Chapter 10
Then the memories with her started flashing in like a flood I didn’t ask for.
Geneva. That pain–in–the–ass woman who used to look at me like I wasn’t some killer in a suit. No fear in her eyes. Not even the first night she patched me up with her bare hands after I got sliced in a back alley deal gone wrong. Everyone else backed away when they saw blood. Not her. She pulled out a sewing kit and cursed louder than I did.
‘Hold still or bleed out. Your choice.”
That was her. All mouth, all nerve. And I fucking fell for it.
remember the first time I kissed the scar on her hip. She tried to hide it from me. Said it was ‘rom a childhood accident, something stupid. I didn’t care. I kissed it like it was holy.
‘I worship you, Geneva,” I told her once. “You’re not mine to own. But I’ll kill anyone who touches
you.”
And I meant it.
bought her a countryside house because she said she wanted quiet. It was the only place she aughed without holding back. I stopped smoking for her because she said it made her nauseous. Took me weeks to quit. I punched a wall the first night and nearly killed a man the second. But I quit. For her.
She loved this dumb mushroom pasta dish. I learned it, burned it six times before I got it right. Only ever cooked it once a year, on the anniversary of when we met. She smiled so wide that day,
swear the world slowed down.
That version of us?
Gone.
That all changed when I met Margot.
t was during a private auction I wasn’t even planning to attend. One of those charity events vhere everyone pretends to care. Margot was there, standing next to some governor’s daughter, sipping champagne like she owned the place. Her eyes landed on me like she’d been waiting her vhole life.
That night, I took her to my penthouse. No talk, no lies, just skin and sweat. She knew what she vas doing. Sharp nails. Low moans. Didn’t flinch when I got rough. She was chaos. And I needed something to burn through.
t meant nothing to me.
Just a release. Just a hole. But then she came back. Again. And again. And again.
And one day, she brought something else with her–a photo.
Geneva. With some fucker I’d never seen.
Margot sat on my lap, whispering poison.
‘She had him killed before you found out, Nic. He was her lover. She’s not the saint you think she
S.”
stared at that photo for a long time.
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“She’s not loyal to you,” Margot whispered, tracing my jaw. “She never was. But I will be. Let me be yours too. I’d never betray you like that.”
And I believed it.
I let it in.
So I gave Geneva pain.
The same pain I thought she gave me. Thought I was balancing the scales. Thought I was making her feel what I felt.
But now… now I’m not so sure.
Because the woman who kissed my wounds and memorized my rage? She would’ve never left without a word. Unless I made her believe there was nothing left to stay for.
MARGOT’S POV
I was smiling like a damn witch while scrolling through my latest phone–the limited edition one Niccolo gave me–when Dad asked from across the table, “What if Niccolo finds out we staged everything?”
I didn’t even blink. I set my phone down, stretched out my legs on the velvet couch, and grinned. “He won’t. He’s obsessed. So deep in love he can’t see straight. That man would believe I trippec over my own tears if I told him I did.”
Dad leaned back, wiped the fake sweat from the bandages on his hand, and gave a low chuckle. “All that fuss just to get a little gasoline splashed on the car hood. Your mother looked like she was about to win a beauty pageant in flames.”
I laughed and stood, walking to the full–length mirror in the corner of the private room. I adjusted my robe, touched up my lipstick with the same hand I used to fake cry earlier. “Soon, he’ll marry me. It’s only a matter of time. Geneva’s already gone. She’s probably hiding under some rock crying into her broken pride. Meanwhile, I’ll be Mrs. Salvacion, walking beside him at every event, holding his child or at least pretending to.”
turned back and smirked at them. “And you two? You’ll get what you wanted. Fifty percent of the Salvacion fortune. We’ll buy out every company under his name. I already told Niccolo to add my name to his new foundation board. Everything’s going just the way we planned.”
Dad stood up and clapped his hands like he was watching a boxing match. “My brilliant daughter. I raised you damn well. You outplayed a mafia wife. That’s not small work.”
Mom, the queen of dramatic flair, sipped her wine and gave me that look; half proud, half suspicious. “Are you actually pregnant?” she asked, lowering her glass. “Because that’s the key o sealing everything. If you’re not, you’re playing with fire.”
paused for a second too long but recovered fast, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “I’m faking t for now. Don’t worry. I’ll get pregnant soon. Niccolo’s not exactly keeping his hands off me. It’ll happen.”
Mom laughed, “Just don’t get caught. That bitch Geneva’s smarter than she looks.”
rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, “Please. Geneva’s soft. She has morals. That’s her weakness. You know what I’d do if she ever shows her face again?” I leaned in, grinning. “I’ll
Chapter 10
12:50 pm Pppp.
have her arrested. We already planted the stories. Arson. Murder attempts. The works. I’ll make sure she ends up on death row. And when she’s locked in, I’ll pay someone inside to finish her off. Quiet. No drama.”
Dad raised his wine glass like a toast. “To that. Finally getting rid of her for good.”
Mom, ever the performer, wiped away an invisible tear and lunged toward me, hugging me dramatically. “I was so good in my burn victim performance, wasn’t I?” she asked with mock sniffles. “Did I cry in the right places?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, full and loud. “Oscar–level, Mum. You really should’ve gone into acting.”
I picked my phone back up and scrolled through the photos of the fake wounds, hospital bills we forged, and that poor nurse we paid to keep her mouth shut.
“Now,” I said, smiling wide, “Let’s finish this game. The crown is practically on my head already.”
