Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

Day 26.Five days left.I wake up before the sun. The room is quiet, purged of the ghosts of last night.I don't reach for the grey uniform. I don't reach for the black jeans.I open the closet door. The clothes I packed are still on the floor, a pile of black fabric meant for running. But running is plan B.Plan A is winning.I pull out a silk robe. It’s champagne-colored, floor-length, with wide sleeves that ripple like water. Spadino bought it for me weeks ago, a joke about dressing up the doll.Today, the doll dresses herself.I brush my hair until it shines. I pinch my cheeks to bring color to my pale skin. I apply a coat of clear gloss to my lips.I look in the mirror.The girl who counted cracks is gone. The girl who hid in the dark is gone.The Queen is here.I walk downstairs. My bare feet make no sound on the marble, but my presence feels loud.I enter the dining room.The brothers are already seated. They are slumped over their espresso, looking tired, looking defeated. The

The cash from the vault is heavy in my pocket, weighing down the silk of my robe. Fifty thousand euros. Freedom.I made it back to my room before Ciro checked the elevator. I hid the money in the lining of my suitcase. I hid the burner phone in the air vent.I am safe. I am ready.But Aureliano isn't done with me."Get dressed," he says from the doorway. He is leaning against the frame, twirling a set of car keys. His eyes are dark, restless. "We're going for a drive."I put on a black dress. Simple. Severe. Funeral attire for a dead relationship.We take the limo. The partition is up. We sit in silence as the car winds through the city, up toward the hills where the old nobility built their summer palaces.We stop at the Villa Igiea.It is a masterpiece of Art Nouveau architecture, overlooking the Gulf of Palermo. Gardens, fountains, terraces. It is breathtaking.It is also where he is marrying Sofia Greco in four days."Why are we here?" I ask. My voice is tight."Inspection," Aurel

Day 28.Three days left.I am sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at the suitcase hidden under the frame. The fifty thousand euros are sewn into the lining. The burner phone is taped under the drawer.The door bursts open.Spadino.He doesn't saunter. He doesn't smile. He looks like a man who has been chased by demons for forty-eight hours straight. His eyes are wide, manic, the pupils blown so large the gold is just a thin ring.He slams the door shut. He locks it. He leans against the wood, breathing hard."It's too fast," he says.He pushes off the door and paces. The room feels instantly smaller. He is vibrating with anxious energy, a live wire snapping in the wind."Saturday," he mutters. "Saturday is the wedding. Friday you leave. That’s two days. Two fucking days."He stops in front of me. He grabs my shoulders. His grip is tight, frantic."Where are you going?" he demands. "Aureliano said the mountains. But where? Which lodge? I checked the logs. There is no transfer order.

The library door locks with a heavy brass click.I am alone. The air smells of burnt lace and ozone—the lingering scent of Sofia’s threats and my own defiance.I move to the desk. Aureliano’s laptop sits there, a black slab of secrets.I sit in the leather chair. It groans under my weight, smelling of his cologne and long hours of command. My heart is a frantic bird trapped in my ribcage. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.I don't know code. I don't know encryption. But I know people. And I know Luca, the accountant, uses the same password for everything because he is a creature of habit and fear.I open the lid. The screen flares to life, casting a blue, ghostly light on my face.LOGIN.My fingers hover over the keys. They are trembling. Not from cold, but from the sheer weight of what I am about to do.V-I-N-C-E-R-E.To win.I hit enter.The screen unlocks.I don't breathe. I don't celebrate. I work fast, my movements sharp and jerky. Every second feels like a year. Every creak of the house

The room is silent.The only sound is the hum of the air conditioning and the synchronized breathing of three men who have exhausted themselves trying to own something they can't keep.I lie in the center of the bed. My body feels heavy, anchored to the mattress by the sheer weight of their attention. Spadino is curled against my left side, his arm thrown possessively across my waist. Ciro is a solid wall of heat on my right, his hand resting on my hip.Aureliano is not beside me. He is sitting up against the headboard, smoking a cigarette in the dark. The cherry glows bright orange every time he inhales, illuminating the sharp angles of his face.I keep my eyes closed. I regulate my breathing.In for four. Hold for four. Out for four.I have become an expert at feigning sleep. It is the only privacy I have left.The clock on the nightstand reads 04:00.In twenty-four hours, the car will arrive to take me to the "lodge." In twenty-four hours, the hitman Sofia hired will be waiting at