"You can't do this," Lorenzo hissed, blood trickling from his temple where debris had cut him. "The families won't—"
"The families already know." Dante's tone was casual, conversational. "They heard the recording. Heard you confess to murdering Elena Marchetti. To planning the assassinationof your own daughter." He crouched, bringing himself eye-level with Lorenzo. "They also heard you insult Julietta. My wife. My partner. Myequal."
"She's not—"
"Careful." Dante's voice dropped to a whisper. "The next words out of your mouth will decide how long you suffer before you die."
Lorenzo's jaw worked. His eyes—dark, cruel, empty—flicked to me. "You think you've won? You think this changes anything? You're still nothing, Julietta. Still a tool. His tool now instead of mine."
I stepped forward, out of Dante's reach. Walked until I stood directly in front of Lorenzo, looking down at the man who'd controlled me for five years.
"You murdered my mother," I said quietly. "You used me like livestock. You planned to kill me and profit from my death. You called it family. You called it dynasty. But it wasn't family, Lorenzo. It was hell. And I survived it."
"You survived because Iallowedit—"
"No." I crouched, mirroring Dante's position, my face inches from his. "I survived because I'm stronger than you ever wanted me to be. Because while you were building empires on corpses, I was learning. Watching. Waiting. And when the moment came, I made my choice."
"Choice?" He laughed, bitter and broken. "You chose to be a whore—"
"I chose my future." My voice cut through his. "I chose the man who sees me more than an asset to be traded. I chose the organization that values my mind, not just my bloodline. I chose power on my own terms." I stood, looking down at him. "I'm not your pawn anymore, Father. I'm not anyone's pawn. I'm a queen. And you're nothing but a sad old man who confused fear with loyalty and murder with strength."
Lorenzo's face twisted with rage. "I madeyou—"
"No." I turned my back on him, walked toward Dante. "Elena made me. The Bennetts raised me. Dante freed me. You?" I glanced over my shoulder. "You just taught me what monsters look like."
Dante's hand found mine, solid and warm. Behind us, Vince stepped forward, gun trained on Lorenzo's chest.
"Julietta—" Lorenzo's voice cracked. For the first time, I heard something other than cruelty in it. Desperation. Fear. "You can't—you're my daughter—"
"I was your victim." I squeezed Dante's hand. "Not anymore."
We walked toward the shattered doors together. Behind us, Lorenzo screamed my name. Screamed threats. Screamed curses that echoed off stone and stained glass.
I didn't look back.
The gunshot came quick. Clean. A single crack that silenced everything.
Then footsteps. Vince emerged from the cathedral, wiping his hands on a cloth, expression unchanged. "It's done," he said, matter-of-fact. No hesitation. No remorse. Just completion of orders.
Outside, the night air hit my lungs like ice water. Cold. Sharp. Clean. The cathedral loomed behind us, gothic and crumbling, its stained glass glowing from the interior lights Dante's men had activated.
Red and gold. Blood and fire.
My eyes stung. Not with grief—I'd grieved Lorenzo years ago, when I first understood what he was. This was something else. Something that felt like chains breaking. Like wings unfurling.
Freedom.
"You okay?" Dante's thumb traced circles on the back of my hand.
"I don't know." I breathed deep, tasting the city—exhaust and rain andpossibility. "Ask me tomorrow."
He pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me, solid and sure. "I'll ask you every day for the rest of your life if that's what it takes."
I buried my face in his chest, felt his heartbeat against my cheek. Steady. Real. Mine.
"I killed him," I whispered.
"No. Vince killed him."
