The Billionaire CEO's Revenge Twenty Years Later

She paused, her eyes rimming faintly with red.

"It was only later that I found out two of the male associates had been meeting privately with Miss Falcone. I don't want to make malicious assumptions, but the facts are right there in front of everyone."

At the end of the broadcast, she put up a side-by-side comparison of herself and one of those male associates.

The caption read: Where did I fall short?

My right hand was so angry she slammed her palm flat against the desk.

"This is nonsense. That associate handled back-room books. He never touched a single page of the operation's data."

The man who ran our newspapers wrung his hands, frantic.

"Miss Falcone, the whole territory has turned against us. Every voice on the street is calling it bullying within the Family. Why don't you put out word to set it straight?"

I nodded.

"You're right. It's time to put out word."

But what I sent out wasn't a denial. I filed a formal grievance against Bianca directly, before the Commission, for spreading lies and staining the name of the Family.

My move stoked the Falcones' fury all over again.

Before long, Don Falcone reached out and arranged a public sit-down before the whole territory, every made man and capo watching, and asked whether I had the nerve to show my face.

I was about to send my answer when Dante hurried over and stopped me.

"Adriana, don't go. Don Falcone has lined up every paper and every mouthpiece in the city. The master of ceremonies and every man at that table are in his pocket, and the whole thing's already scripted. The second you walk in, the knives come out everywhere."

I listened quietly to the end, then asked him a single question.

"Can you get control of the broadcast feed?"

He nodded before he could think it through.

"That, I can do. But—"

"Then that's enough."

I sent Don Falcone my word directly.

"I'll be there."

I set down my phone, turned, and walked into the washroom, looking at myself in the mirror.

The woman in the glass wore a charcoal-gray suit, standing perfectly straight.

Twenty years. From my mother's terrible death to this day, I had been waiting for this sit-down.

I turned the thin gold ring once around my finger, then spoke softly to my reflection.

"Mom, this is the day I've finally waited for."