Three years later, I sat by a second-floor window at a grand estate in the English countryside, drinking a cup of black tea.Hollis, the butler, bowed and reported, "Ms. Radcliffe, the 50-carat emerald necklace you sent to auction has been bought by Aurelio Moretti for one billion euros. The money has been transferred to your private account."I nodded, set down my teacup, and gave the order."File the flight plan and ready the jet. I want to be in Italy as soon as possible."Hollis went right away to make the arrangements.I stood up and looked out at the roses beyond the window, as red as fresh blood, and smiled softly.The person I'd texted that day was my aunt, Vittoria Radcliffe.My family didn't let women hold power. My aunt was more capable than any of them, but they never took her seriously.So she cut ties with the Silvestri family, went to England alone, and joined the Radcliffe family, the biggest crime family in the country. Just over ten years later, she was running it.By
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