Chapter 31
The next morning in Dimitri’s office felt like a tomb.
The three brothers sat in various states of devastation, Dimitri behind his desk with his head in his hands, Killian pacing like a caged animal near the windows, Nico sprawled out onto the leather armchair staring at nothing. The silence was suffocating.
“She didn’t do it,” Killian said finally, his voice hoarse. He’d said it three times already in the past hour. “She didn’t fucking do it.”
“We saw the photographs,” Dimitri said, but his voice lacked conviction. He sounded hollow, broken. “We saw the account. Nico confirmed-”
“I know what I confirmed,” Nico snapped, his voice sharp and brittle. “I know what I saw. But it doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.”
Dimitri lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot. “Then explain it to me, Nico. Explain how those photographs exist. Explain how an offshore account in her name has three hundred million dollars in it.”
“The photographs speak for themselves, I’m not saying, that never happened,” Nico whispered. “I’m saying the offshore account is hard to explain, but that doesn’t mean she’s guilty of stealing the money.”
Killian stopped pacing and turned to face them, his massive frame trembling with barely contained rage.
“She told us Victor killed our father, his death was suspicious. She told us he stole from the Valenti’s, we can clearly see she is close to Marco.
She told us he orchestrated the hijack. We have had no reason to ever assume she was lying to us, but what did we do? We threw her out like she was nothing.”
“She could have been working with Marco this entire time, you saw her slap me,” Dimitri said quietly.
“You accused her of being pimped out by Marco Valenti,” Killian shot back, his voice rising. “You called her a whore in everything but name. What the fuck did you expect her to do? You fucking deserved that!”
Dimitri flinched.
Nico’s hands were shaking. “I saw her face when I told her about the account. She looked… she looked so confused.”
“Yes she did,” Killian said bitterly. “I know what people look like when they are truly confused and when they fake it. We killed whatever we had with her the moment we chose Victor’s word over hers.”
“We didn’t have a choice,” Dimitri said, but even he didn’t believe it.
“We always have a choice,” Killian snarled. “And we chose wrong.” The silence returned, heavier than before.
Nico’s voice was barely a whisper. “I think I love her.”
Dimitri closed his eyes.
“I told her that I had feelings for her,” Nico continued, his voice breaking. “We all told her we were falling in love with her. Then we-” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Killian slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster. “Fuck!”
The door opened. Victor walked in, his expression calm, almost serene.
“Gentlemen,” he said smoothly. “I have good news.” All three brothers turned to look at him.
Dimitri’s voice was flat. “What.”
Victor smiled. “The three hundred million has been recovered. It’s back in our accounts as of twenty minutes ago.” The room went still.
Killian’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“The money,” Victor repeated, his tone patient. “It’s been returned. Transferred back through the proper channels. I’ve already confirmed it with our financial team.”
Nico sat up slowly, his analytical mind immediately catching on something. “That’s…that’s not possible.”
Victor’s smile didn’t waver. “And yet, it’s done.”
“No,” Nico said, his voice gaining strength. “You don’t understand. Moving three hundred million dollars through legitimate banking channels takes days. Maybe weeks. There are compliance checks, international transfer protocols, anti-money-laundering regulations-”
“Nico,” Victor interrupted gently. “I assure you, the money is back.”
Nico stared at him. “It’s been less than three hours since we expelled Bea. You’re telling me that in three hours, someone moved three hundred million dollars across multiple jurisdictions, through encrypted offshore accounts, and back into our system without triggering a single regulatory flag?”
Victor’s expression didn’t change. “I’m telling you the money is back. That’s all that matters.”
Nico’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing more.
Dimitri leaned back in his chair, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Why are you here, Victor?”
“To suggest we celebrate,” Victor said smoothly. “We’ve caught the rat. We’ve recovered our losses. This is a victory, Dimitri. We should host a party, a masquerade ball, perhaps. Invite everyone. Show the other families that the Marchetti empire is stronger than ever.”
“No,” Dimitri said immediately.
Victor’s smile tightened. “No?”
“We’re not in the mood for a party,” Killian said, his voice cold.
Victor looked between them, his expression shifting to something almost paternal.
