11. Victoria Galli
Chapter 11
Victoria Galli
I can barely focus through the buzzing in my head. My chest is tight, hands trembling.
This can’t be real.
I’m standing here, facing the woman who’s supposed to be my mother—but she’s a stranger. Distant. Unrecognizable.
She’s not tied up. She’s in control. Which means—she’s part of this freak show?
She paces like a caged animal, each click of her heels slicing through the silence. Her posture is taller than I remember. Composed. Elegant. Dangerous.
A day ago, we had coffee. One day. Is this the same woman?
I can’t look at her fully. Not yet. But I need answers. I have to ask. I need something to make sense.
“What’s going on?”
“Victoria—”
No answer. Just my name, hanging in the air like a warning.
Is this the “higher up” Eddie mentioned? No. It can’t be. I shake my head, the motion jarring, pain shooting through my ribs—where the poison’s still eating away at me.
“Why are you doing this, Mother?”
The words slip out before I can stop them—raw, exposed. I hate how fragile they sound.
She stops pacing. Tilts her head. A hum slips past her lips as she rests a manicured finger beneath her chin.
That gesture. I know it. It’s how she used to decide—punishment or reward.
And suddenly, I hate myself for remembering. For still knowing how she thinks.
She turns slowly, eyes narrowing with a strange, calculating calmness. There's no remorse there, no regret. Just cold, perfect control.
"Because," she says, stepping closer, "I need Elio to come. And I know exactly how to lure him in. You." She gives a slight smile, almost like she's about to provide me with a secret I'll never forget.
My heart slams into my chest, and I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
She walks over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. The way her fingers trace my skin is tender, and I feel sick because a part of me still wants to lean into the touch and feel her motherly warmth, even though I know it's a lie.
"You—" I cough, "you were behind it all. The Broad Corporation? That's yours?"
My mother nods.
"Why me? Why kidnap? Just let me go—"
"You see," she continues, "I know the De Lucas killed your father." She pauses. "And Elio—he's next. He's going to pay for what he did. It's better this way, for you too, darling."
A wave of heat surges through me, but I fight to keep it in check. I won't cry, not for her.
"Vinny killed Father, not Elio," I grunt, wincing at the sharp pain in my side.
But she doesn't care about the truth, does she? She wants Elio—the man I love—to die for it. Revenge. Taking down the Shadow King.
"Vinny, Don, Elio, Maria—what does it matter? Potato, po-ta-to. That whole family deserves to die." Her voice is smooth, almost amused, but her eyes gleam with something unhinged. "They die, I get revenge, and I take over New Haven's underworld. It's a win-win. Even you must be able to see that. It's what your father would have wanted."
"It's not! He would never have agreed to any of this. He loved Don. And Elio."
I let out a sharp breath, biting back another whimper. My side throbs, pain radiating up my ribs. She steps closer and shoves me upright, relieving the pressure just enough to keep me conscious.
"Darling, you know I hate seeing you like this."
She strokes my hair like I'm a child. Like she's actually my mother. "I want to mend our relationship. I really do."
"Toodles. What a great way to do it—kidnapping, torture, murder," I spit.
She sighs, then grins. "Most of that was Eddie's idea."
What the hell?
I narrow my eyes. "Why do you listen to him? He's just a—boy."
I can't help myself. This woman—this stranger wearing my mother's face—has twisted everything I thought I knew about family.
Her lips twitch, and for a second, I think she might smile. But then she laughs—low, dark, mocking.
"Oh, Eddie?" She tilts her head slightly. "My lover. He'd do anything for me. And I do mean anything."
She steps back, smoothing the front of her dress.
I don't need her to say more. I already know what she means. Eddie's her puppet. The thought sickens me. But somehow, I have a feeling it's the other way around…
I swallow hard. "Be careful." My voice is hoarse. "He's… dangerous."
She chuckles. "Oh, darling, I'm well aware. But he's useful, and I'm quite good at keeping men like him in line. He's not the problem. Elio is. The De Luca family is."
Her face shifts, the mask slipping just slightly. Anger. Grief. It lingers in the tight pull of her brows, in the sharpness of her jaw.
I know that look too well—the ache of losing my father.
I bite down hard on my lip, tasting blood. My hands curl into weak fists.
