Chapter 23-Finale
Vercetti Estate – One Block Away. Hardware Store Parking Lot. 5:12 PM.
The sky was bleeding.
A deep orange, fading into scarlet—like the universe already knew what was about to happen.
I stood still.
Wind catching the edge of my red satin coat.
My heels pressed softly into the pavement.
A folder in my hand.
Not just any folder.
The folder.
Inside it?
Fake Contracts. Signatures. Encryption keys.
Everything Marco ever wanted—
Everything he'd die for.
Everything fake.
I had the fake world in one hand.
And vengeance in the other.
Before I moved, I pulled out my phone.
Texted her.
Me → Valentina:
"Are you okay?
Tonight's the night.
Your father dies.
I need to know this is what you want."
The typing bubble didn't come immediately.
But when it did—
It lasted a while.
Then:
Valentina:
"I was 5 when he let her die.
He stood there.
Did nothing.
My mom didn't deserve that.
I've been waiting for this day my whole life.
I'm okay.
I want him gone."
I exhaled.
Typed again.
Me:
"Meet me down the road. Hardware store lot.
You're not coming to the estate alone.
Capo will be there too."
She read it.
Didn't reply.
I tucked the phone away.
Then turned—
Because two black cars had just pulled in.
Silent. Perfectly timed.
The door opened.
Il Capo dei Capi stepped out.
Tailored suit.
Steel in his eyes.
No guards.
Just him.
He nodded once. No smile.
"Maricella."
"Capo."
He looked at the folder.
"I trust it's everything?"
I handed it to him.
"More."
He opened it, glanced inside—eyes flicking quickly.
Then closed it again with a snap.
"The end of Vercetti begins tonight."
Before I could respond—
I heard the quick sound of heels.
Frantic. Rushed.
She was late.
Of course.
Valentina.
Hair curled perfectly.
Lips stained red.
Eyes already a little glassy.
Wearing all black.
Boots up to her thighs.
She stopped three feet from me.
Chest heaving.
Makeup perfect.
"...I did my makeup," she whispered, almost ashamed.
I tilted my head.
"Why?"
"So you'd look at me like you used to."
I didn't say anything.
Just walked forward.
Lifted one hand.
Brushed a single curl behind her ear.
And then?
I smiled.
The kind of smile that makes kingdoms fall.
"You're perfect."
Her breath hitched.
I turned to the Capo.
Then back to her.
"It's time."
And together?
We walked toward the estate.
One mafia princess.
One ghost in satin.
And the woman who would destroy everything.
Vercetti Estate. Grand Hall. 5:37 PM.
The doors opened like the gates of a kingdom begging to be conquered.
I stepped in first.
Red satin hugging every curve.
Chin lifted.
Neck bare.
Not a jewel on me—
because I didn't need one.
I was the crown.
Marco stood at the far end of the hall, hands open in welcome like this was his coronation.
His suit was black.
Smile white.
Eyes greedy.
The moment he saw me, he lit up like a child seeing fire for the first time.
I walked calmly across the marble floor, heels echoing with each step.
Behind me, Il Capo walked silently.
Gravitas.
Death.
And a storm.
Marco didn't seem fazed.
Yet.
I stopped a few feet from him.
Smiled sweetly.
"I believe a few new faces arrived with me."
I turned, glancing innocently at the Capo.
"Who might they be?"
Marco chuckled, completely unaware he was already halfway buried.
He gestured toward the man standing directly beside me.
"You're looking at one of the oldest pillars of our world, Ms. Maricella.
This is Il Capo dei Capi."
I gasped, hand over heart, as if I hadn't personally sent the location pin and built this entire operation.
"What an honor."
I reached forward.
Il Capo took my hand, bowed slightly—subtle—but enough to tell the entire room where the real power was.
"Likewise," he said, simply.
From the edge of the hall, a figure appeared.
Nervous.
Perfect hair.
Flushed cheeks.
Valentina.
She was standing behind her father.
Fidgeting with her necklace.
Eyes on me like I was the sun.
I caught her gaze.
And winked.
Her knees actually bent.
One hand gripped the column.
Face flushed red.
Marco didn't notice.
Or maybe he chose not to.
Instead, he opened his arms again.