“Gentlemen, I understand you’re upset. But you can’t let one woman-”
“Don’t,” Dimitri warned.
Victor ignored him. “You can’t let one woman’s betrayal destroy your confidence. You did the right thing. You protected the family. Now it’s time to move forward.”
“We said no,” Nico said quietly.
Victor’s jaw tightened. “You’re being childish.”
Killian took a step forward, his massive frame radiating menace. “What did you just say?”
Victor held his ground. “I said you’re being childish. Moping around like lovesick teenagers because you had to expel a traitor. She used you. She played you. And now she’s gone. Move. On.” The temperature in the room dropped.
Dimitri stood slowly. “Get out, Victor.”
“Dimitri-”
“I said get out.”
Victor’s expression twisted into something ugly. “Fine. Sulk in your misery. But don’t come crying to me when the other families start questioning your leadership.”
He turned toward the door, then paused.
When he spoke again, his voice was dripping with venom.
“Hell,” Victor said, his tone casual, almost conversational. “If her pussy was that good, maybe we should’ve just kept her tied up and passed her around.”
For a moment, no one moved. The words hung in the air like poison.
Then Nico exploded.
He launched himself out of the chair with a guttural roar, crossing the room in three strides. His hands locked around Victor’s throat, slamming the older man back against the wall with enough force to crack the plaster.
“YOU FUCKING-” Nico’s voice was unrecognizable, raw and feral.
Victor’s eyes went wide, his hands clawing at Nico’s grip.
“Nico!” Dimitri shouted, surging forward.
Killian was already moving, grabbing Nico around the waist and hauling him backward.
“Let him go! Nico, let him GO!”
Nico’s fingers tightened, his face twisted in rage. “I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking KILL YOU-“
Dimitri grabbed Nico’s wrists and pried his hands away from Victor’s throat. “NICO!” Victor collapsed against the wall, gasping for air, his face red and blotchy.
Nico struggled against his brothers’ grip, his chest heaving. “He doesn’t get to talk about her like that. He doesn’t get to-”
“We know,” Dimitri said, his voice hard. “We know.”
Killian kept his arms locked around Nico, holding him back. “Breathe, brother. Just breathe.”
Nico’s rage slowly bled into something else, something that looked like grief.
Dimitri turned to Victor, his expression colder than ice.
“Get the fuck out of this office,” he said quietly. “And don’t come back, it’s time for you to retire Old. Man.”
Victor straightened, rubbing his throat. His eyes were dark with fury. “You’re making a mistake.”
“The only mistake we made,” Killian said, his voice deadly calm, “was trusting you.”
Victor’s lip curled. “You’ll regret this.”
“Out,” Dimitri said. “Now.”
Victor gave them one last look, something venomous and calculating, then turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Killian slowly released Nico, who slumped forward, bracing his hands on his knees.
“I won’t apologize,” Nico whispered. “I should have killed him, I should have put a bullet in his head, I just-”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Dimitri said. “He deserved worse.”
Killian’s hands were shaking. “Did you hear what he said about her?” “I heard, he will get what is coming to him.” Dimitri said quietly. Nico straightened, his face pale. “We fucked up. We fucked up so badly.” “I know,” Dimitri said.
“We have to fix this,” Killian said. “We have to get her back.” “I don’t know if we can,” Dimitri said, his voice breaking.
Nico looked at him. “We have to try!”
Victor walked down the hallway, his hand still pressed to his bruised throat. His expression was calm. Too calm.
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number he’d memorized years ago.
It rang twice before a gravelly voice answered. “Yeah?”
“Tonight,” Victor said quietly, his voice ice-cold. “Tonight is the night the Marchetti kingdom falls.”
There was a pause. “You sure?”
“Positive.” Victor’s smile was sharp and cruel. “The brothers will die tonight. All three of them. And when the dust settles, I will be the new Don.”
“What about the girl? You know she won’t stay away forever.”
Victor’s expression darkened. “Go take care of that fat bitch. I want her body cold long before the party starts and send her my regards.”
“Understood.”
“And tell the staff to start preparing for the masquerade party tonight,” Victor continued.
