My jaw drops, damn near slamming on the tabletop, just as a flash of black appears. Vincenzo’s gun. I recoil and grip the edge of the table.
His fuckinggun?
I had a weird feeling walking into this place, but deep down, I didn’t think… I didn’t really believe?—
“But then again,” he continues, pressing the barrel against Riccardo’s temple, “neither are you.”
I clap my hands over my ears at the sharp crack. The sound shudders my insides and makes my heart leap into my throat where it chokes me as I struggle to find words.
Riccardo’s body slumps forward onto the table. Blood spreads across the surface, dripping onto the concrete floor.
I just stare at him, his eyes vacant and lifeless. I can’t move. Can’t breathe. White noise assaults my ears. My mind spirals, trying to process what just happened, but nothing makes sense. Yes, he was a problem. Yes, he was a liability.
But to kill him like that? In cold blood?
My breaths are shallow and ragged. I clutch a hand over my heart.
I wouldn’t have… I couldn’t have…
Vincenzo lowers the gun and looks at me. His expression is resigned. Almost sad, actually.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, Adriana. But it was necessary.”
“What—?” The word comes out as a croak. “What did you do?”
“What I should have done years ago.” He sets the gun on the table and walks around to my side. “Riccardo was always going to be a problem. His father was the same way. I know you probably don’t remember, but he was reckless, volatile, and convinced he deserved more than he’d earned. I warned Francesco. About his brother. About Riccardo. About all of it.”
He stops next to me now, so close I can smell the noxious mix of gunpowder and cologne in the air around him.
“He never listened,” Vincenzo says, stroking his chin. “When his brother died, did Francesco learn? No. He coddled Riccardo out of guilt and gave him chance after chance while I stood by and watched this family weaken from the inside.”
“Vincenzo.” I finally find my voice, but it comes out as a ragged whisper. “Why did you bring us here?”
He looks down at me, pity in his gaze. “I brought you here to show you what it means to be a real boss, Adriana. What it means to make the hard choices, one’s nobody else has the stomach for. This is what it means to be in charge, to lead this family.”
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small vial of clear liquid, then places it on the table.
“This is the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make.”
I scramble to get up. His hand clamps down on my shoulder, forcing me back into the chair.
“I didn’t want it to be this way,” he says in a soft voice that is meant to be soothing but slices at my ears like the sharpest razor blades. “When Francesco went down, I thought you’d refuse the role. Everyone did. You spent your whole life running from this world. You were supposed to walk away and let the pieces fall where they belonged.”
“Oh my God.” The truth crashes over me like ice water. “You were part of it. The gala attack.”
“Eamon needed someone on the inside. Someone Francescotrusted completely.” He shrugs, so casually it makes me want to scream. “I was tired of being ignored, of giving advice that no one listened to. When Eamon offered me a seat at the new table… the real table, where decisions actually get made for the right reasons… I took it.”
“Eamon. That son of a bitch. He was behind this whole thing.” Realization grips me by the throat and squeezes. My vision blurs, temples throbbing as the betrayal slices through my heart. “And you, you traitorous pig, you advised my father to sign that fucking marriage contract. You sat with us in the hospital while we grieved, you swore your loyalty to us, said you’d always be here for us.”
Rage floods my veins, my vision bleeding red. “My father trusted you. He loved you like a brother.” I lance him with a glare. “We all did.”
“And I love him. I love all of you. But love doesn’t run an empire.” He holds up the vial. “Drink this.”
“Fuck you,” I growl. “You don’t own me.”
“It’s not a request.” His grip on my shoulder tightens. “You can drink it yourself, or my men can hold you down and pour it into you. Your choice. Either way, you will get it down and come with me.”
My eyes dart toward the door, panic gripping me hard. The two men from outside have moved inside, now blocking the exit. There’s no way out.
