Chapter 4 Goodbye.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and brace myself for what's coming. I'm about to say goodbye to my younger brother, put him on a plane, and send him far away. He chose to study in London, at one of the most prestigious universities. He'll live comfortably, have all the luxury he wants, and become the man he always wanted to be. I don't see him as a traitor. He never was. And I know that, with a new identity, he'll be safe. Far from our enemies. Of course, under my men's protection.

But he's not going alone.

Vittorio, my godfather, wasn't wrong when he warned me that those unhappy with the vote's outcome would demand a sacrifice. And they did. They wanted proof. They wanted to see if I was willing to cut someone close. And I did. Twice.

Luca wanted to leave. And I wasn't going to let him go alone.

So it was Vittorio who ended up out when they asked me to expel someone important.

My father's sottocapo. My godfather.

My father's second-in-command for nearly forty years. He saw me and my siblings born. A key figure for the Vescari and the entire organization. A respected man.

And as of today, part of the past. He didn't see it coming, and there was nothing he could do. It was already done.

With little ceremony, we said goodbye, the plane took off, and I returned home. It hurts that my brother made that choice, but I am not my father.

I want a renewed Family, one adapted to the new era, leaving behind some of the archaic methods in business. If it were up to them, they'd still be sending messages through their women. That's why I chose the two great minds who will support me during my rule.

Alessio, the Vescari who comes after me, is now my Consigliere -my new advisor-, and Fabio, my Sottocapo -second-in-command. Everything is managed from the 67th floor of the Vescari Holdings building, in the heart of Manhattan.

A tech firm publicly traded, with multimillion-dollar contracts in cybersecurity, artificial intelligence, and defense systems. Our legal face. Our cover. What no one wants to see.

My office takes up the entire corner of the floor. Bulletproof glass walls, minimalist designer furniture, dark steel and marble. The light is sensor-controlled, the climate adjusts automatically, and the desk -a single black, silent, touch-sensitive slab- looks like it belongs in a lab. From here, I can see the Hudson and half the city. It's the perfect place to decide who lives and who dies.

Alessio stands by the screen, reviewing data. Gray suit, spotless shirt, focused gaze. Always sharp. Always two steps ahead. Speaks little, thinks of what others don't even see.

"They killed the boss in Brooklyn," he says without looking up. "His son, Vincenzo Gravano, took over. He's putting things in order. Unlike his father, he doesn't improvise. He knows what he's doing, and he's already moving pieces. Any casualties? Hit him before he hits you."

That's how things work. We fight over territories. They haven't been able to take a single inch of my city, but they have hijacked a few shipments over the past twenty years. My father didn't focus on reclaiming what they took. He hit back harder. Killed two of their sons, took a good chunk of Brooklyn. I want them extinct. I won't forget my mother in a coffin -I'll go after his.

"His mother. I doubt that savage values her, but I want him to watch her go, just like we saw ours lowered into a frozen grave. I won't go after him -I'll go after his family, the way we've done for decades."

"Good. I like it. Let him watch his loved ones die, one by one. Heavy, precise blows. And maybe, finally, we'll cut that tumor out of this blessed land."

"Want to know who's left? His father had four bastards, one's a girl. Legitimate ones? Five -one's a girl, too. He got married recently but barely sees his wife. Only his whores."

That's how rats are -they breed constantly. They have dozens of kids just in case some get killed, instead of protecting them properly. I don't care about his wife. She means nothing in this world.

Except here, in this house, where we aim to have wives like my father's -faithful, devoted, loving. Not everyone marries for love. Here, women are strategic pieces, both socially and symbolically, within the structure of the mafia. And... infidelity is common in men. Women cannot do the same.

"You need to get married soon. To be a Don, you need a family. Pick a respectable woman and get married already. You're about to turn thirty-five."

"Then you get married if you're in such a hurry to breed."

He's pissing me off.

"I'm not the Don, idiot -you are. You need to set the example."

I'm not ready for that commitment yet.

"I want to relax. Can you book the VIP room tonight?"

Alessio smirks. We haven't been to our club in months.

"I ll let Fabio know."

Chiara Gravano

That bastard has kept me locked in his house for almost ten days. He got married, sent all my brothers off to Naples so the fucking Vescari won't kill them. Why not me? Because the bastard arranged my marriage. In a month, I'll be the submissive wife of some other idiot -and I wasn't born to change diapers or be cheated on every time I blink.

"You're not going out. It's not safe, and I don't want you spreading your legs for some random asshole. Save yourself for your husband."

"Husband?! You're worse than Dad!" -At least neither he nor my other brothers wanted to marry me off- "Let me live before you completely ruin my life. You want me to be as miserable as your wife?"

My older brother is a beast who always gets his way, but he's about to learn which one of us is more stubborn.

"Fine. Don't let me go to the club with Lili. Lock me in your ivory tower to keep me pure." -I frown at my own words- "Do you really think I'd give myself to just anyone? I'm not a slut or some gang chick. It's insulting that you'd even think that."

My low, angry tone softens him.

"Princess, don't be mad. You know I adore you. I'm just looking out for you. You're a respectable young woman. Mother raised you to be a good wife."

Mother has put up with a lot from our father. If it weren't a mortal sin, she'd have killed him long ago. He was a terrible husband and an even worse father.

My room is spacious, and I stop looking at myself in the mirror in the long dress I was trying on. He steps behind me and presses a soft kiss to my temple. He watches me in the reflection.

"You're not going." He repeats, then walks away.

"Fine. After dinner, can we have coffee like we used to?"

He hesitates for half a second, then nods.

"Whatever my princess wants."

Bingo.