LOGINThe long mahogany table still carried the faint smell of gun oil and spilled whiskey from the night before, but tonight it felt different—like the room itself had been holding its breath for three straight days. I sat at the head where my father used to sit, coat unbuttoned, wrists resting on the scarred wood, and watched the men file in one by one. No speeches. No grand toasts. Just the soft scrape of chairs as every single capo found their place, eyes locked on me the way they hadn’t since the day I walked out of Adrian’s life without a single look back. La Signora. The title they’d whispered like a curse and now stood for without a single complaint. My father was buried. The men who’d died because I said go were buried. Adrian was buried twice over. And here I was, thirty-one years old, the same woman who once hid under the bed in the old villa while her mother’s tears hit the floorboards above her, standing here in the middle of it all.The room quieted when they all rose, not in
The room was already too quiet for something that should have been screaming with victory, every capo in the long table lined up like soldiers waiting for the final inspection. I stood at the head where my father used to sit, coat still damp from the walk in the rain, and felt the weight of their eyes on me like it was the first time they’d ever been wrong about me. No crowns. No speeches. Just the simple clink of my glass on the mahogany when I raised it, and the silence that followed like it had been waiting for this exact moment.“Gentlemen,” I said, voice low but steady, the same one that had come out of my throat the night I drove away from Adrian’s apartment without looking back. “You all know what this means. The empire doesn’t change hands tonight. It just stops pretending it was ever mine to begin with.”Don Savio Greco nodded once from the far end, the only one who still looked like he might argue, but he didn’t. None of them did. The contracts were already signed in the nex
I dragged Adrian out of that warehouse, but the streets still smelled like wet asphalt and the copper that had soaked into my coat on the drive back from the graves. I kept the car idling at the curb outside his old building, engine ticking as it cooled, and watched Marco toss him in the trunk like he was nothing more than a bag of dirty laundry. No cuffs on the way in—too messy, too quick—but I knew they’d be on his wrists the second they slammed the doors. My hands were still steady when I killed the engine, the weight of the gun from his own holster now tucked under my coat like it belonged there. Closure. That’s what I called it, even though the word tasted like ash. I didn’t rush the building. The hallway lights were still on, flickering like they always did when the city was tired. I took the stairs two at a time, boots echoing off the cracked concrete, and stopped at the door to his apartment. No knock. Just turned the handle and stepped inside. He was sitting on the edge o
Adrian’s last move landed exactly where I’d planned it—on a Tuesday night in the warehouse district, rain slicing sideways across the streets like I was trying to wash the last of my pride off the pavement before it all drowned. I’d spent two days convincing myself it was the only way: a single text to a handful of contacts I still thought I owned, the one that said the lion’s cub was weakening, the lion’s cub was slipping, the lion’s cub would crack under the weight of one final betrayal. I’d even driven out to the edge of town with the gun loaded and the silencer screwed on, heart hammering like it was the first time I’d ever pulled a trigger. But every mile felt heavier than the last, because every mile brought me closer to the woman I’d once believed I could own forever, and now that ownership was gone.I killed the engine three blocks from her old apartment, stepped out into the downpour, and pulled the hood up like it would hide the man I’d become—nervous, shaking, already tasti
The rain had turned the gravel drive into a sucking mess by the time I killed the engine outside the old chapel, and I sat there a minute longer with the wipers still dripping, staring at the two fresh crosses that hadn’t had time to sink yet. My knuckles were split open from the gym last night—some idiot at the range had thrown a hook that caught the side of my jaw and I hadn’t even felt it until the blood started sliding down my throat—but that was nothing compared to the way my chest felt right now, like someone had reached in and twisted the ribcage slow. No tears. Not in front of anybody. Not even the rain. I just sat there, boots on the dash, coat collar up, and let the silence do the talking the way it always did when the war finally caught up.First the father’s grave. I’d made him wait three days before I drove out here, because some part of me still hoped he’d open his eyes and tell me it was all a mistake. But the headstone was cold granite and the grass around it was alre
Elise's POV“You came alone,” Don Savio Greco said, his voice echoing off the concrete walls of the abandoned factory. “Either you’re very brave or very stupid.”I stood ten feet away from him, rain dripping from my coat, gun heavy in my right hand. The old warehouse smelled like rust and wet concrete. Only four of his men were with him. I had come with none. Nico was somewhere in the shadows, watching. Cain had given me the final piece of my mother’s evidence two hours ago. This meeting wasn’t about negotiation. It was about ending it.“I’m not here to talk terms,” I said. My voice came out flat, tired. “I’m here to finish what my mother started.”Savio laughed, but it sounded forced. He was older than I remembered, face lined with years of power and paranoia. “Your mother was a traitor who got what she deserved. She tried to sell us all out to the feds. You should thank me for stopping her before she destroyed everything.”The words hit like a slap. I felt the anger flare up hot and
Elise's POV I walked into the main hall the next morning and felt every eye in the room shift toward me. No more hesitation. No more testing the waters. Today I wasn’t asking for their respect. I was taking it. Twelve capos sat around the long table. Some looked uneasy. Others watched me with new
Elise's POV The envelope sat on the corner of my desk like it weighed nothing at all. I had been avoiding it for the last hour, moving through other papers, answering messages, doing anything except face what was inside. Finally I picked it up and broke the seal. The pages were crisp and formal. F
Elise's POV The call came at 4:17 a.m. I was half-awake anyway, staring at the ceiling when Marco’s voice cut through the phone, tight and clipped. “Your father collapsed in his study. The doctor’s already with him.” I threw on whatever clothes were closest and ran downstairs barefoot, heart slam
Elise's POV I caught myself staring at Nico’s hands again, the way his fingers traced the lines on the map like he was memorizing every possible way this could go wrong. It was well past midnight. The rest of the estate had gone quiet, but the two of us were still hunched over the big oak desk in t