"You've returned. And with everything, I assume?"
I pulled the black leather case from my coat.
Unlatched it.
Flipped it open.
Inside?
Everything.
Fake.
World bank access codes.
Shell companies.
Energy infrastructure.
Satellite frequencies.
Defense keys.
Old money.
New money.
Unregulated wealth.
In one glance?
The world.
"All ours," I said with a smile.
"As promised."
He laughed.
Eyes wide.
Mouth twitching from the power overload.
"This is... it. This is the beginning of an empire."
Then he turned to the Capo.
"You see what I've built? This union—it's the future.
My daughter and Anna.
Bloodlines united.
Power consolidated.
History rewritten."
I turned toward Il Capo.
He took a step forward.
Looked around the room.
Then let his words fall like stone:
"Marriages have power."
Marco nodded.
"And timing is everything," the Capo added.
He looked at me.
I met his eyes.
We both knew.
The clock was ticking.
The end had begun.
But for Marco?
He was still smiling.
Still planning a wedding.
Still standing on the trapdoor.
Vercetti Estate. Grand Dining Hall. 6:04 PM.
The table was long.
Gold-plated forks. Crystal glasses.
Imported wine no one cared about.
Marco sat at the head.
Valentina beside him—barely breathing.
The Capo to his right.
I sat directly across from him.
And I'd never looked calmer.
The fake laughter echoed.
The waitstaff served.
The air reeked of pretense and impending death.
I let them talk.
Let Marco brag.
Let the Capo nod along.
Until I didn't.
Mid-meal, I set my knife down.
Tapped my glass once.
Clink.
Silence.
I looked up, smiling faintly.
"Marco."
He turned, smug.
"Yes?"
I tilted my head.
"Tell me... when was the last time you saw someone die with their eyes open?"
He blinked.
Confused smile twitching.
I didn't let it sit.
Instead, I turned to the maids.
"Could you bring me my glasses, please?
The ones I left in the black case."
They hesitated.
I smiled sweetly.
"And after that, go home.
All of you.
Your shifts are done for the day.
No need to clean up this mess."
They nodded quickly, fleeing like they already felt the storm in their bones.
Seconds later, one of them placed a small velvet box beside me.
I opened it.
And slowly—deliberately—slid the thin, black-rimmed glasses onto my face.
A dead silence.
Marco stared at me like I was becoming someone else.
Because I was.
I folded my hands neatly on the table.
"Good evening, Mr. Vercetti."
"It's me. Emily Stonebrook."
The orphan slut.
The mistake he never finished.
The girl who was supposed to rot on a park bench.
Marco's jaw dropped.
Valentina fake gasped softly, one hand flying to her mouth.
Capo?
Capo laughed.
Full-bodied. Disrespectful.
"You dumb fucking fossil," he spat.
Marco turned to him, furious.
Capo just shook his head.
"You arrogant little corpse. You never once wondered how a 16-year-old was doing global acquisitions faster than your legal team could type."
He gestured at me.
"You handed the world to a girl you tried to kill.
And now she's about to set it on fire while you watch."
Marco stuttered.
"You—YOU—lied to me—"
I shrugged.
"You tortured me once. Tomato, tomahto."
He stood, fists shaking.
I didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Just smiled.
"You called me a useless orphan slut."
Valentina flinched.
I leaned forward.
"And now you're watching that same slut feed your entire empire to the wolves."
The Capo raised his glass.
"To Stonebrook. May her vengeance taste better than your overcooked lamb."
Marco's face turned red.
And for the first time since I entered this house—
He looked scared.
Vercetti Estate. Grand Dining Hall. 6:19 PM.
It happened fast.
Too fast.
Marco's hand slammed against the table, flipping plates and knives into the air.
"You little bitch! You think I didn't see it coming?!"
Guards surged in from the side doors—guns drawn, confusion in their eyes.
The Capo didn't move.
Yet.
He just watched.
I stood instantly, grabbed Valentina's wrist.
"Run."
She didn't ask questions.
We ran through the back corridor, marble echoing under our heels.
Gunshots in the hall behind us.
Glass shattering.
Screams.
"Where are we going?" she gasped, still clutching her necklace.
