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“I know I am.”
“You aren’t fucking royalty. You are nothing but a street rat! And once we tell the world who you really are and where you really came from, I will sit back and enjoy watching everyone tear you apart as you fail to take the North. Then I’ll steal it all from you. This empire. That Buccini slut. That fucking ring from your finger! It will all be mine!”
I pushed my forehead against his as I smirked vindictively, “How can it all be yours? If you’re not here to take it.”
Swiftly, I pulled my knife from my trousers and ran it along his throat in one smooth action before he had time to react. His eyes widened as he stumbled back, clutching the gash to stop the bleeding.
“I am a man of my word, Dante. The first thing I would do as King was slit your fucking throat.”
He fell to his knees and I grabbed his shoulder, unable to contain the need for more of his blood and suffering. I stabbed him repeatedly in the stomach before his body slumped to the side on the wooden floor. I stared down at him as I watched his life drain his eyes. My murderous gaze shifted to Elio, who was staring down at his son’s body blankly. He shuffled back, raising his arms at me in surrender as I stalked towards him.
“You can’t kill me. I’m your consigliere,” he quickly muttered in alarm as his eyes flicked down to the bloody blade in my hand. I paused, narrowing my eyes on him as he gulped. “You kill me and you lose everyone’s trust by breaking the most sacred law. Those contracts and Diego’s will still stand whether I am alive or dead. You fail in the North and you will be killed. But I can help you.”
“You will sign this,” I pulled out the confession from my back pocket and shoved it into his chest. He opened it quickly, scanning the detailed accusations that he and Dante had been working behind Diego’s back to take down his son. It also accused him of laundering money from the family business for his own gain. Only the odd fifty thousand here and there that would go unnoticed to an untrained eye, but when I had studied my father’s books this morning, I saw it. Being in control of my own personal finances from my businesses had helped me spot it immediately.
“You have no proof that any of this is true-” he started shaking his head as I grinned.
“Don’t insult me, Elio. You and I both know that I have all the proof I need to bring you down. So, I’m giving you a very generous choice which is far more than you deserve. My papi loved you so I am doing this for him. Sign the confession, which I will keep as insurance and will use to bring you to your knees if you ever cross me again. Or resign as consigliere.”
He clicked his tongue as he looked from me to Fabi and back. He knew the moment he resigned, he would have to run. Run from me. He would lose everything and I would enjoy the hunt tremendously to end his life. He slammed the confession down on the table, grabbing the pen and signing it aggressively before he handed it back to me. I smiled at him as he inhaled deeply, stepped over his son’s body and stormed from the room without looking back.
I turned to face Fabi, who was staring at me with a mix of awe and curiosity in his eyes.
“Is it true?”
I swallowed the fear that had always stopped me from trusting anyone in my life. I knew I had to change that from now. I had to put my faith in the people I loved and hope that they would show me the same loyalty I had always shown them.
“I was never Diego’s mistress’ son. The woman who birthed me was a drug addict and she sold me to Diego when I was a toddler. I am not a Barbieri,” I watched for his reaction, expecting to see shock, betrayal or anger at my confession. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair and stood up from the chair.
“Then that makes two of us,” he replied, his lips stretching into a cocky grin. I felt all the anxiety leave my body as I returned his smile. “Barbieri blood or not, you are still my King and my fucking hero. I will take this to the grave.”
I stepped forward and grabbed his shoulders in my hands, shaking them slightly as I chuckled at the silly, gleeful look on his face. “And you are now the Underboss of the South.”
“Then I best get to work,” he smirked with a naughty glint in his eyes. I raised my eyebrow at him in question. “You can’t kill your consigliere. But I can.”
My smile widened as I nodded with approval. He turned and walked out the room with a confident stride. I slammed my hands over my face as I expelled all the tension in my body through a long, dramatic breath. It was done. I was officially Don Barbieri and Dante and Elio were no longer going to be a problem. But Elio was right, the will still stood and I needed to become King of Italy. One problem down, a million more to go.
I beckoned two of my loyal soldiers into the room and ordered them to get rid of Dante’s body. But first, I took a picture of him, blood seeping into the wooden floorboards from the slit in his throat. I attached the voice recording of Galiz’s confession that Dante had double-crossed me and sent it to every soldier in our family, all the Bosses in the South and Galiz. Isabelle had been right about one thing. The decisions I made over the next few days would set the precedent for what kind of Boss I would be. And this sent the perfect message. You fuck with me or the people I love and there is no mercy. Family or not.
I perched against the table as I watched my men drag his body from the room by his arms with a content smile, knowing one less twisted, sick soul walked this Earth. My phone buzzed in my hand and I looked down to see a message from Finn.
Hope you’re close to sorting out your shit because you need to get your ass back here, presto. Elle and Enzo are engaged. And they are getting married in three fucking days.
The elation and relief I felt just a moment ago evaporated immediately as my chest rose and fell in angry breaths. No fucking way was that wedding going to happen. It was time to win back my girl.
Every King needs his Queen. And no one was taking mine.
Survival
“Now I know we can’t leave the house and have a proper girl’s day watching you try on wedding dresses, so I have tried to make it as special as I can,” Mamma explained as she opened the double doors to the nightclub on the ground floor of our mansion. There were a number of gasps and exclamations around me from the girls as we took in the complete transformation of the room. White drapes and fluffy, teddy chic furniture covered the space around a long catwalk runway on a raised platform on what used to be the dance floor. Mirrors were everywhere, as well as tall floor vases filled with stunning white and pink flowers. It looked almost like a wedding ceremony itself.
“Wow, Cece, you’ve outdone yourself,” Liv breathed next to me as we all stepped into the room.
“Well, I want only the best for my daughter,” Mamma smiled. “She’s dreamed of this day since she was a little girl so I just want to make every experience as special as possible. Oh, this is Julius, the designer. He has managed to get his hands on every exclusive wedding dress in your size available at such short notice. If anyone could make this happen, he could.”
A skinny grey-haired man, who was so petite he even made Liv look like a giant, came strutting over in his designer suit with a wide smile. “You flatter me so, Cecilia. Nothing is too much trouble for the Buccinis. And is this the beautiful bride?”
I blinked at him a few times as I forced myself to remember that this was all for me. While everyone else was rippling with excited energy, I was standing there like a lemon.
