Chapter 68
Vivi
ONE WEEK LATER…
“Mercy Is for the Weak”
Istood at the foot of Marcel’s bed for a long moment before I moved closer. The oxygen mask fogged slightly with each weak breath he took. The curtains were half drawn, letting in that soft French sunlight that made everything look prettier than it really was.
Even death.
“My daughter,” Marcel whispered, voice thin, fragile in a way I had never heard before.
I didn’t answer right away.
I walked closer instead. My heels barely made a sound against the marble.
For a man who built an empire off fear, power, and control…
This was a pathetic way to go.
Flat on his back.
Dependent.
Weak.
I folded my arms across my chest and looked down at him.
“You look tired,” I said, and it wasn’t kind.
It was the truth.
His eyes searched my face like he was trying to find something. Forgiveness maybe.
Comfort.
He was too late for both.
“I won’t be here much longer,” he whispered.
I tilted my head slightly.
“I know.”
His hand twitched against the blanket like he wanted to reach for me, but didn’t have the strength.
“Everything… is in place,” he continued. “Ares… will lead. I made sure of it.”
A small smirk touched my lips.
“You didn’t make him anything. He became that on his own.”
That part mattered to me.
Marcel didn’t build Ares.
He survived him.
There was a difference.
Marcel’s breathing grew heavier, more labored.
“I did what I thought was best… for this family.”
I let out a soft exhale through my nose.
I stepped closer until I was right beside him now. Close enough for him to really see me.
“No,” I said, voice calm but firm. “You did what was best for you.”
His eyes flickered.
I leaned down slightly, just enough so my words didn’t have to travel far.
“You built this family on fear,” I continued. “On control. On secrets.”
My gaze didn’t waver.
“And you expected loyalty in return.”
He swallowed hard, his throat struggling with the effort.
“I tried… to protect you and set you up for the future.”
“Protect me?” I repeated softly. “You’re the reason I had to become what I am.”
I saw the realization in his eyes.
Too late.
Always too late.
The oxygen mask on his face shifted slightly with each breath he took.
Weak.
Dependent.
Temporary.
I reached out slowly… not to comfort him.
But to touch the mask.
My fingers rested against it for a second.
He noticed things were about to take a turn.
His eyes widened just slightly. “Vivi…” he rasped.
I looked at him.
Not as my father.
Not as the man who raised me.
But as the man who shaped everything I had to survive.
My voice was calm when I spoke.
“You don’t get to keep running from the grave.”
I pressed down on the mask, stopping his air.
Just like that.
No hesitation.
No shaking hands.
No second thoughts.
His breathing turned ragged. Desperate.
His body tried to adjust, to fight, but there was nothing left in him to win with.
I watched.
Not with cruelty.
With finality.
“You taught me everything I needed to know,” I said quietly.
His eyes locked on mine, panic flickering behind them as his chest struggled for air.
“And this…” I added, my tone steady, almost reflective, “…is the last lesson.”
Seconds stretched.
Then minutes.
His movements slowed.
Weaker.
Weaker.
Until—
Gone.
The machine continued its low, steady sound like nothing had changed.
But everything had.
I stood there for a moment longer.
Just… acknowledging it was done.
I set the mask back in place like I had never touched it.
Adjusted it.
Wiped it down.
Smoothed the blanket.
Composed.
Perfect.
I was already walking away when I saw Ares standing there.
I already felt him before I even looked at him. I knew he was standing there the whole time.
I turned slightly, meeting his eyes.
He saw it.
All of it.
And I didn’t hide.
Didn’t explain.
Didn’t apologize.
I looked at him, “Now run this family.”
I walked past him.
Like a queen leaving a finished war behind her.