"To the garden—side exit—Selene's tracking the perimeter—"
That's when I saw her.
Tiny 4'10.
Selene.
Running in, past the fountain, hoodie flapping, tablet in one hand, determined chaos in her eyes.
"EMILY—" she screamed.
And then—
Marco.
Behind a column.
Blade in hand.
He lunged at her with everything he had left.
Rage.
Desperation.
That old mafia poison surging through him like a dying snake.
Selene didn't even see it.
I did.
I didn't think.
I moved.
Steel pierced skin.
My skin.
The knife plunged into my stomach—deep.
Searing.
White-hot.
Selene froze.
Her mouth dropped open.
My breath left my body.
But I didn't fall.
I gripped his wrist, blood spilling down my front, red satin now darker than sin.
Marco snarled, twisting the knife—until—
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
Guards dropped like flies.
The Capo was behind them now, two smoking pistols in his hands.
Expression calm.
Voice low.
"I warned you."
Marco turned just as the Capo pistol-whipped him so hard, the man's body twisted in the air before it crashed to the floor, unconscious.
Silence.
All that was left?
My breathing.
Shaky. Shallow.
Selene caught me.
Tiny arms trying to hold up a collapsing world.
"NONONONONONO—"
Her hands pressed to my wound.
I coughed.
More blood.
More shaking.
I looked at her.
Smiled.
"Hi, angel."
"Don't—fucking—talk—" she sobbed.
"Why would you—why would you—"
"Wasn't gonna let him touch you."
From the side?
"ANNA—"
Valentina's voice.
Running.
She slid into the garden like her soul had been ripped in half.
Saw the blood.
Saw me in Selene's arms.
"NO—"
She dropped to her knees beside us.
Her face crumbled.
"Who did this—WHO—"
"The man you called father," the Capo muttered, loading another round.
Selene sobbed harder.
Valentina leaned over me, holding my hand.
"Please—don't die—"
I gritted my teeth.
Blood in my mouth.
"I'm not... done yet."
Vercetti Estate. Garden Ruins. 7:31 PM.
Pain.
Blinding.
Bone-deep.
But real.
Which meant I wasn't dead.
I was still here.
Still breathing.
Barely.
Selene was beside me.
Tears on her cheeks.
Fists clenched in my shirt like if she let go, the world would collapse.
Valentina knelt on the other side.
Face pale.
Eyes sharp.
Anger shaking in her fingertips.
Marco was on the ground in front of us.
Bleeding.
Cuffed.
Bruised.
On his knees.
And for once?
Silent.
I tried to sit up.
My body screamed.
Blood soaked through the makeshift wrap Selene tied around my waist.
But I forced myself to look at him.
The man who called me an orphan slut.
Who tried to break me.
Who thought the world was his to own.
I stared at him through the blur of tears and exhaustion.
"You lost," I whispered.
"You lost to the girl you thought you left for dead."
He lifted his head.
And then he looked up—past me.
At her.
Valentina.
And he broke into a twisted grin, blood on his teeth.
"You..." he rasped.
"You were supposed to be mine. Daddy's little princess."
Valentina stepped forward.
Calm.
Terrifying.
"I never was."
Silence.
She stood tall. Shoulders back. Chin up.
Marco's eyes widened.
But she didn't stop.
Her voice cracked—but didn't falter.
"I was five."
"And I had to watch you assault her."
"The woman who gave birth to me."
"The woman I looked up to."
"The woman with a heart of gold—reduced to screams and silence in the room I played in."
Marco said nothing.
His breath grew ragged.
Valentina's voice dropped, razor-sharp.
"You didn't just kill her."
"You turned me into a breathing weapon. A girl built to marry, to control, to sell if needed."
She pointed at me.
"You tried to use me as a product. A pawn.
But you forgot something."
She stepped closer. Looked down at him.
"I'm not yours."
"I never was."
He opened his mouth—something half between a sob and a curse—
And then looked at me.
"You... can't kill me."
He was right.
My body was barely holding together.
I couldn't even lift my arm without shaking.
So I looked at the man beside me.
Il Capo.
He nodded once.
No words.
No hesitation.
Just a gun raised.
BANG.
Marco's body hit the ground with a dull thud.
No glory.
No drama.