"Why didn't you come to me?" My voice cracks. "After Papa—we could have… we could have—"
"Could have what?" she snaps. "He was already gone, Victoria. No amount of tears would bring him back."
Her jaw tightens like she's just given away too much.
"We…" My throat burns. "We could have cried. Together."
For a moment, the silence stretches too long. I remember my father's scent, his arm pulling me in after a nightmare, and his deep, steady voice when the world felt like it was caving in.
I clench my teeth. Hard.
She exhales, slow and sharp. Then, her gaze hardens again, the moment gone.
"I don't cry, Victoria," she murmurs. "I act. I get things done. Just like I built my business, and now, I will avenge your father."
"You don't understand," I murmur. "You can't just kill him, Elio. You can't—"
"You think I haven't thought this through?" She interrupts, her eyes hardening. Her hand falls from my shoulder, but not before she strokes my hair tenderly like she's trying to break me.
The irony burns. She wants to be my mother, but she doesn't give a damn about me. She wants Elio dead, and I know she'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.
How did we get here from having coffee?
I stand, finally meeting her gaze. "You're sick. You think you can control everything—everyone. But you're wrong. You won't get away with this."
For a second, just a fraction of a second, I see something shift in her eyes. Doubt? Regret? But then it's gone, masked by that coldness again.
"Oh, but I will. And the De Luca's won't know what hit them–"
Her hand is on my cheek again, this time softer than before, but it feels worse. She leans in, close enough that I can smell the perfume on her neck, the artificial sweetness of it.
"My little girl," she whispers. "You're still my little girl. You've always been. Don't ever forget that."
I want to scream, to tear her hand off me, but I stay still, frozen. I'm trapped. In her grip. In this room.
She pulls her hand away, stepping back just enough to give me space to breathe.
"I know you think you love him. But it's just a fling, a fascination. It will pass once he's gone. You know what they did to your father. What the De Luca’s did to us." She tilts her head.
My stomach drops. I want to say something—anything—to make her stop, but my words catch in my throat.
"You're scaring me, Mom," I finally rasp out.
"Scared?" Susan laughs. "Good. You should be. That'll teach you not to mingle with killers, mafia, traitors."
A pit forms in my stomach. I can't let her do this.
"You sent Eddie after me," I say, the accusation sharp, like a knife scraping across bone. "In the parking lot. That was you, wasn't it?"
Her eyes flicker for a second, a flash of something behind the ice. But she doesn't deny it.
"Yes," she admits. "I thought you'd be more useful if you were... distracted. I couldn't have you running to Elio with news about the Broad Corporation, my perfect front. I don't want to blow my cover. I mean, I will blow it—in time." She smiles. "Eddie can be... persuasive. Am I right?"
My hands are shaking. I don't know if it's the poison or my anger causing it. "What do you want from me, Mother? What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything. Just leave Elio and the De Luca’s alone!"
Her hand comes to my face again, but she's not stroking this time. She's pressing, her grip hard as she forces me to look at her.
"I want you. First, as bait, but I really want you to finally see things my way. Our way. Not Elio's way. You're stronger than that. Better than that. Better than that mafia scum family."
Her thumb caresses my cheek now, not with love but with ownership.
"And once Elio's gone," she continues, "we'll have the De Luca's wiped out, and we'll have everything."
I want to throw up. I want to run. But instead, I stare at her. She's too far gone. She's not the woman who raised me. She's something else. Someone who wants to see everything burn as long as she's the one standing when the ashes settle.
"You want control of the city? You want to take over and make the Galli's—the new mafia?"
She tilts her head, a slow, satisfied nod.
"You're sharp," she says.
"You can't force me into this," I snap, the anger finally breaking through my numbness.
Her smile doesn't falter. "You're already in this, darling. You've always been in it. You just haven't realized it yet."
I shake my head. "I don't want any part of this. I won't be your pawn."
Her grip tightens momentarily, but then she steps back as if done with me. "Don't worry. You'll learn. You always do. You'll see."
Tears press behind my eyes like a dam on the verge of collapse, straining against… everything. I refuse to let it spill. I won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart. But inside, everything is breaking.
