In Montrava, the grand ballroom of the Rossetti estate was ablaze with lights.
Northern elders had gathered in force to welcome my return.
“Gianna,” Father called out to me in a commanding voice as he first raised his glass. “Welcome home.”
I lifted my crystal glass and swept my gaze over the crowd. Some of them were Father’s loyalists, some new–blood upstarts, and others who once scoffed at me, the Rossetti Principessa who’d “betrayed” the North and run off to the South.
As I smiled, my voice was calm and rang out clearly. “Thank you, everyone. I’ve learned a lot these years in the South.”
“Oh, for instance?” Some leaned forward, amused.
I set my glass down and began to say, “For example, their port runs on bribes to marine customs officers, and I have that list
now.
“Their arm deals hinge on three key brokers, one of whom now works for me.
“Two–thirds of their casino cash flow was never declared. By tomorrow morning, the tax office will deliver a friendly tax audit
notice right to Holloway Estate.”
Silence fell over the room before a low ripple of impressed laughter and applause broke out.
“A true Rossetti! Looks like Don Holloway is going to choke on his wife’s kindness!” one of the men barked with glee.
“Wife?” I arched a brow and coldly reminded him. “I never married him.”
An elder in the corner narrowed his eyes and piped in. “What about the child? Is he the Rossetti heir, or the Holloways‘
unborn little Don?”
The room quieted down to a hush, realizing that the question was going to be their main fear.
My smile was sharp as I sweetly said, “Dominic, we can’t choose blood, but loyalty’s different. This child will bear only one last name, Rossetti.”
In truth, I’d thought of getting rid of the baby that day. But the doctor told me that the baby was growing strong and healthy.
I’d stared at the tiny flicker on the ultrasound and realized that though Rafael might be his father, I was his mother. I would not sacrifice my baby for his stupidity.
So, I paid off a nurse and forged a report. I knew that my baby and I deserved a clean start far away from all of this.
From that day on, I did everything I could to strike back without mercy. With everything I’d learned about the South, I struck deep at their core businesses.
Rafael’s forces were dangerously affected, but he didn’t fight back in time because Natalia had her claws on him again.
In the Holloway estate in Neravalle, Rafael sat in his study with stacks of urgent reports littering his desk.
Matteo burst in through the door. “Don Holloway, the Northern mafias are at it again! They hit our casinos in Vespera with tax raids, and we’re bleeding money!”
“Where’s Natalia? I need her report now!” Rafael snapped as he frowned through the papers and slammed them down in
irritation.
Matteo looked visibly troubled. “Ms. Sullivan…. said she has a headache. The report’s not done yet.”
“Another headache again? She’s always having headaches, fevers, and bad moods! What else is she good for? When Gianna was around, this crap never touched my desk!” He slammed his fist on the desk.
As the words left his tongue, he froze.
Then, calming down, he rasped, “Tell her I want that report on my desk tonight.”
But when Natalia finally stood at his door, fearfully clutching the report to her chest, his anger miraculously collapsed at the
sight of her pitiful act.
