Chapter 29 #3
“What—?” The word comes out as a croak. “What did you do?”
“What I should have done years ago.” He sets the gun on the table and walks around to my side.
“Riccardo was always going to be a problem. His father was the same way. I know you probably don’t remember, but he was reckless, volatile, and convinced he deserved more than he’d earned.
I warned Francesco. About his brother. About Riccardo. About all of it.”
He stops next to me now, so close I can smell the noxious mix of gunpowder and cologne in the air around him.
“He never listened,” Vincenzo says, stroking his chin. “When his brother died, did Francesco learn? No. He coddled Riccardo out of guilt and gave him chance after chance while I stood by and watched this family weaken from the inside.”
“Vincenzo.” I finally find my voice, but it comes out as a ragged whisper. “Why did you bring us here?”
He looks down at me, pity in his gaze. “I brought you here to show you what it means to be a real boss, Adriana. What it means to make the hard choices, one’s nobody else has the stomach for. This is what it means to be in charge, to lead this family.”
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small vial of clear liquid, then places it on the table.
“This is the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make.”
I scramble to get up. His hand clamps down on my shoulder, forcing me back into the chair.
“I didn’t want it to be this way,” he says in a soft voice that is meant to be soothing but slices at my ears like the sharpest razor blades.
“When Francesco went down, I thought you’d refuse the role.
Everyone did. You spent your whole life running from this world.
You were supposed to walk away and let the pieces fall where they belonged. ”
“Oh my God.” The truth crashes over me like ice water. “You were part of it. The gala attack.”
“Eamon needed someone on the inside. Someone Francesco trusted completely.” He shrugs, so casually it makes me want to scream.
“I was tired of being ignored, of giving advice that no one listened to. When Eamon offered me a seat at the new table… the real table, where decisions actually get made for the right reasons… I took it.”
“Eamon. That son of a bitch. He was behind this whole thing.” Realization grips me by the throat and squeezes.
My vision blurs, temples throbbing as the betrayal slices through my heart.
“And you, you traitorous pig, you advised my father to sign that fucking marriage contract. You sat with us in the hospital while we grieved, you swore your loyalty to us, said you’d always be here for us. ”
Rage floods my veins, my vision bleeding red. “My father trusted you. He loved you like a brother.” I lance him with a glare. “We all did.”
“And I love him. I love all of you. But love doesn’t run an empire.” He holds up the vial. “Drink this.”
“Fuck you,” I growl. “You don’t own me.”
“It’s not a request.” His grip on my shoulder tightens. “You can drink it yourself, or my men can hold you down and pour it into you. Your choice. Either way, you will get it down and come with me.”
My eyes dart toward the door, panic gripping me hard. The two men from outside have moved inside, now blocking the exit. There’s no way out.
Fucking traitors. All of them. “You’ll never get away with this,” I say to them. “My father is awake and he will find you. He’ll make you pay.”
Their faces remain stoic. It’s like my words ricocheted off of them, like they’re made of Teflon or some shit.
“By the time your father is aware and awake enough to give orders, he will no longer have anyone to deliver those orders to,” Vincenzo says, a thread of anger in his voice. “Eamon will have already absorbed your organization.”
“Then why use me?” I’m stalling, my mind racing for options that don’t exist while tripping over all of the bombshells exploding between my ears. “Why not just kill me like Riccardo?”
“Because you’re still valuable. The Kozlovs have plans, something about leverage, negotiations. I don’t ask questions.” He presses the vial into my hand. “It’s just something to help you sleep. You’ll wake up somewhere else, and we’ll have a longer conversation about the future.”
The Kozlovs. The fucking Russians? They’ve been behind everything.
Them and… Eamon.
And nobody has any idea.
Sweat beads pop up along my skin. My entire body begins to shake, teeth chattering hard despite the muggy dank air surrounding me.
I look at the vial, then back at Vincenzo.
The man who bounced me on his knee when I was a child.
He taught me to play poker and told me stories about my father as a kid.
He stood by my mother’s side in the hospital and held her hand to comfort her while my father was comatose.
Mom. Luna. Sweet Lord…
“If I do this,” I choke out, “will you swear to leave my mother and Luna alone?”
Pain flickers in his eyes. “They were never part of this. I have no issue with Maria or Luna.”
It’s not a promise. But it’s all I’m going to get.
I raise the vial to my lips.
“I trusted you.” My voice cracks, a gaggle of tears lodging in my throat. “My whole life. You were family.”
“I know.” His voice is sad. “That’s exactly why this worked.”
He nods toward the vial but doesn’t ask again.
He doesn’t need to.
With a shaking hand, I twist open the vial and drink.
I cough and sputter, the bitter liquid burning a path down my throat. Almost immediately, my vision starts to blur. The edges of the room fray.
“That’s it,” Vincenzo says. His voice sounds far away, muffled like my head is submerged in water and he’s on the surface. “Just let it take you.”
I try to stand, but my legs wobble like Jell-O. The floor rushes up. The last thing I see before darkness swallows me is Vincenzo’s face. It chills me because he looks down at me with the patience of a man who has been waiting for this moment for a very, very long time.