Too Late To Beg: The Scapegoat's Revenge

Elena Vitiello POV:

The morning sun sliced through the blinds of the Family training center, blinding and unforgiving.

I continued packing my bag, my movements methodical despite the tightness in my chest.

Dante wasn’t supposed to be here. By all rights, he should have been passed out in Roxy's bed, sleeping through the alarm meant to wake him for the most important day of his life.

But of course, he decided to stop by before heading to the "after-party."

He breached the classroom like he owned the very foundations of the building, kicking the door open with a violence that rattled the frame.

He was still high from last night, his eyes bloodshot and wild, his shirt rumpled against his chest.

He thinks he has time. He thinks the world waits for Dante Moretti.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked, stepping in to block my path.

I clutched my bag tighter. Inside lay my Letter of Recommendation for the legitimate Legal Division.

It was my ticket out. It was the result of four years of being the top student, the "math prodigy" the Family liked to exploit but never respect.

In my past life, I had given this up to run his books, to clean his messes.

"I have an appointment with the Consigliere," I said, trying to step around him.

He snatched my arm. His grip was bruising.

"You think you're better than us?" he hissed, invading my personal space. "You think you can just walk away into the clean world while we do the dirty work?"

"It's just a job placement, Dante."

"It's a betrayal," he spat.

He yanked the bag from my shoulder with enough force to make me stumble.

I lunged for it, panic flaring in my chest—or at least, the performance of it. "Dante, give it back."

He laughed, a dark, jagged sound, digging through the contents until he found the crisp, ivory envelope.

The seal of the University was embossed in gold, shimmering in the harsh light.

"This?" he waved it in the air mockingly. "This is what you care about?"

"It's my future," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"Your future is where I say it is," he countered.

He looked me dead in the eye, challenging me to fight him, to scream, to be the emotional wreck he fed on.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he began to tear the envelope in half.

The sound of the thick paper ripping was louder than a gunshot in the quiet room.

He shredded it again, and again, until my ticket to freedom was nothing but ivory confetti on the linoleum floor.

He threw the pieces in my face.

"Oops," he said, his eyes glinting with malicious innocence. "Looks like you're staying."

My hands trembled at my sides.

The old Elena would be crying by now. She would be on her knees, trying to tape the pieces back together in a desperate attempt to salvage her dreams.

But I just watched the paper settle on the ground.

Because I knew something he didn’t.

I knew that the Legal Division was scheduled to be raided by the FBI in exactly three weeks. Everyone in that department would be indicted.

By destroying that letter, he hadn't just trapped me; he had unwittingly given me the perfect alibi. He just saved me from a federal prison sentence.

He thinks he broke me. He thinks he just clipped the canary's wings.

I looked up at him, my eyes bone dry.

"Are you done?" I asked.

Dante's smile faltered. He couldn't understand why I wasn't broken.

"Get out of my face," he growled, unsettled by my lack of reaction.

He stormed out, his entourage trailing behind him like loyal dogs.

I knelt down, but not to fix the letter.

I picked up the pieces and dropped them into the trash can.

Composing myself, I walked down the hall to the Consigliere's office.

I knocked three times.

The door opened. The Consigliere, a man of ice and iron, looked at me.

"I've changed my mind," I told him, injecting a tremor of defeat into my voice. "I don't want the Legal placement. I want the assignment in the remote Accounting branch."

It was a quiet job. Unnoticed. Vital.

It was the perfect place to hide assets, to move my parents' money, and to prepare for war.

The Consigliere nodded, impressed by my sudden humility.

"Smart choice, Elena."

I walked out of the building.

Dante thinks he trapped me in the underworld.

He has no idea he just locked himself in the cage with the predator.