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No Longer Your Perfect Tool Novel Cover

No Longer Your Perfect Tool

After years of pining, Vivian surrenders herself to Enzo Moretti on the night he becomes the mafia boss. Promised to him since childhood, she believes his vow of a future together is sincere. However, the dream dissolves when she overhears Enzo bragging about her to his men, dismissing her as a practice run before he pursues a rival princess. Heartbroken and humiliated, Vivian realizes she is just a tool. She immediately requests a secret transfer to flee his reach forever.
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Chapter 4

For three days, there was nothing from Enzo.

I assumed things were going well with Stella. She was probably satisfied with the skills he'd practiced on me. He likely thought this was just another one of our silent wars, and that I would be the first to break, like always.

But this time, I deleted every trace of him from my life. Erasing him was more painful than I'd ever imagined. Every folder, every photo, was a memory tearing me apart. But I had to be thorough. So thorough that even I couldn't find evidence of the woman I used to be.

Looking at my new ID, the woman in the photo had an empty, resolute gaze. Like someone preparing to die.

Or to be reborn.

"Are you sure about this?" Across from me sat Don Romano, a respected family elder and my father's most trusted friend. "Moving this much money offshore is a bold play, Vivian. Enzo is no fool. He will find out."

"By then, I'll have a new life in Los Angeles," I said, sipping my coffee. "The money I've made for this family is more than enough to disappear into the sun."

Don Romano sighed. "Child, if your father knew..."

"My father would understand," I cut him off. "He taught me loyalty is a two-way street. Enzo made it clear my loyalty is no longer required. There's nothing left for me here."

He nodded, pulling an envelope from his suit. "Your new Swiss account. You know the family needs you, but as your elder, I wish you happiness above all."

"Thank you, Uncle Romano," I said, taking the envelope.

On the way to the airport, I ran into Antonio Ricci in the lobby of The Plaza Hotel—the Falcone family's lawyer.

"Miss Ross! What a coincidence," he beamed, approaching me. "Heading out of town?"

"Overseas business," I said with a polite nod.

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Miss Stella mentioned Mr. Moretti was heading to Monaco. Are you joining him? A romantic business trip!"

My heart plummeted. I knew nothing about this. Stella was already broadcasting their relationship to the world.

"The Falcone family takes this partnership very seriously," Antonio continued, oblivious. "Once the docks project succeeds, the bond between our families will be stronger than ever. Miss Stella is a clever girl. She knows how to balance business and… personal affairs."

Personal affairs. So in everyone's eyes, they were already a couple. And I was just the disposable financial advisor. A shadow.

"Mr. Moretti is a lucky man," Antonio said, his tone implying more than his words. "To have a brilliant advisor like you, and a… partner… like Miss Falcone."

I forced a smile. "Please give my regards to Miss Stella."

After we parted, I fled. In the private terminal's VIP lounge, the air conditioning was on full blast, but I felt feverish.

And then I saw him.

Even in a crowd, he was impossible to miss. And now he belonged to another woman.

Stella was clinging to his arm. She wore a perfectly tailored white dress, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. A perfect match. They were boarding a private jet. To Monaco.

I ducked behind a pillar, my heart hammering.

Enzo had an arm wrapped around Stella's waist. His hand was so large it could almost circle her entire midsection. I remembered the heat of that hand on my body, how it drove me wild. Now, it was doing the same to her. He'd lean down and whisper in her ear, and she would giggle.

I realized it had been a long time since I had laughed like that with him.

The plane was about to depart. I took a deep breath, ready to turn off my phone. But then my emergency number rang—the one only family insiders knew.

I stared at the flashing screen before answering.

"Vivian, where the hell are you?" Enzo's voice was tight, a low growl of controlled fury, but underneath it, I could hear a flicker of something else. Unease. "This game is over. Blocking my number, changing the financial passwords… what are you trying to prove?"

I said nothing, just listened to the hum of the airport around me.

His sigh was heavy with impatience."Alright, enough. This little stunt of yours is getting old. I thought you were smarter than this, Vivian, resorting to petty games for attention. You know I have things to handle right now. I'll deal with you when I get back."

He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was laced with a patronizing sort of patience. "Look. You've made your point. Now be a good girl and tell me where you are. “

“This mess you've made needs to be cleaned up. Come home, and we can forget this little episode ever happened. You know you can't stay mad at me forever."

In his eyes, this was all just a childish tantrum. My pain, my rebellion—nothing but a game.

I took a deep breath and spoke my first and only words to him. "Enzo, have a wonderful trip."

My voice was so calm it surprised me. Every syllable was clear and cold.

"With your Stella."

The line went dead silent. I could hear the sharp, aborted intake of his breath.

"Vivian, what are you talking—"

From afar, I saw Enzo yank his hand away from Stella's, his expression turning anxious as he started to look around.

I ended the call, snapped the SIM card in two, and walked toward my gate without looking back.

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