. She pulled Charlotte away from the window. 

Charlotte was dragged to where the tables were set up.

The ornate silver brush felt cool against Charlotte’s fingertips, a stark contrast to the simmering anger that pulsed beneath her skin.  She’d spent the last few days meticulously observing Rosalie, Roman’s wife, and her friend, a woman who radiated an unsettling aura of fragility and controlled fury. 

Rosalie’s supposed story, of a love-struck naïve girl, swept off her feet by a charismatic mafia boss, was riddled with inconsistencies, tiny cracks in the carefully constructed façade.

The truth was a lot more chilling. A girl sold by her family. Forced to live with a man she didn’t know and his family. When she first heard of Rosalie she felt like she could be friends with this woman. They both had secrets they didn’t want the world to know about. They both hid a side of them from everyone. 

Charlotte noticed there were two sides to Rosalie. The side she shows the world and then her dark and twisted side. Charlotte summed it up to a way for her to hide her identity and Nightshade. But she felt there was more to it. This other side of hers was more like Elena, Rosalie’s sister.

No one trusted Elena. 

It started with a seemingly insignificant detail: a faint, almost imperceptible smudge of dried blood on the collar of Elena's silk blouse during their first meeting. Blood that didn't match Elena's own type, a fact Charlotte had discreetly confirmed through a sample obtained during a seemingly accidental brush of her hand against Elena's arm. They were Rosalie’s, she’s either been beating her sister or been drawing her blood. 

Then there were always inconsistencies in Elena’s narrative. The dates of her supposed meetings didn’t align with Rosalie’s known whereabouts during that period. Photographs, supposedly taken during their childhood, revealed subtle discrepancies, lighting, backgrounds, even the angle of the sun, all suggestive of different timeframes, different locations. The more Charlotte dug, the more the cracks widened, revealing a foundation of lies.

Charlotte’s sharp intellect, honed over years spent in her clandestine office, began to weave together the fragmented pieces of the puzzle.  She revisited their conversations, paying close attention to the subtle nuances in Elena’s voice, the slight hesitations, the carefully chosen words, the avoidance of direct answers.  

She noticed the tremor in Elena's hand as she recounted a supposedly happy memory, a tremor that belied a deep-seated fear.  The tremor in her hand reminded Charlotte of a patient that was dealing with symptoms of severe poisoning, indicating that Elena might be under some form of duress or influence of medication.

But knowing Rosalie. She might have gotten back at her sister, the more she researched the more she found that the sisters had no love lost. Elena was ruthless, she would kill her own sister to get to the top. Whereas Rosalie wanted to be left alone in her lab. 

she’d learnt a lot about her friend in the short time they’ve spent together. Rosalie was willing to lie to her husband for her. She knew how to sneak around at will and she held an intelligence that not even she possessed. 

Rosalie's jewellery, extravagant and exquisite, revealed clues.  A specific type of emerald, rarely found outside a particular mine in Colombia, a mine controlled by a rival family a family Roman Moretti had been ruthlessly eliminating over the past few months.

Charlotte looked over at Rosalie speaking to another guest at their table. She’s really come out of her shell. 

Rosalie looks her way and smiles. “Is something wrong?” she asks. 

Charlotte shakes her head and smiles back at her. “Just thinking about when is he going to show...” 

“I’ve heard he only shows once everyone is settled. So towards the end of the night. Do you think you’ll be able to convince him? If you’re not sure. I don’t mind stepping in and helping you...” there’s an excited glint in Rosalie’s eyes. 

Charlotte knew she was working on a new brew for her poisons. And she wanted to test it on someone. 

They wanted to go into business with the man, not make an enemy out of him. 

Charlotte gets a ping on her phone. She takes it out. To see an alert on her phone that Alessandro has left the fight club. 

She sighs. She didn’t want him to be here. She knew it would only cuase confusion. He knew of her plan to bring down the Costa family. But he didn’t know she was willing to risk her life to get it. 

“Alessandro left the club. We have three hours before he get’s here...” She warns Rosalie. 

If Roman or Alessandro found out they’ve deceived them things could end badly for them. 

Charlotte thought of him. How long has it been since she last saw him? Why was she thinking about someone she hasn’t seen in at least five years? 

she’s moved on. He was dead and she was moving on with her life. She was married to Alessandro. Though she’d hope to meet him in the afterlife. She had already vowed herself to Alessandro. 

Rosalie knew of her plans to kill herself after her mission was complete and she got her revenge. Rosalie promised to give her a poison that would give her a quick death and not a painful one. Though she didn’t deserve a painless death. She should be punished for living while all of her men were killed right before her eyes protecting her.

“I was thinking I’ll need to be back tomorrow morning. So I’ll book my flight for two and be there before any of them wake up.” Rosalie explains.

“I’ve got a jet it will get you there faster. Why don’t you take it instead. I’m set to return with Alessandro anyway...” Charlotte suggests. 

Rosalie smiles. “Thank you... As long as Roman doesn’t find out I’m here I don’t care how I get back...” 

Charlotte realized she’d actually made a friend. Her personality and her family’s obsessed protection. She’d never made any friends. She was a caged bird up until recently. She didn’t know how to deal with this new found freedom. Having a friend like Rosalie, helped her navigate this new found freedom. The way she’s always there to help Charlotte even when Charlotte didn’t ask for help. 

“I just heard from one of the guests. His downstairs...” Rosalie says.

Charlotte’s heart picked up. It was happening. The beginning of her plan was starting to form. Once she had this deal. she’ll slowly start picking at the rest of her grandfather’s deals.

she’ll form a team that raids her grandfather’s containers until he has nothing but a single penny to his name. Then she’d kill him when he was withering in despair. 

Armed with the data chip, containing all of her grandfather’s plans to take over the Moretti family and the Rossi family. Charlotte found herself found herself feeling an excitement she hasn’t felt before.

It took her weeks to decipher the encrypted data, revealing a network of collusion, betrayal, and murder—a conspiracy that reached the highest echelons of Her grandfather’s organization.

The data confirmed Mirabella's suspicions, her grandfather had big plains for the Costa family. Too bad it would never come to fruition. She was never going to let that happen. The man didn’t deserve to live. He was the reason her family was dead. He wanted to sell his own granddaughter to the highest bidder. A man three times her age. He was old enough to be her grandfather. 

The mere thought of marrying a man life that sent a shiver down her spine. She was covered in disgust. The man had grey hair and no heirs. So she would be forced to give him an heir. If their plan had succeeded. She would much rather kill herself than marry him. 

She was going to use her position to gather information for her grandfather’s rival organization. And use his enemies to kill him. A man who was ready to sell out his own family. She knew he must have even more enemies. 

Many enemies who wanted him dead. She would give them each a piece of him. As gifts of his death. 

Her grandfather always thought that women were nothing but breeding tools. She would show him just how great women really are. Her grandfather sold her mother to her father to help grow his small empire. Her mother got lucky with her father. He father didn’t beat her or expect her to breed children for him.

“He’s here...”