I Left the Mafia King and Took His Empire

"I didn't do any of—"

My voice came out thin, barely there.

The charges were fabricated. Every last one. But Riccardo never bothered to investigate. He took Nico's word as gospel, no questions asked. He really did love her that much.

A bitter laugh echoed somewhere inside my chest.

What followed was six hours of beatings. By the end, my vision went black and I lost consciousness entirely.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a private clinic bed. The kind of room where the walls were thick enough that no one outside heard what happened to the patient before she arrived.

Riccardo sat beside me, his gaze flat and cold. The signet ring on his right hand was perfectly still against his knuckle. "Stop going after Nico. Unless you want more of the same."

I said nothing.

During the two years he'd schemed to strip me of everything in the severance, I'd swallowed every kind of suffering there was. This time, I was going to carve out a future of my own.

Riccardo looked at my bruised, swollen face. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Then a phone rang, and his attention snapped away.

I glanced over without turning my head. The caller was Nico.

The moment he picked up, his brow softened. His voice turned gentle.

All things that used to be mine.

Back then, he'd been the notorious troublemaker on the streets around Crestfall, the Barone heir everyone gave a wide berth, and I was just a girl who'd gotten lost and stumbled onto him beating someone bloody behind the social club on Mulberry.

That one encounter was all it took. He latched onto me after that, impossibly tender and attentive with me while staying vicious toward everyone else. It didn't matter if they were women. He never spared them a second glance.

When he proposed in that grand, over-the-top spectacle, practically everyone in the territory said Riccardo Barone was head over heels for me.

We became Crestfall's golden couple. The neighborhood whispered about us like a legend. The old wives at Sunday Mass called us a fairy tale come to life.

Too bad fairy tales always end at the wedding. And what came after, for Riccardo and me, was everything those stories never bothered to tell.

"Something came up at the club. I need to handle it."

Riccardo stood and headed for the door. Just before it closed, I heard him murmur into the phone, "Whatever my girl wants, I'll get it for her."

I pulled my gaze back, picked up the phone on the nightstand, entered the passcode, and switched to the second operating system.

There was only one number in the contacts. I stared at it for a long time before I finally made myself dial.

He picked up almost instantly. A warm, rich voice came through the speaker: "Bianca. You finally decided to call me."

My heart stuttered. Heat flooded my ears. I turned the words over in my head, then forced them out through clenched teeth: "Could you... could you take me away? You mentioned a position at one of your fronts before. I can do the job."

He didn't hesitate. "Of course. I've been holding that spot for you. When do you want to come?"

I pressed my lips together. "One week. Once I've settled things here, I'll be there."

His voice was steady, sincere. "All right. I'll come pick you up."

After the call ended, I finally let myself exhale. Somewhere outside the clinic window, a car engine idled. One of Riccardo's soldiers, no doubt, parked where he could watch the entrance. Even my breathing was monitored in this world.

Three days in the clinic. Riccardo didn't visit once. Meanwhile, the neighborhood gossip and every connected family in Crestfall buzzed with the same stories.

The Barone heir had bought out every lot at a private auction just to make his bookkeeper smile.

The Barone heir had taken his bookkeeper to be fitted for a wedding dress. Alliance papers were being drawn.

On my very first day in the clinic, I'd received a message request from Nico.

Over the next three days she sent me Riccardo's full itinerary, message after message. I forwarded every single one to my private investigator and told them to move fast.

Ding.

Another taunt.

Nico had sent a photo, smug as ever. It was a cemetery plot. My parents' mausoleum.

When I made out the names on the headstones, my pupils contracted to pinpoints.

Nico called. My fingers were shaking as I answered.

She let out two soft laughs, her tone laced with venom. "What do you think about me bulldozing this place and putting up a nice public restroom?"

My mind went blank for a split second. I ground my molars together. "What the hell do you want, Nico?"

Riccardo had bought that plot for my parents. He'd stood beside me in the rain that day and whispered, "From now on, I'm your only family. Wherever you are, that's home."

Promises from another lifetime. Punchlines now.

Nico's voice kept coming, relentless: "You saw me in bed with him, and you still had the nerve to crawl back. Shameless."

"I was this close to marrying him. I'm the one who should be the Barone bride."

"You ruined my life, you worthless little tramp. So don't expect me to make yours easy."

She hung up without waiting for a reply.

I sat frozen for a beat, then scrambled to check myself out. The billing desk told me my account had insufficient funds.

I stared. I hadn't expected Riccardo to go that far.

I twisted the diamond ring off my finger and slid it across the counter. "Put this toward the bill."

I was leaving soon anyway. None of these things mattered anymore.

By the time I reached the cemetery, it was nothing but level ground.

The iron gate was gone. The Bellandi name that had been carved into the stone arch was rubble. Where my parents had rested, there was only scraped earth and the smell of wet concrete waiting to set.

Nico was already there. Her eyes swept over me, dripping with contempt and spite. "Oh, silly me. I forgot to dig out your parents' ashes first."

"Then again, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I'm sure they're rotting in the lowest circle of hell by now."

"So really, ashes or no ashes, what's the difference?"

I was shaking from head to toe.

A calculating gleam crossed Nico's eyes, and her lips curled into a cruel smile. "Tell you what. Get on your knees right now and knock your head on the ground a hundred times. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be generous enough to leave your parents' urn in one piece. If you refuse..."

I glared at her, cutting her off. "In your dreams."

Nico scoffed.

Then, without warning, she seized my wrist and yanked me forward. The next second she toppled backward, stiff as a board. Behind her, a cement mixer was already pouring concrete over the flattened ground.

Nico's face went white. "Riccardo, save me—"

Before I could process what had happened, a shadow streaked past the corner of my vision. Riccardo hauled Nico out.

He didn't give me a chance to speak. His face was stone. He drove his foot into my stomach and sent me skidding three yards across the dirt.

His voice was low, thick with fury. "Bianca. I gave you a chance."

"Take her to the cellar. She comes out when she apologizes. Not before."

Soldiers dragged me to a car. The lead one gave a brief tug to his jacket hem, clearing the holster line beneath, before gripping my arm. As they pulled me away, I watched Riccardo guide Nico into his vehicle with exquisite care, one hand hovering at the small of her back.

Two cars of very different worth drove off in opposite directions.

Just like the distance between Riccardo and me. Growing wider with every passing second.