Chapter 17
My mother caught the paper and read it. Her face didn’t change. She just folded it neatly and placed it in her purse like it was a receipt.She sat down on the toilet lid and crossed her legs.
“Then we make another plan.”
I blinked, confused. “What…?”
“You want him, right?” she said calmly, like we were just planning brunch. “Then you do what women have done for centuries. You fake it. You find a body that works and you lie.”
I stared at her, speechless.
“You collect his sperm,” she added. “Use a condom if you have to. Catch it when he’s drunk Whatever. Find a surrogate. Keep it secret. Raise the child as your own. He never has to know.”
My father chimed in without even blinking. “You want to be Mrs. Salvacion? Then steal his heir.”
couldn’t believe what I was hearing. And yet… I could. These were the same people who taught me to lie before I learned how to spell.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and sat down beside my mother, my hands still shaking.
“Geneva gave him a child,” I said quietly. “So will I.”
“But this one,” I added slowly, “this one will be mine. Controlled. Clean. No tears. No threats. Nc
weakness.”
Both of them smiled.
Later that night, we sat across a man in a dark office–one of the best black–market fertility brokers in Europe. The kind that erases records before you even pay.
We made the deal. He gave us options. I chose the surrogate myself.
Then I went home.
I stood in front of the mirror in my room. Padded my stomach with the first of the fake belly inserts. Rubbed it softly. Practiced my little gasp, my pretend moan of nausea.
And I smiled.
“This time,” I whispered to my reflection, “I won’t lose.” I pressed my hand against the fake bump eyes narrowing. “If Geneva comes back… I’ll kill her for real.”
I was drinking my expensive wine on my private balcony, robe slipping low on my shoulder, while the moonlight hit just right. My legs were crossed, perfect, elegant, dangerous. I didn’t need an army–I was the goddamn nuke. I dialed Luca with a lazy finger. He picked up fast, breathless like he always was when I called.
“Report to me now,” I said, not even pretending to be gentle. “And not as Niccolo’s loyal little shadow. As my lover.”
There was a pause, and then a knock on my door. Good boy.
When he stepped in, I didn’t even get up. I just sipped my wine and tilted my head, watching him squirm.
He spoke first. “He’s flying out to Spain. Del Vale auction. The Montenegros are hosting quietly,
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no public noise. All the top families are invited. It’s gonna be a power dinner and a silent war. He’s going because someone hijacked his shipments. Probably them.”
I smiled and set the glass down.
“Of course it’s them,” I murmured. “Now, tell me every name on that guest list. Every whisper And in return… you’ll have me however you want. Again. You’ve always wanted me, Luca. Desperately. Filthy and obsessed.”
He stiffened. His mouth opened, but no words came out. I already knew what he was remembering. Ten months ago. The night his soul shriveled and I took it in my hand and made it
mine.
I leaned back, eyes gleaming. “Remember how we started, Luca?”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak.
“You followed that tech guy,” I continued sweetly. “The one who replaced the bomb. You were going to tell Niccolo it was real. That I had him switch it. That Geneva was supposed to die. That her son–what was his name? Eli?-yeah, that the boy was never meant to make it either.”
Luca’s voice was low, but tight. “You killed a child.”
I shrugged. “Collateral. Geneva made Niccolo weak. I fixed it. I gave you a chance to choose power over tears. And you chose right, didn’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
“I saved your sister’s scholarship. Your mother’s treatment. Your position beside the most fearec man in Salvacion. All because you kept your mouth shut and your pants down.”
I stood up, let the robe fall open just enough. His eyes dropped, even when he didn’t want them
- to.
“I own you,” I whispered. “You want me again, don’t you? You want to bury your guilt between my thighs like last time. So do it. Prove you’re still mine.”
I walked toward him slowly, and when I reached him, I kissed him. Hard. Deep. Like punishment. Like promise.
“Give me your mouth,” I growled against his lips. “Give me your loyalty. Right now.”
And he did. Like always.
Later, while I lay tangled with him, his breath still ragged, I stroked his jaw and whispered, “Make sure that bitch never breathes Salvacion air again. Niccolo’s mine. The ring. The fortune. The throne. And you? You’ll stay my filthy little secret.”
And when I saw the shame in his eyes… God, it felt better than sex. Let’s see how long he can survive guilt before I bury him next.
GENEVA’S POV
Watching my face in front of the big mirror, I took a slow breath and touched the edge of my black velvet mask. The dress fit like a second skin–plunging in the back, with a slit high enough. to remind them I wasn’t here to be ignored. My hair curled down in soft waves and shimmered under the chandelier light. I adjusted the Montenegro ring on my finger, the carved crest cold and heavy. That was the only crown I needed tonight.
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12:55 pm Pppp.
Elle ran up behind me in her little white dress, clutching her stuffed fox. She looked up with wide eyes, her voice soft. “You look so beautiful, Mama. Like the princess in the books.”
I knelt, holding her close. Her small arms wrapped around my neck and for a second, my breath caught. I kissed her cheek gently.
“I need to go see some bad people, baby,” I whispered in her ear. “But I promise, you’re safe here Ten nannies, remember? And you’ve got Grandpa’s guards watching.”
She frowned and held on tighter. “Don’t let the bad people hurt you.”
I smiled and kissed her forehead. “I won’t. They should be the ones scared.”
Michael stepped in, nodding once. Niko leaned on the doorway, dressed in a black tux with an open collar and that smug grin he always wore when he was carrying a gun under his jacket. “You ready?” Michael asked, glancing at my reflection.
I stood, adjusted my mask one last time, and nodded. “Let’s go. Time to walk into the fire.”
Chapter 17