“Everyone will be invited. It’s going to be a celebration they’ll never forget.”
“You got it, boss.”
Victor ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He straightened his tie, smoothed down his jacket, and allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. Everything was falling into place.
Isabella Marchetti stood pressed against the wall around the corner, her hand clamped over her mouth to keep from making a sound. She’d heard every word.
Every. Single. Word.
Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.
Victor killed her husband even though that wasn’t the greatest loss.
Victor framed Beatrice.
Victor was planning to murder all three of her sons tonight.
And Beatrice, sweet, fierce, brilliant Beatrice, was marked for death.
Isabella’s hands were shaking. She waited until Victor’s footsteps faded down the hallway, until she heard the distant sound of a door closing.
Then she moved. She had to get to her sons. She had to warn them. She had to save them, and she had to do it now before Victor’s plan unfolded and destroyed everything she loved.
She reached Dimitri’s office and pushed the door open without knocking.
All three brothers were inside, Dimitri standing by the window, staring out at the city; Killian pacing like a caged animal; Nico sitting in a chair with his head in his hands. They all looked up when she entered.
“Mom?” Dimitri said, his voice rough. “What-”
Isabella shut the door behind her. Then she locked it. The sound of the deadbolt sliding into place echoed through the room. All three brothers froze.
“Mom?” Dimitri repeated, his voice sharper now, concerned. “What’s wrong?” Isabella turned to face them, her expression fierce, her hands trembling.
“Victor is going to kill you,” she said, her voice shaking with barely contained fury. “All three of you. Tonight.”
The world stopped.
“What?” Dimitri whispered.
Isabella stepped into the room, her eyes blazing. “I heard him,” she said. “On the phone. In the hallway. He was talking to someone, one of his men, I think. He said tonight is the night the Marchetti kingdom falls. He said the brothers will die tonight. He said he will be the new Don.”
Killian’s face went white. “Mom-”
“He ordered someone to kill Beatrice,” Isabella continued, her voice breaking. “He called her, he called her horrible things and said he wanted her body cold before the party starts.”
Nico made a sound like he’d been punched.
Dimitri felt the floor tilt beneath him.
“What party, Victor was dismissed from his position, we told him no and to leave?” he managed.
“The masquerade party,” Isabella said. “Victor told the household staff to start preparing. He’s inviting everyone. He’s going to kill you in front of the entire family and take over the empire.”
“Fuck,” Killian breathed.
Dimitri’s mind was racing, trying to process, trying to think.
“He killed your father,” Isabella said, her voice trembling. “I’ve known for years. I couldn’t prove it. But I knew. And now he’s framed Beatrice, and he’s going to kill her, and he’s going to kill you, and-and I can’t lose my sons!” Her voice broke.
Dimitri crossed the room in three strides and pulled his mother into his arms.
“We’re not going to die,” he said quietly. “I promise you, Mom. We’re not going to die.” Isabella pulled back, her eyes fierce.
“Then you need to move,” she said. “You need to find Beatrice before Victor’s man does. You need to protect her. And you need to stop Victor before he destroys everything.”
Dimitri looked at his brothers.
Killian’s jaw was clenched, his hands curled into fists.
Nico’s eyes were dark, calculating, already running through scenarios.
“We need a plan,” Dimitri said.
“We need to move now,” Killian countered.
“We need both,” Nico said quietly.
Dimitri nodded. “Agreed.”
He turned to his mother. “Where’s Victor now?”
“He left,” Isabella said. “He walked out the front entrance after making the call. He thinks you’re still in here, mourning the loss of your traitor girlfriend.”
Dimitri’s jaw clenched at the word. “Good,” he said. “Let him think that.” He looked at his brothers. “I’m going to get Bea,” he said. “I’m bringing her back here. I’m keeping her safe.” Dimitri was already moving toward the door.
“Dimitri,” Killian called.
He turned.
Killian’s expression was fierce, protective and desperate.
“Bring her home,” he said quietly.
Dimitri nodded.
Then he was gone, running through the compound, his heart pounding, his mind screaming one thought over and over: Please let me be in time. Please let me be in time. Please…