A low rumble suddenly cuts through the room's stillness. It starts weak, like a dying engine, but then it builds, steady and relentless—the sound of a car.
I freeze. My breath catches in my throat.
It's Elio.
My mother's gaze sharpens, the corners of her mouth curling into an unsettling smile. "I didn't expect him here this early. He must really… like you."
Her eyes move toward the window, her lips parting slightly as she listens. The car noise grows louder, the engine roaring more clearly now, and then it stops.
"Don't–" I whisper.
And then she laughs. It's quiet at first—barely a chuckle, but there's something off about it, something that makes the hairs on my neck stand on end.
"Elio is here early," she murmurs, almost to herself, as she steps away from me. "Let's see how this plays out."
Her fingers twitch like she's anticipating something.
I can hear the car clearly now, the engine is a full-on growl as it skids to a halt outside. My heart races.
"Just remember," she says in a voice barely above a whisper, "this is all for us. Me, you and your father."
I hear her heels clicking away, the sharp rhythm fading down the hall. I blink, barely able to breathe, my thoughts still a jumbled mess of disbelief, betrayal, and rage. My mother's planning to kill Elio. To kill Celeste, Maria, Vinny. To destroy everything, and for what? Revenge? Power? Maybe both.
The room feels colder now that she's gone. But then, faintly, I hear it.
A murmur, muffled through the thick walls, the sound of Eddie's voice. It's not loud enough to make out the words at first, but it's enough to make me strain forward.
I shift, pressing my ear closer to a crack in the corner's cement wall, trying to decipher the conversation on the other side. I wish I could hear more clearly, but the words come in jagged bursts like broken glass being scraped along the floor.
"Galli in, Galli out," Eddie growls. I blink, my pulse picking up. There's something about how Eddie says it like he's trying to make it fit into some twisted puzzle.
Then I hear more.
Eddie's voice grows clearer and more confident as if he's speaking to someone else, but I can't make out who.
"She's not going to last much longer…." he says, a sickening edge to his tone. "...A new star rises." He pauses.
He's going to kill me?
My stomach clenches. I stumble backward, my mind spinning. No. No, this can't be happening. I press my hand against the wall, trying to steady myself. My breath comes in shallow gasps.
Before I can think further, I hear a faint sound—footsteps approaching. I stiffen, wiping the panic from my face. I can't let Eddie see my weakness. I can't let him know how much his words have shaken me.
The door creaks open, and I force a smile. It's not much, but enough to mask the storm raging inside me.
"Hello, dear Victoria," Eddie says, stepping into the room with that sickening grin of his.
I stare at him, my breath tight in my chest.
"Eddie," I reply, my voice like steel. “Please don’t ki—”
Before he can reply, the door swings open again, and my Mother strides back in, heels clicking sharply against the floor. Her expression is eerily composed as if this is just another business deal.
"It's done," she announces smoothly, dusting nonexistent lint from her sleeve. "I sent twenty men. Jackson, all of them—by now, they're either dead or they will be soon. Elio though—he will be captured. I want to see him suffer, like he made us suffer." She glances at me, tilting her head, watching me closely. "Now, we wait."
The words slice through me, cold and final. My breath stutters. Twenty men.
The walls seem to close in. Blood rushes in my ears.
"Perfect, my love," Eddie purrs, sliding into place beside her like a snake coiling around its master's throat.
And then—
A sharp, deafening crack splits the air.
The room tilts.
For a second, my brain refuses to catch up with reality.
My mother's body jerks as if pulled by invisible strings. Her mouth opens, but no words come—just a strangled, breathy gasp. A crimson bloom spreads across her chest, dark and violent. Her eyes find mine, wide, unfocused.
"No!" My scream rips out of me, raw, frantic.
She stumbles, reaching for something—me?—but there's nothing to hold onto. Her knees buckle. The woman who once held my hand and wiped my tears collapses.
My stomach lurches, a horrible, twisting nausea rolling through me.
A slow, deliberate exhale. A shift in the shadows.
Eddie.
Still holding the gun.
Still standing, completely unbothered, as if he hadn't just murdered her.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I gasp.
He tilts his head, watching the life drain from her eyes like she's nothing more than a pawn removed from the board. Then, as if sensing my horror, he exhales a quiet, almost amused chuckle.
