Chapter 35 Lia
LIA
“You have had the wrong idea about me for a long time,” he starts, leaning slightly forward on his elbows. “It’s time to change that.”
I stare at him silently, but my heartbeat accelerates in my chest.
He sighs, leans back, and folds his arms across his chest. “You already know the Society isn’t just a council. It’s a prison wrapped in gold, ruled by men who lost their souls chasing power. The Elders decide who lives, who dies, who breathes, who burns.”
“You’re one of them,” I tell him matter-of-factly.
“You’re right. I was born into it. It doesn’t mean I agree with everything they do. I don’t believe in their ways.”
I narrow my eyes. “Then what do you believe in?”
“Freedom. And… redemption.”
“You called the Society a prison, but you kept me a prisoner under your roof for two years.”
A slight wince crossed his features. “I was trying to buy time.”
“For what?”
He hesitates. Then says, “For what is about to come.”
I stare blankly, waiting for him to get to the point.
He exhales. “The Reckoning Ceremony is when truths are revealed, when the Elders are called to order. Or at least that’s what it used to be. Now, it’s a farce. A public show to make the rulers of the Society seem noble.”
He runs a hand through his hair, and in that moment, I notice how much Francesco looks like him.
“My plan is to bring back the old, ancient tradition, to call the Elders to order. They twist the power they wield to satisfy their own needs. The six seats were meant to serve the people, not dominate them,” he says through clenched teeth.
“It’s why they initially wanted you dead—until Marco convinced them you were more valuable alive than buried. ”
His eyes flash to me. “They wanted you gone the moment they realized Francesco’s loyalty lay with you, not them.”
I shift, pulse quickening. “Let me guess—this is why I’m still breathing, because I’m part of a bigger plan.”
“The only bigger plan here is to save your life,” he corrects me. “To make sure another promising future doesn’t go to waste to protect a useless cause.”
I see the regret thick in his face now, and I know he’s talking about my father.
“You two were close?” I shift closer on the bed.
He looks at me in confusion.
“My father,” I clarify.
He nods stiffly. “Before he became my accountant, he was my friend. We were not very close, but growing up, he was always around me because his parents worked for mine.”
I never knew that. I never knew much about my father’s parents, only my mother’s family.
“I knew he was an upright person. I knew I could count on him not to steal from me or dupe me, which was why I made him my accountant.” A distant smile appears on his face. “I trusted him.”
“The same thing you liked about him was exactly what got him killed,” I say, and a bitter sound slips past his lips.
“I should have known he would suspect that we weren’t just a mafioso family, that we dealt with something deeper and darker. I should have known it would unsettle him. I should have known he would go looking for answers, answers that would end up killing him.”
There’s a small part of me that feels sorry for him, but I shove it to the back of my mind. No matter how remorseful he might be, I am still the victim here.
“Killing your father wasn’t the first mistake I made.”
“What… who was your first?” I ask, my voice steadier than I feel.
He draws in a breath, like he has to prepare himself to say the words.
“My wife.”
His words land hard against my chest. My body tenses, caught between disbelief and curiosity.
“You… killed your wife?” I refuse to believe that.
“No.” His eyes flash to me. “But I am the reason she died.”
Silence hangs in the air between us, the only sound in the room being the slight buzz of electricity coming from the bulb.
“She was the love of my life.”
His voice is broken. It is the first time I’m seeing him this way. I always thought he was an unfeeling monster, but even monsters have their people in this world.
“She was quiet. Gentle. The kind of woman you think the world would protect simply because she had no flaws. No sharp edges.” He glances up at me. “But this world—especially the Society—feeds on the soft ones first.”
I sit up straighter, ignoring the pain wracking through my entire body. “I thought…” I hesitate. “I thought she died by slipping on the stairs.”
He nods again. “That is what happened. They wanted her death to seem like a fluke, a mistake, something that just happened. No one would suspect foul play at that kind of death.”
“So you’re saying…” I finish in a shaky gasp, unable to complete my sentence.
“I was in the middle of a secret investigation of one of the Elders,” Dante starts explaining.
“He broke some Society rules but used his power to cover up his atrocities. I guess someone found out I was onto them. Killing my wife wasn’t just my punishment; it was also a way to destabilize me.
I lost my mind for a while. I couldn’t continue the investigation. ”
A lump forms in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
He looks surprised for a moment, then his mood darkens again. “I don’t deserve your sympathy.”
I gnaw at my lower lip with my teeth.
“When I regained myself over a year later, I realized her death didn’t sit right with me.
I had watched her move through that house for years.
She was a careful woman, slow in speech and movement.
I knew I was reaching when I concluded that she couldn’t have slipped down the stairs.
I began to ask questions about what exactly happened that night.
I tortured a few maids, and that was when I found out that she’d been drunk. ”
His eyes harden as he stares directly at me. “She never drank a drop of alcohol in her life. That was when I knew…”
“They drugged her,” I finish the sentence, and he nods.
