Chapter 19
I scoff. “This is my city. They built these towers with my money. These streets remember my
name.”
“Not anymore,” he says. “They call you the fool who crowned the maid.”
I throw another vase. It hits the wall, explodes into porcelain confetti.
“Get out,” I say.
He stays for a moment. Pity in his eyes. Then he turns and goes. I get up, stagger toward the window again. Across the skyline, the Rosinni tower gleams like a monument. Her tower now. Lit up like a goddamn crown. I press a hand to the glass and whisper, more to myself than anyone else.
“She didn’t just survive me. She erased me.”
I poured myself another drink–whiskey, neat. The glass was smudged with blood from my shoulder, but I didn’t care. The suite stank of liquor and rage. Shards of crystal glittered across the floor like the shattered pieces of my name. Doris had carved something out of me before she left–something that wouldn’t stop bleeding.
The elevator chimed. I didn’t look.
Footsteps. Fast, pissed–off.
Then his voice, full of heat and bullshit.
“You really did it this time, Dad.”
Lester. My only son. Storming in like he owned the place–dragging Loisa behind him, all plastic and perfume and sharp heels. She looked ready for war in that overpriced coat and gold earrings swinging like knives.
I took a long drink. Didn’t bother turning. “Nice of you to show up, son. Come to check if Daddy’s still breathing?”
He marched closer. “You think this is funny? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
I laughed–dry, broken. “Enlighten me, Lester. You know I love your dramatic little tantrums.”
“If you had known–if you just fucking listened–Mom wasn’t some maid. She was a goddamn Rosinni. The Rosinni. You married the bloodline and didn’t even know it. We were sitting on top of the goddamn mafia world and you pissed it away for Elizabeth.”
That name still burned. I turned, slow, let him see the madness in my eyes.
“You ungrateful little brat. You think this is all my fault? You think I knew she had power like that? No. She was nothing when I met her. Nothing but a girl who mopped my floors and licked my boots clean when I asked. I made her. I gave her my name.”
Lester pointed at the shattered vase like it was the goddamn Holy Grail. “You gave her hell. And now she’s giving it back tenfold.”
Loisa finally spoke, her voice all venom and velvet. “You built a kingdom, Edmund. But you pissed on the crown. Now what? What happens to us? The twins? You think they’ll survive living
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poor after growing up in silk and gold? They’re used to yachts and private chefs. You flushed their world down the toilet.”
She looked down at the broken glass and sneered. “All this because you couldn’t recognize the real diamond just because she wore rags.”
I snapped.
Without even thinking, I slapped her. Hard. Her head whipped to the side, and silence dropped like a hammer.
“Don’t you dare talk to me like you’re anything more than a fucking footnote,” I growled. “You’re just a wife. My son’s damn wife. Shut that painted mouth or I’ll put a bullet through it.”
She staggered back, eyes wide, hand on her cheek. Lester lunged forward, grabbed me by the
collar.
“You’re insane.”
I shoved him off. “Doris was never meant to rise. She was a tool. A servant. Elizabeth had class. Elizabeth looked like something that belonged next to me.”
Lester shouted, spit flying. “She had poison in her veins! She burned us to the ground and walked away smiling! She left us with nothing, Dad! Nothing but debt and disgrace!”
I laughed bitterly. “And now suddenly you give a damn? Now you care about the blood in your veins? Where was this loyalty when you begged me to make Elizabeth your mother? Huh? You were so eager to play prince beside her. Don’t you dare wash your hands now, Lester. You all made your choices.”
He went quiet.
I reached for the gun on the table–didn’t even realize I’d moved. Pointed it at his chest, hand steady.
“Don’t you put this all on me. You were there. You helped me kill her spirit. You stood beside me and watched her clean our floors, watched Elizabeth spit on her, watched her waste away. And now what? Now you want forgiveness because she turned out to be royalty?”
He didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch.
Just stared at me.
And cried.
Pathetic. Weak.
And maybe for the first time in my life–I hated my own reflection staring back at me through his face.
I lowered the gun slowly. Let it rest against the bar. The cold metal kissed the counter, but my rage stayed molten, boiling under my skin.
Lester was still crying. Disgusting.
I lit a cigarette. Took a long drag. The smoke curled in the air like a ghost Doris left behind.
“If she won’t come back to us…” I said, my voice low, calculated. “Then we’ll bleed her through the veins she still calls family.”
Lester looked up–eyes wide, wet, stunned. Like he didn’t expect me to go that far.
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Idiot.
“She wants to play queen? Fine. Let’s see how long her kingdom stands when her pillars start to fall.”
Loisa stepped forward, heels tapping like gunshots. She was composed now. Red mark still fresh on her cheek, but her voice? All business.
“I know a team. Serbians. Used them once in Monaco, years back. They don’t ask questions, don’t leave trails. Ice in their veins. The kind of men who make murder look like art.”
I gave her a glance, one of those sharp, measuring looks that told people I was listening–but also that I didn’t trust a goddamn word until I saw results.
“Are they still alive?”
She smirked. “They don’t die easy.”
“Good.”
I swirled my drink, the ice long since melted, the whiskey warm like blood. Then I looked at Lester, really looked at him. He still had that stunned look, like he was realizing just now who I really was. Who he was born from.
“We start with Angelo.”
