Chapter 18
He flinched. It was small. But I saw it.
“I didn’t know,” he whispered, like he was unspooling a lie he couldn’t finish. “I didn’t know you were a Rosinni. If only I knew from the beginning, I treated you right but you hid it from me. My money turned me against you, Doris. Elizabeth–she fed me poison, told me you were boring. But you weren’t. You aren’t. I see that now. You’ve made your point. Just… come back. We can fi this. We were good, once. Weren’t we?”
I actually laughed.
It echoed in the marble like glass breaking.
“You’re losing everything and now suddenly I had value?” I took a slow step toward him. “You fed me silence for thirty years. Starved me of dignity. You built an empire on my back and called me invisible. Now that it’s crumbling, now that your investors are gone, your wife’s gone, the press is eating you alive–you come here to fix something?”
He took a shaky breath. “You win, Doris. You’ve proved it. You were more than I ever gave you credit for. You were the heart of the business. Just don’t ruin me completely. You’ve made you point.”
I walked until we were inches apart. His breath smelled like regret. I tilted my head, looked him right in those pale, empty eyes.
“I haven’t begun to make my point.”
His lips parted. Nothing came out.
I turned my back to him like he wasn’t even real anymore. Walked toward the open doorway where Lucien waited like a shadow carved out of iron.
I didn’t stop.
“Bury his empire,” I said, voice cool as a blade. “But make him watch.”
EDMUND’S POV
I’m not sure what hour it is, and frankly, I don’t give a damn. The penthouse is quiet except for the rain tapping against the floor–to–ceiling glass like it’s mocking me. Cold place. Too cold.
This penthouse–nobody ever stepped foot in here except Elizabeth. It was our place. Sleek, new not a single fingerprint out of place. Doris never even knew it existed. She had the house, the family home, the pretense. This was real. This was mine.
A bottle of Dalmore sits on the counter, half–gone. Crystal tumbler in my hand, heavier than my patience. City lights stretch out below me, but they don’t sparkle for me anymore. They flicker like warning lights.
Beneath the Surface: Rosinni Heiress Reclaims Legacy. Doris Dominates Market Shares.
Her face on the TV. Calm. Vicious. Alive.
I take the tumbler and hurl it. It hits the screen dead–center. Shatters. The damn anchor keeps talking like he didn’t just get hit with a glass ghost. Her name still spills from the cracked display. Doris. Doris. Doris.
5:21 am DDDD
I sink into the leather chair. My shoulder’s bleeding again–fucking driver couldn’t stitch it right. All that chaos just to get to her. And for what? To be looked at like I was dust on her boot?
She had that look in her eyes today. Like I was a corpse she already buried, and she was just double–checking the grave. Thirty years I gave her, Food, Clothes. The name. She was nothing. A maid with pretty eyes and a quiet mouth. I let her stay, I kept her.
And now she’s on my throne.
I close my eyes, and all I can see is her kneeling on the tiles, wiping my blood off the floor after Elizabeth smashed the glass on me. She didn’t cry. Didn’t ask questions. Just cleaned it like it was routine.
I thought that made her loyal. Turns out it made her patient.
I grab a vase–something Elizabeth picked–and smash it against the wall. Wood splinters, glass rains down. I rip a painting off the wall, some modern thing that cost more than half the staff’s salary for a year. Next goes the chair. Then the framed photo of me and Elizabeth at some gala- ripped in two, frame shattered at my feet.
Panic’s setting in, I can feel it. I grab my phone.
I call Lester first. My son. My heir. The one who was supposed to handle this mess while I bought myself breathing room.
He picks up, but he sounds like he’s halfway through a damn spa day. “Dad. It’s late. I thought you were laying low after today’s… stunt.”
“You smug little shit,” I snap. “Where the hell were you when I needed someone at the board meeting? I was bleeding in the damn atrium of our estate.”
He laughs. Laughs.
1 saw the footage,” he says. “You looked like hell. Doris really let you in?”
“Barely, I was lucky she didn’t finish the job right there.”
“Yeah, well,” Lester mutters, “kind of looks like she already did. Stock dropped eighteen percent since this morning, CFO’s out. Legal says they’re not touching the fraud case unless you wire retainer. I told you this would happen. I told you, Dad-”
‘Don’t you tell me anything,” I growl. “You don’t have the spine. You and your dumb designer suits playing CEO on Instagram–when did I raise such a goddamn coward?”
‘You raised me to watch,” he shoots back. “And I watched you ignore the storm until it hit the goddamn building. You underestimated her. You always did.”
‘I created her,” I say through gritted teeth. “Fed her. Gave her everything. You think she climbec that high on her own? It was my world she learned to walk in. My name she signed under. I made her.”
Lester doesn’t respond. Just heavy breathing.
“You want to be useful?” I continue. “Find something. Dirt. Leverage. I don’t care if it’s a whisper or a corpse–get me something I can use to bring her down.”
He sighs. “Maybe you should… leave Milan, Dad. Just for a while. Lay low, let the fire cool off.”
I grip the phone tighter. “You think I run? From her?”
5:21 am D
“She’s not who she was, old man. She’s got the city eating out of her hand. You’re the ghost now.
He hangs up before I can respond.
Fucking coward.
I toss the phone aside and check my emails.
My lawyer hasn’t responded. My accountant’s in the wind. A ping lights up my screen-“You bank account is temporarily frozen pending audit.”
I sit down on the edge of the bed. My shirt’s sticking to my shoulder, blood soaking through. Every breath hurts.
She was never supposed to matter.
Arturo walks in like he owns the place. My old friend. Last one still standing.
“Edmund,” he says, voice tight, “you need to leave Milan. Now.”
5:21 am DDDD
