Remarried To The Ruthless Mafia King

Sienna POV

It took three days for Don Carlo to be moved into a private suite.

His recovery was agonizingly slow, but while his body lagged, his mind remained terrifyingly sharp.

I sat by his bedside, peeling an orange. The sharp spray of citrus mist battled the cloying, antiseptic stench of the clinic.

Nonna walked in, the latch of the door clicking firmly shut behind her.

She placed a heavy black envelope on the tray table.

"Open it," she commanded.

I wiped my sticky hands and picked it up.

Inside lay a matte black bank card and a stack of documents. I glanced at the balance statement attached.

Eight hundred thousand dollars.

My breath hitched.

"This is the pension fund," I said, looking up, confusion clouding my voice. "This is for your retirement, for the estate maintenance."

"It is blood money," Don Carlo grunted from the bed.

His speech was slurred, but the authority in his tone was unbroken.

"Compensation," Nonna clarified, her eyes hard. "For the years you wasted on a fool."

I put the card back on the table, shaking my head.

"I cannot take this. I am your daughter now, remember? Daughters do not take their parents' safety net."

"Take it," the Don ordered.

He lifted his good hand, pointing a shaking finger at me.

"You run the house. You run the books. You raise the child."

He took a ragged, wet breath.

"Power is not given, Sienna. It is funded. If you are to lead this family in our name, you need resources."

I looked at the card again.

Eight hundred thousand dollars was not just money.

It was a weapon.

It was freedom.

It was the ability to hire security, to invest, to ensure Mia never had to depend on a man like her father ever again.

I realized they weren't just giving me cash.

They were handing over the keys to the empire that Luca was too stupid to keep.

He had traded this legacy for a cheap mistress and a one-way ticket to oblivion.

I picked up the card.

The metal felt cool and heavy in my hand, like the handle of a gun.

"I will use it wisely," I promised.

"We know," Nonna said, sitting beside her husband and taking his hand. "You have the head for business. Luca... he only had a head for fantasies."

I slipped the card into my pocket.

I felt a shift in the room's atmosphere.

I wasn't the nursemaid or the grieving wife anymore.

I was the steward of the Vitiello name.

And I intended to make it worth more than Luca could have ever dreamed.