Semua Bab Beneath The Surface : Bab 1 - Bab 10

THE THRONE LEFT WARMPov: Carmela CarloThey served me my brother's body in a black box with gold trim. No red ribbon. No note. Just a single bullet between the eyes and his ring-our ring-on his finger.I didn't cry. Not at the funeral. Not when I kissed his cold forehead in front of a hundred fake mourners. Not even when I sat alone in Papa's old office that night, the same desk Tony had claimed just two months ago.No tears. Just plans. The Carlo family doesn't wait for men to step up. If none are left, the women take the knife.And I took it.Three days late, I stirred the espresso in my demitasse with the tip of my pinky. That's how long it's been. No arrests. No names. No answers.Tony's consigliere, Enzo, sat stiff across from me in Papa's leather chair. He hated that I took it, but he didn't have the spine to fight me for it."We're working on leads," he said, voice low. "Some say it was the Del Castillo crew.""They say that every time someone farts." I stood. My heels clicked

BREAKING POINT Pov: Carmela CarloIt was late when I arrived at Trattoria Carlo that evening. The streets outside were quiet, the hum of traffic only interrupted by the occasional siren in the distance. But inside my restaurant, there was always something happening-movement, energy, a pulse. The kitchen was alive with heat and noise, the hum of knives against cutting boards, sizzling pans, and the chatter of the staff.I stood for a moment just beyond the kitchen door, watching Xavier work.He didn't notice me. His concentration was absolute, hands flying over ingredients, eyes focused on the task in front of him. I hadn't expected him to be in such command of the kitchen already, and yet, there he was-leading the team like it was nothing. There was an undeniable grace in the way he worked, but it wasn't just skill that made him stand out; it was the energy around him. His intensity was something that seemed to fill the room, demanding attention even from the most experienced chefs.

INHERITANCE IN BLOOD Pov: Carmela CarloRed Hook always smelled like salt and smoke. Even when the skies were clear, the streets carried the weight of the past-ghosts of old deals, the echo of gunshots long buried under silence. This was our neighborhood. This was our kingdom.And sometimes, it felt like a kingdom built on rotting wood.I sat in the study of the Carlo estate, an aging brownstone overlooking the harbor. The windows stretched tall and narrow like church windows, but there was nothing holy about this place. The scent of old leather and cigars lingered-Tony's scent. My brother had loved this room. He used to pace the floor every night before a deal, muttering names like a priest with a prayer book. Now it was mine.But the room hadn't warmed to me yet."Leo's reappearance complicates things," Gino muttered from across the room. He was our consigliere-a wiry man with a sharp jaw and sharper instincts. "The Rossi Syndicate's been sniffing around ever since Tony died. And n

CARMELA'S REQUEST Pov: Carmela Carlo The air in the penthouse was thick with tension, a silence that felt too loud. I sat at the edge of the marble table, my fingers tracing the rim of a glass, feeling the cold surface beneath my fingertips. Xavier stood across from me, his arms crossed, his face set in that hard, unreadable mask he always wore when he was trying to hide his thoughts. I had watched him long enough to know that he wasn't happy. I could see it in the lines of his jaw, the way his brow furrowed when he thought I wasn't paying attention. Xavier Brooks wasn't one for drama or unnecessary fights, but tonight I knew it was coming. "You've been avoiding me," I said quietly, leaning back in my chair and locking my eyes on him. "I don't like being ignored, Xavier." He shifted, his gaze flicking to the floor before meeting mine again. There was that same defiance in his eyes-the same fire that made him stand out from every other man I'd known. It was why I kept him close,

A SLIPPERY THREAD Pov: Detective Diane Davis There are two kinds of criminals in this city. The ones who hide in the shadows and the ones who flaunt their power in broad daylight like the sun shines for them alone. Carmela Carlo? She was the second kind. I'd been tracking the Carlo family for years—long before Carmela took the reins. Back when Vincenzo Carlo ruled Little Bellavista with an iron fist and a sly smile. But now? Now the reins were in his daughter’s hands, and she wasn’t playing by any rules I recognized. She was quieter, sharper. Every move calculated, like a chess player who's already ten steps ahead And then Xavier Brooks showed up out of nowhere. A nobody. A chef. A man with no criminal record, no past ties to the mafia. But he’d walked straight into the lioness’s den, and he hadn’t walked back out. I sat at my desk in the precinct, a black-and-white surveillance photo spread out in front of me. It was grainy, taken from a street camera near the Carlo estate. Bu