Chapter 4

Katherine, emboldened by Antonio's presence and Marco's defense, stepped forward. She held up her hand, and on her finger, glinting malevolently, was the Patriarch's ring. My grandfather's ring. The symbol of the Corleone Don.

"And this?" she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Your mother, Victoria, gave this to me herself. From her own hand. She said I was the future."

The staff gasped. If Victoria had given Katherine the ring, it meant everything. It meant my mother truly had chosen this impostor. It meant my mother was lost to me, or worse.

The air crackled with tension. This was the "proof" that would sway everyone.

I lunged for the ring, a desperate, furious cry tearing from my throat. "That's a lie!"

Rick was faster this time. He stepped in front of Katherine, blocking me, and I saw the glint of metal in his hand. A high-voltage taser. He jabbed it into my side.

Agony. My muscles seized, fire raced through my nerves. I collapsed, twitching, the world a blur of pain.

Through the haze, I saw Katherine's smug face looming over me. She raised her stiletto heel, aiming for my eye.

Even through the pain, instinct took over. I twisted, bucked, my leg lashing out, catching her shin. She shrieked, hopping back, her designer shoe clattering away.

Antonio's voice cut through the ringing in my ears. "Enough of this farce. Rick, secure her hands. She's a danger to herself and others." He looked at me, his eyes cold stone. "And to the Corleone name."

Rick, his face grim, knelt beside me. He pulled something from his jacket. My blood ran cold. It was the custom-made Fairbairn-Sykes dagger I'd given him for his last birthday. Engraved with his call sign: "Ghost."

"Don't do this, Rick," I rasped, the taser's effects still making my tongue thick.

He didn't meet my eyes. He grabbed my right hand, flipped it palm up.

"I'm sorry, Ava," he muttered, but his voice held no sorrow.

Then he brought the dagger down. Not to stab, but to slice. Across my wrist. I felt a sickening, tearing sensation. My fingers went numb. He'd severed the tendons. My fighting hand. Useless.

A raw scream ripped from my throat, pure, unadulterated agony and fury.

"You bastards!" I shrieked, tears of pain and rage streaming down my face. "When my mother wakes up, she'll kill every last one of you!"

Antonio knelt beside me, his face close to mine. His breath smelled of stale coffee and deceit.

"Your mother," he whispered, his voice a silken threat, "is not going to wake up, little Ava. Dr. Carter has made sure of that. The Corleone family, its fortune, its power... and yes, even your precious men... they all belong to Katherine now."

The world tilted. My mother... drugged into a coma by our own family doctor? It was all a lie. Her "attack" was a setup.

A primal rage surged through me, overriding the pain. I lunged, my teeth sinking into the soft flesh of Antonio's ear.

He roared, a sound of pure animalistic fury, scrambling back, clutching his bleeding ear.

Marco, seeing Antonio hurt, went berserk. He grabbed a champagne bottle from a nearby ice bucket and swung it like a club, smashing it against the side of my head.

Stars exploded behind my eyes. Darkness lapped at the edges of my vision. But even as I fell, I noted it: Marco's fierce, almost filial protectiveness of Antonio Perez. There was more to that relationship than I knew.