"Galli in, Galli out," he says.
Fuck. That's what he meant.
"Susan's not good for this business anymore," he says, voice almost conversational. "She's too sentimental. Too... emotional. And she was getting a bit too… self-centered."
Is he kidding? Does he not see himself?
He steps closer.
"But you? You're different. You've got what it takes to run this thing, Victoria. You've got the fire. The drive. I can see it."
My pulse pounds. My hands tremble.
He just killed her.
And now he wants me to replace her.
"You're insane!" I shout, the pain searing through my side and climbing up my chest, anchoring me in place.
"We're all a little insane to be in this business, aren't we, sweetie?" he says cold, undressing me with his eyes. There's something in his voice that's familiar.
Where do I know him from?
He moves closer. I'm still on the floor, paralyzed.
Kneeling beside me, he brushes a few stray strands of hair from my forehead, his touch gentle. His fingers lift my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes—deep brown, unreadable—search mine.
Only now do I notice the tight curls framing his face, his hair cropped so short it was easy to overlook before.
"You still don't know who I am, do you?" he chuckles.
"What are you talking about?" I spit out, my voice sharp despite the searing pain in my side.
"Maybe my last name will jog your memory?"
I swallow hard, pushing down the panic clawing its way up my throat. Curls. Brown eyes. That deceptive, sickening charm.
No. No, it can't be—
"Name’s Eduardo Rodriguez. Or just Eddie."
His words strike like a blade to my gut. My breath hitches. My fingers instinctively rub over the chi-rho tattoo on my wrist.
Shit. No.
"I guess Naomi and Peter didn't mention their little brother before you killed them?"
I shake my head, my entire body screaming in protest, but I can't force out a single word.
"Well—tada! Here I am." He grins, wicked amusement gleaming in his eyes. His hand drifts down, tracing a slow path from my knee up my thigh, his fingers creeping toward the edge of my panties. I shiver.
"And damn, did Peter have good taste in women. You and your mother—wow. Just wow. Exquisite. Both of you."
"Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me." I grind the words out through gritted teeth, wincing as the movement sends a fresh wave of pain slicing through my ribs.
He chuckles, unfazed. "Oh, Victoria," he murmurs. "I'll have you in time. You'll see. You'll bow to me eventually, one way or another… We can play nice, or we can play…" He leans in, his breath hot against my skin. "Rough."
His hand moves, stroking up from my apex to my stomach as I jerk, twisting away.
A gunshot rings out.
I freeze.
"Elio—" I choke out, my head snapping toward the sound.
Eddie smirks, his grip tightening as he whispers, "Don't worry about Elio. He's dead soon."
The blood drains from my face.
"And now that Susan's out of the picture, everything will be mine." His fingers graze my jaw, tilting my chin so I can't look away. "And you, Victoria? You'll be mine, too. We'll rule together. You'll be my bride. My queen."
The words feel like poison. I've heard enough—more than enough. I press my hands to my temples, trying to shut out the voices and the vision of Eddie's twisted grin.
"Elio—" I whisper, barely able to form the name through the thick knot in my throat.
"Stop saying his name!" Eddie snaps, his voice is razor-sharp with fury. Before I can react, his hand strikes across my face, a sharp crack cutting through the air. The impact sends me reeling, my cheek burning.
I raise my hand to hit back, but the pain lances through my ribs, stealing my strength. My body crumples, forcing me onto my knees.
Eddie hums in satisfaction, crouching beside me. "I love you like this, Victoria—bent over. Bowed down to my needs." His fingers trace the curve of my jaw, possessive. "You'll learn to love the darker side of me soon enough."
I spit onto the floor at his feet. "Never."
Gunfire erupts, closer this time. Eddie stiffens, drawing his gun in one swift motion. His lips curl into a knowing smirk.
"Soon, amore mio." He leans in, his breath ghosting over my skin. Then, his hand dips between my legs, entering me without warning, then slipping out.
I try to kick him, but he's already retreating, lifting his fingers to his nose and inhaling slowly. "Oh fuck yes. Exquisite scent indeed," he murmurs, eyes burning with promise. "I'll be back for you."
And then—he's gone.
Every muscle in my body tenses. I'm alone.