“It was in her tea. They put something to make her dizzy. Something that wouldn’t show on an autopsy.”
I don’t speak. I just sit there, listening, trying not to imagine the scene but failing. I have seen the flight of stairs she fell from. She never stood a chance.
“That was the moment,” he says. “That’s when I realized that obeying the Society rules only goes one way. The Elders are allowed to be traitors, but no one else is.”
“Was that when you decided to turn on them?”
He chuckles bitterly. “It was when the seed was planted in my chest. It germinated when Lorenzo broke the rule.”
Lorenzo. The missing Romano son.
No one ever speaks about him, not even Francesco or Marco, and I’ve spent quite a while with them.
“Lorenzo wanted to be initiated into La Mano Nera early. He was desperate to be the youngest member of the Society. I could have stopped him, but he was determined, and further resistance would mean I was trying to come in the way of the custom that every noble-born son must join the Society. So I let him.”
My stomach twists and turns at where this story is going.
“To become a member, you have to kill whoever the Society appoints, without question.” Dante clenches his jaw. “Lorenzo was asked to kill his best friend.”
“No…”
“He didn’t do it,” Dante swallows. “They killed his friend and then went after him next.”
“That’s why he ran away,” I say. Now I can’t help but feel bad for him. He lost his wife and his son, all for what?
“I helped him run.”
I feel it before I hear the door open. A shift in the air, like gravity reorienting. My fingers curl around the edge of the bed. Dante turns, but doesn’t flinch.
Footsteps cross the room, slow and measured.
A man steps into the light.
My breath catches.
He looks just like his brothers. His features are younger, and his movements are softer and slower than those of his brothers, but his eyes are the hardest. He has the same sharp-cut jawline as Francesco, the same haunted stillness, but layered with something deeper.
Shadows. Secrets. Grief.
He’s tall, his dark hair pushed back, and a scar at the corner of his brow. His gaze meets mine and holds.
“This is Lorenzo,” Dante announces.
I notice a small smirk pull at the corner of his lips, but it disappears almost immediately.
“I see you’re the girl who made two of my brothers go crazy.”
My mind reels with all the information and revelations I’ve received in this short span of time. I glance between the two of them, stunned silent.
“Why are you telling me all this now?”
“Because you need to understand the full picture. We’ve been planning this takeover for months, and you’re a big part of it. You’re my final reckoning, my chance to right all my wrongs.”
“Who else knows about this… plan of yours?”
“Marco is in on it. We’ve kept Elio out of it for now. We will tell him everything later. Let’s just say he’s the most fearless out of everyone. He fears nothing, even death. He could walk right into his own grave just to make sure we win.”
My chest tightens. “And Francesco?”
“He’s the most important person we need,” Lorenzo speaks up.
“Francesco is planning to burn the whole thing down. He wants to take on the Society. We’ve been watching all his movements and suspicions.
He’s reckless and impulsive, but also necessary for this plan to move forward.
He has all the answers and leverage to take them down but we haven’t exactly let him in on everything just yet. ”
“He needs our support and added strategy,” Dante adds. “He’s been doing everything on his own, but with the three of us supporting him, he’ll be more dangerous than they’ve ever imagined.”
“And what happens to me while all this is going on?” I ask, pressing a hand protectively against my stomach. “What if they find me? I’m sure they’re still searching for me after your men took me.”
“They were never going to kill you,” he says, voice low. “Quite the opposite.”
I freeze.
“The Elders want the child. You’re valuable to them—but only as long as they can control you. The moment they had you in their grip, it would’ve been over. You’d be watched. Locked down. Stripped of every choice.”
He leans in, voice tighter now.
“So I staged your death.”
“What do you mean?”
“They think you were taken from the estate. That someone intercepted you before the Elders could make their decision. They think it was an attack—driven by believers who see your child as the end of the Society’s reign, the beginning of its extinction.”
He exhales.
“I gave my original crew a substitute—a body burned beyond recognition. A few hours later, they found it in a remote industrial park.”
My heart lurches.
“I made sure your medallion was there. The one you wore during the ceremony. Just enough to identify you.”
He meets my eyes.
“They believe you’re dead, Lia. And as long as they believe that, they won’t come looking. It bought us time—to hide you, protect the baby, and figure out what the hell to do next.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me because of this,” Dante adds.
“I still have a long way to go to earn that and make up for all my wrongdoings. The only thing I want from you is for you to stay alive. Francesco is coming for you, whether he thinks you’re dead or not.
I guess he got that trait from me,” he chuckles humorlessly.
“He will burn through every man, wall, and law to reach you. And he’s willing to do it all alone. ”
Silence settles between us, thick and heavy. Then I swallow, hand still on my belly.
“I’m scared,” I admit shakily.
He nods in understanding. “As long as I breathe, no one will touch you or your child.”
Dante rises to his feet.
“I’ll send someone in to clean your wounds. Get some rest. You’ll need your strength soon.”
Then they both turn and walk away, leaving me in the silence of my own thoughts.