Betray Me, and You’re Dead

To show his so-called sincerity, Luca began leaving early and coming home late, throwing himself into family business like a man possessed. Every single night, without fail, he would bring me a cup of hot milk.

“Victoria, I had a doctor adjust your prescription,” he’d say gently. “It’ll help with conception. Drink it while it’s warm.”

Once upon a time, I used to cradle that cup like it was a treasure. I believed it tasted like love. Now, all I could smell was poison.

I took the glass from him and pointed toward the window.

“Luca, what’s that outside?”

The moment he turned his head, I poured the milk into the thick rosebush by the window.

“What? There’s nothing there,” he said, turning back.

By then, I had wiped the trace of milk from the corner of my lips and handed him the empty glass.

“Maybe I imagined it,” I said. “I’ve been dizzy lately.”

Luca took the cup. A flicker of satisfaction flashed across his eyes. It happened so fast that most people would have missed it.

“It’s okay. Once you keep taking the medicine, you’ll feel better soon. And when you’re pregnant with our child, the Godfather will be ecstatic.”

He was still putting on an act. What he didn’t know was that I had replaced every surveillance system in the house with a private line. Every call he made to Sophia from his study was now backed up to my cloud server, word for word.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured one night. “That old man doesn’t have much time left. Victoria’s health is also getting worse. The doctor says she has premature ovarian failure. There’s no way she can get pregnant. Once I secure control of the port, I’ll bring you and Antonio over. The Empire State Building? I could buy it for our son as a toy.”

I sat on the other end of the surveillance feed, listening calmly. The sweet words that once made my heart race now felt like blades sliding under my skin.

Did he really think the intelligence network my father built from nothing was just decoration? Did he really believe the Corleone family couldn’t see what he was doing? Well, if he was so eager to bring that mother and son into my home, how could I not lend a helping hand?

The very next day, under the name of the Corleone family’s Principessa, I sent formal notices to several luxury boutiques on the island. The message was simple: freeze all of Sophia’s credit cards. After all, they were issued under my supplementary account. I’d like to see how long “true love” could last without money.

Sure enough, in less than three days, Luca grew restless. He paced back and forth in his study, his voice lowered but furious.

“How could it be frozen? That’s Victoria’s card… D*mn it! She probably just forgot to make a payment. Don’t cry! If Antonio wants caviar, just get it! I’ll figure out a way to transfer the money to you!”

Figure out a way? Every single dollar in the Corleone family flowed through systems I controlled. If he wanted to touch public funds, he’d need my authorization.

That night, Luca tested the waters.

“Victoria, have there been any changes to the family accounts on the island recently?”

I was trimming a black, thorny roses I replied, “Yes, Uncle Rocco reviewed the books. There were some questionable expenditures, so he froze all supplementary cards for now. Why? Do you need something urgently?”

Luca’s face stiffened, and he waved his hands quickly. “No, no. I was just asking.”

I snipped the rose cleanly at the head, allowing the bloom to fall onto the table with a dull thud.

“Good,” I replied. “Those cards are for family members only. If outsiders use them, they lose their hands.”

Luca instinctively pulled his hands into his sleeves.