“The Families have called an emergency meeting.” Antonio’s eyes dart between us, taking in the obvious destruction of our relationship. “They want to discuss the Giuseppe revelations and their impact on DeLuca leadership.”
My stomach clenches, but I keep my expression neutral. “Let me guess. They think I’m weak.”
Antonio hesitates, clearly trying to decide whether he should tell me. He exhales a moment later. “They think the scandal makesyou a liability,” he says, clearly hating every word that comes out of his mouth. “Emotional instability, questionable parentage—they’re saying it threatens the family’s reputation.”
Perfect.
Absolutelyfuckingperfect.
“Fine,” I say, my voice steady despite the chaos in my head. “When and where?”
“Tomorrow night at Le Saint-Martin, but?—”
“Perfect. That gives me time to prepare.” I turn back to Matteo, who’s staring at me with something that looks like terror. “Don’t worry, big brother. I’ll handle this myself. After all, isn’t that what Giuseppe would have done?”
“You’re not ready for this,” he says, and despite his anger, there’s real fear in his voice. “You’re walking into a room full of vultures who want to see you fail. They’ll tear you apart.”
“I’m thinking perfectly clearly.” I meet his eyes, letting him see the cold determination there. “I’m thinking that maybe it’s time to stop pretending to be something I’m not. Maybe it’s time to show them exactly what Giuseppe DeLuca’s daughter is capable of.”
“That’s not who you are.”
“Isn’t it?” I shrug, already turning toward the door. “You just spent the last ten minutes telling me exactly who I am. Giuseppe’s daughter. A monster you tried to control. Well, guess what? The experiment’s over.”
“Stop.” His voice changes completely, becoming the cold, authoritative tone of Don Matteo DeLuca. “As the head of this family, I’m ordering you not to go to that meeting.”
I freeze in the doorway, my back still to him.
For a moment, the command almost works—nineteen years of conditioning, of respecting his authority, of being the obedient daughter who (sometimes) does what she’s told.
Then I slowly turn around, and when I meet his eyes, I smile.
“But you’re not the head of my family anymore, are you?” My voice is soft, deadly. “You’re just my half-brother. And last I checked, brothers don’t get to give orders.”
Antonio drops his tablet. Matteo’s eyes flare. “You are not going to go. Is that clear?”
“Don DeLuca,” I say, putting mocking emphasis on his title, “with all due respect, go fuck yourself.”
Alessandro makes a sound behind me—maybe a warning, maybe just shock—but I don’t look at him.
I keep my eyes on Matteo as I watch something break in his expression.
“You can’t do this,” he says quietly. “If you walk out that door, if you go to that meeting without my support…”
Oh, this is too fucking good. “What? You’ll disown me?” I laugh. “Too late for that. Turns out I was never really yours to begin with.”
I walk back toward the door, stepping over broken glass and shattered picture frames.
At the threshold, I pause and look back at him one more time.
“Thank you,” I say softly. “For finally being honest with me. Now I know exactly where I stand.”
“Where are you going?” His voice breaks on the question.
“To figure out how to be what I really am instead of what you tried to make me.” I give him one last cold smile. “Don’t wait up, big brother.”
I leave him standing there in the wreckage of my study and our relationship, surrounded by broken glass and broken promises.
Let him clean up his own mess for once.