Just a pathetic, wasted legacy in the dirt.
I exhaled once.
And stayed awake.
Vercetti Estate. Garden. Aftermath of Marco's Death. 7:39 PM.
I was fading.
Like, not poetic fading.
Actual blood-on-marble, warm-light-getting-dimmer kind of fading.
And honestly?
It was getting annoying.
"Okay," I wheezed, looking down at the handle still stuck in my stomach.
"This bitch has GOT to go."
"NO—DON'T TOUCH IT—"
Selene was already crawling over me like a panicked baby lizard with five iPads.
Valentina stormed in from the side, halfway feral.
"You better not—Emily I SWEAR—PUT YOUR HAND DOWN—"
"It's in my actual organs, Valentina—"
"I'M CALLING THE FAMILY DOCTOR."
I blinked.
"What—what the fuck does that have to do with a KNIFE?"
"I PANICKED!"
"WHAT IS A FAMILY DOCTOR GONNA DO? GIVE ME A BANDAID AND ORANGE JUICE??"
Selene was slapping my hand now.
"STOP. STOP. DO NOT—"
"I've had ENOUGH," I muttered, grabbed the handle—
"EMILYYYY—"
—and yanked.
Squelch.
Everyone screamed.
Selene screamed.
Valentina screamed.
I definitely screamed.
Blood splattered.
Valentina almost dropped her phone.
Selene looked like she was going to pass out.
I held the knife up triumphantly, like I'd just pulled Excalibur from my own spleen.
"Victory," I whispered. Then immediately collapsed backward.
Selene caught my head.
"EMILY DON'T DIE—"
Valentina dropped her phone.
"WHY WOULD YOU—WHAT IN THE—WHO GAVE YOU MEDICAL RIGHTS—"
From the side, Il Capo was just standing there.
Arms crossed.
Blinking once every five seconds like this was performance art.
He raised an eyebrow.
"...Should I call someone?"
"YES," Selene and Valentina yelled in unison.
He pulled out his phone dramatically.
Hit a random button.
"Hello? Yes. We need urgent assistance. Knife. Blood. Dying girl. Mafia reasons."
Pause.
"...Yes, she's beautiful. VERY beautiful. No, you can't talk to her—SHE'S BUSY BLEEDING."
He winked at me mid-call.
WINKED.
This old man was enjoying the chaos like it was live TV.
I groaned.
"Selene," I muttered.
"I'm here," she whispered, clutching my hand.
"Valentina."
"I'M RIGHT HERE, YOU EMOTIONAL DAMAGE BITCH ASS."
"...I regret all of my decisions," I mumbled.
Then flopped dramatically to the side.
Limp.
Silent.
Dead.
Selene screamed.
Valentina shrieked.
Il Capo sighed.
"Okay, now she's being dramatic. She's fine."
"NO SHE'S DEAD," Selene yelled.
"OH MY GOD I'M A WIDOW," Valentina cried.
I peeked one eye open.
"...Kinda peaceful like this."
Selene slapped my chest.
Valentina cried harder.
And the Capo?
Still on the fake phone call.
"Yeah. They're both feral. She's fine. No, don't send anyone. I just wanted to watch."
Vercetti Estate. Garden. 7:45 PM.
"Okay. I'm done being dramatic," I mumbled, wiping blood off my chin with the same hand still bleeding from my literal body hole.
Selene was shaking.
Valentina was pacing like a wolf.
Capo was still on his fake phone call like a telenovela villain with snacks.
"Watch this," I muttered.
"EMILY—" Selene squeaked.
I stood up.
Took one step.
Everything tilted sideways.
And then—
Dead.
Like.
Flatline.
Lights out.
No dramatic gasp.
No slow collapse.
Just—faceplant.
UNKNOWN TIME. UNKNOWN PLACE.
It felt cold.
Then warm.
Then kind of floaty.
Voices.
Monitors.
The smell of bleach, and blood, and...
Selene's lemon-scented body spray?
My eyes opened—slow.
Heavy.
Blurred.
Hospital ceiling tiles.
Flashing lights.
Beeps.
My mouth was dry. My head was pounding.
My stomach felt like someone carved out a pizza slice and didn't close the box.
I groaned.
