Chapter 22
I sat alone in the dark, bottle in one hand and the remote in the other, the flickering CCTV footage playing on loop across my living room screen. Eli’s laugh echoed through the speakers. low and sweet. He was running around the garden in one clip, chasing butterflies while Elle tried to catch up, her little hands waving in the air. I pressed rewind again. I couldn’t stop. My chest felt like it was fucking caving in.
There he was. Sitting on my lap. Three years old, crayon in hand, scribbling some mess of a drawing on top of my important documents like he owned the damn table. Geneva had told him o use paper, but he always picked my contracts. Said they were “boring and empty.”
‘Papa,” he said, turning his chubby face up at me. “That’s you.”
He pointed to a stick figure with angry eyebrows and a red tie.
didn’t know what to say back then. I just froze, stiff as hell, then reached over and patted his head like I didn’t care, like it was just another Tuesday. Geneva was at the doorway watching us She smiled and said real soft, “He loves you, you know?”
And all I replied with was some grunt like a cold bastard. But inside… I felt proud. Like I meant something for the first time.
stared at that footage now, the grainy flicker of Eli’s little face looking up at mine. “I should’ve old him I loved him,” I muttered into my glass. “Why didn’t I just fucking say it?”
The screen changed. Next footage loaded.
The night of the storm.
Power had gone out across the estate and Eli was burning up in his bed, forehead hot as fire. Geneva was panicking, pacing the room, calling doctors who didn’t answer. I remember grabbing ny coat, driving out through that damn thunder like death was chasing me. I picked up antibiotics myself, pushed through floodwater, and nearly got stuck on the road coming back.
stayed up with him all night. Wet towel on his head. Singing some old Italian lullaby my mother ised to hum. Geneva sat beside us, holding his hand, crying quietly.
Eli mumbled something near dawn. Eyes half–closed. “Papa… don’t go. I’m scared when you’re
ot here.”
had promised him I wouldn’t leave.
And I still did.
My fists curled now, knuckles pale. I let that boy down.
Another clip played.
Birthday decorations. Cheap, homemade. Geneva had put balloons up. Elle was blowing her candles, face bright. But Eli… he was watching the door. Waiting. Waiting for me.
had texted Geneva, “Caught up in business. Tell him next year.”
Lies.
was with Margot, sipping wine, letting her tell me everything I wanted to believe. That Geneva was cheating. That the twins weren’t mine. That I’d been used. Manipulated.
Ho Strapped Rembe
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And all the while, my son was sitting there. Waiting for a father who never showed up.
On the screen, Geneva helped him cut a slice of cake. He kept glancing at the door between bites.
“I should’ve been there,” I whispered, shaking my head. “What the fuck was I doing?”
The next memory hit harder than the rest.
Margot in my office… Said the kids weren’t mine. Told me I’d been played.
“She just wanted protection, Nic,” she whispered. “Those twins are another man’s. She used you.”
I believed her.
I stormed into Geneva’s room that night. I didn’t ask. Didn’t wait. Eli ran toward me, arms outstretched. “Papa!” he said, so happy, so fucking proud.
And I…
I pushed him back. Not rough. But enough. Enough to make him stop smiling. I looked him in the eye and said, “Don’t call me that. Ever again.”
His face.
That little face.
He froze. Elle burst into tears. Geneva stared at me like I had just killed someone.
And maybe I did. I killed the joy in my own son.
“I broke him,” I said out loud, the words falling out my mouth like acid. “My own fucking son.”
I dropped the bottle. I didn’t care anymore. Let the whole place burn.
I deserved the fire. Because I didn’t just lose Eli.
I destroyed him.
MARGOT’S POV
I’m pacing in my room like a rabid dog, barefoot on cold marble, crushed glass and half–smoked cigarettes littering the floor. My wine glass shattered an hour ago, and I don’t even remember throwing it. The curtains were drawn tight. The air was stale and hot, like it was suffocating me, and every time I blinked, all I could see was that smug bitch’s face flashing across my screen- Geneva Montenegro, mafia’s rising queen, praised by those same elites who once begged to have a seat at my father’s table.
I’d been stalking her under fake accounts. I watched the gala clips over and over, pausing every time Niccolo’s head turned in her direction. I saw the way his eyes followed her, even behind that black mask. And I saw her untouchable, elegant, powerful. While I sat here, stinking of wine and regret, in a hotel too low for my standards, too hidden for my name.
A notification popped up. Finance headlines. Montenegro–linked files leaked. Corruption exposed, Offshore money trails traced back to my father’s companies.
My heart dropped. I dialed him immediately.
Disconnected.
“What the fuck…”
Chapter 22
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12:58 pm p ppp.
I tried again. Then my mother.
Blocked.
I threw my phone across the room. Screamed so loud I felt my throat tear. My world was crumbling. Geneva was taking everything. My future, my crown, and now my fucking bloodline.
My phone buzzed. I rushed to it like a madwoman.
It was Luca.
“Niccolo knows. He’s looking for you. Run, Margot. Hide while you still can. If I catch you first, I’ve got no reason to protect you anymore. He knows you paid the tech guy. He knows you switched the bomb. He knows about the DNA test. He knows you faked your parents‘ burns. He’s beyond mad, Margot. This ain’t something I can clean up anymore.”
My fingers trembled as I typed back, eyes wild.
“How dare you betray me! You were supposed to protect me, Luca! You should’ve stopped him from believing that bullshit!”
He replied almost instantly.
“I didn’t betray you, Margot. You just poked the wrong fucking woman. We all thought Geneva was weak. Some soft–hearted housewife. Turns out she’s the daughter of Don Domino Montenegro. You know what that means? She ain’t just rich. She’s born with an empire older than all of us combined. We don’t fuck with old blood, Margot. You did. And now the whole house is burning.”
I screamed, flung my second phone against the mirror, watched the glass spider out in all
directions.
“No! No! No!” I roared, my voice raw and shaking.