"She's awake!"
Selene's voice.
Half-sob. Half-scream. Fully gremlin.
She popped into view above me—messy bun, wide eyes, eye bags, and a hoodie that probably hadn't been washed in 11 days.
"YOU DIED."
"I... what?"
Valentina appeared behind her.
"You idiot."
"You're beautiful," I whispered.
She sniffled.
"Shut up."
I blinked again.
"How long?"
Selene:
"Twelve days."
Valentina:
"Twelve days of hell.
We had to explain to the doctors that our girlfriend pulled a knife out of her own stomach while screaming about victory."
I coughed.
"Oh right."
Selene burst into tears and hugged me—gently.
Capo entered the room sipping hospital coffee like he owned the building.
"Ah. Lazarus awakens."
I glared at him.
"You fake-called help."
"But real help came, no? What can I say? I'm persuasive."
Valentina sat on the edge of the bed.
Her hand brushed my cheek.
"You died, Stonebrook."
"And still came back hot," I whispered.
She rolled her eyes, fighting a smile.
Selene clutched my arm like a lifeline.
"We thought you were gone."
"Not yet," I whispered.
"But next time? Maybe stop me from pulling the knife out myself."
Valentina smacked my thigh lightly.
Capo lifted his coffee.
"To resurrection. And bad decisions."
Maricella Penthouse. One Week Later. 2:47 PM.
I was finally discharged.
Twelve days dead.
Three near-deaths.
Two blood transfusions.
One dramatic bedside confession where Selene actually barked at a nurse for not fluffing my pillow properly.
And now?
Home.
Alive.
Mostly.
Valentina pushed the wheelchair like she was delivering a queen.
Selene held a clipboard she didn't need, scribbling notes like "Vitals: dramatic. Still hot." and "DO NOT LET HER TOUCH KNIVES."
We got through the doors.
And that's when I saw it.
The Cuddle Pod.
A literal room.
Circular.
Pillowy.
Soft lighting.
Heated floor.
Built like a cloud wrapped in an emotional support womb.
I stared.
"...What in the Studio Ghibli lesbian paradise is this?"
Valentina smiled.
Selene proudly crossed her arms.
"Cuddle Pod," she declared.
"You... built a cuddle pod."
"YOU DID!." she screamed, already dragging me by the wrist.
Ohhh Right!
Inside the Pod. 2:54 PM.
Soft.
Warm.
Every time I moved, I was swallowed by fluff.
"I want to die here," I muttered.
"No," Selene snapped, crawling over me. "You did that already. We're doing living now."
Valentina sprawled on the other side, dramatically flopping into a beanbag shaped like my face.
"I'm not dying for love anymore," she said, arms wide. "I'm dying of secondhand stress from Selene."
Selene ignored her.
Instead, she stared at me like a disappointed mom.
"Did you take your meds?"
I blinked.
"...I'm good."
She narrowed her eyes.
"I said—did you take your meds."
"I felt good—"
From under the pillow, she pulled out a full tray.
A tray.
With food.
Pills.
Water.
Where. The fuck. Did that come from.
Valentina screamed from the beanbag.
"HOW DID SHE DO THAT?? I JUST BLINKED."
"I'm a hacker," Selene said, voice low, terrifying. "I can access DoorDash, Amazon Prime, and black market medicine with my eyelashes."
I stared.
"No."
Selene climbed into my lap.
Held the spoon.
"You're taking every bite, or I'm calling the Capo to come babysit."
"Selene—"
She opened my mouth with her thumb and stuck the spoon in.
Valentina choked laughing.
"She's possessed."
"She's a demon fairy." I coughed mid-bite. "She's gonna be the death of me."
Selene, holding the pill bottle and a spoon like twin weapons of emotional warfare, whispered:
"Not on my watch."
Valentina toasted the air with a juice box.
"To death by tiny girlfriend."
I swallowed the meds.
Leaned back.
Defeated.
In love.
Safe.
"I should've just let Marco kill me."
Selene shoved a spoonful of rice into my mouth.
Valentina cackled into the beanbag.
And me?
I smiled.
Because if I was gonna be manhandled into health by a 4'10 hacker and a mafia princess?
I wouldn't trade it for the world.