Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
32
GIULIANO
Control. That's what it always came down to. Every plan, every calculated risk, every fucking choice that had led us here—all about maintaining that perfect balance of power.
But walking through these hidden passages, paths that hadn't felt Vittorio's cameras or guards, I could taste the difference. This time we weren't charging blind into his fortress. This time we had Nan's decades of knowledge guiding each step, her map turning Vittorio's impenetrable tower into swiss cheese.
Then I heard Pearl's voice through the study wall, and control became a joke. A goddamn fairytale I'd been telling myself while the world burned.
"Really?" Her voice carried steel I'd never heard before. "Because I think you've been expecting this since the day you killed my father."
My blood turned to ice, then fire.
"Marco was weak. Sentimental." Vittorio's voice dripped with contempt. "He never understood what it takes to build real power."
"He understood humanity." Pearl's voice shook with rage. "Something you lost a long time ago."
My fingers tightened on my weapon, every muscle coiled to strike. Her voice through that wall made my chest constrict, made me want to tear through the fucking barriers between us.
Nico's hand landed on my shoulder, a silent reminder to wait for the right moment. He'd been patched up from the wound he'd taken but was nowhere near recovered. It didn't matter, though; nothing could have stopped him from being here.
Angelo and Rocco were already at the main door. Through the shadows, I caught glimpses of Vincenzo and Luca moving into position, while Enzo ghosted past, uncharacteristically silent. My men, doing what we do best. Protecting our own.
"You disappoint me, dear one." Vittorio's voice dripped false concern. "After everything I've given you..."
"Given me?" Pearl's laugh held no humor. "You mean everything you stole? My father's company? My mother's life? My freedom?"
The hidden latch yielded under my fingers. Through the crack, I saw Pearl backed against the massive desk, that damn Picasso looming behind her like spilled blood. She looked both fragile and fierce, ready to fight.
Alessandro's cultured voice cut through the tension. "Now, darling, be reasonable. Everything has been arranged for your benefit."
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Oh, but you are." Vittorio moved closer, his careful mask finally fracturing. "Did you really think those thugs could protect you? That anyone would believe their lies about me?" His laugh turned ugly. "I own this city, little girl. The police. The judges. Even that detective you're all counting on."
As if on cue, sirens wailed in the distance. Perfect timing, Santos's teams moving into position. But Vittorio's smile only widened.
"You see? My security will handle any disturbance. No one leaves this tower without my permission. Especially not you."
Pearl's chin lifted. "You're wrong."
The words were barely a whisper, but they carried such certainty that even Alessandro's polished confidence wavered.
"About what, exactly?" Vittorio's tone promised punishment.
"Everything." Her voice grew stronger. "The police aren't coming to help you. Those sirens? That's Detective Santos leading a federal task force. They have everything, Vittorio. Every file. Every recording. All the evidence Nan's been gathering for eleven years."
Vittorio's face twisted into something monstrous. When his fingers dug into Pearl's arm, my trigger finger twitched.
That was enough. In an instant, we burst through every entrance. Alessandro spun toward the door and met Enzo's fist. The twins sealed off any escape. But my focus had narrowed to one target.
Vittorio yanked Pearl against him, pressing his gun to her temple. "One move and she dies."
My heart stopped. One wrong move and—
"Let her go." My voice barely contained the rage burning through my veins.
He tightened his grip. "You think this changes anything? I'll have new identities within the hour. The charges won't stick—"
"The murder charges will." Nico's voice cut through the tension. "Marco Divino's death wasn't as clean as you thought. Nan made copies of everything."
Rage twisted Vittorio's features. "You have no idea what that fool would have done—"
I saw it coming half a second before it happened. Pearl's fingers found the gun—that perfect grip Angelo had drilled into her for hours. Then time slowed: the weapon spinning free, her body twisting like a dancer's, Vittorio's face shattering into pure terror as he realized he'd lost. Her elbow connected, and the monster who'd haunted her nightmares dropped like he'd been shot himself.
My arms caught her instinctively. She was trembling, but her eyes blazed with fury.
"Pearl." Alessandro's voice cracked as federal agents swarmed the room. "Think about what you're throwing away. The clinic... our plans..."
"Your plans?" She turned in my arms, facing them both. "To use those clinics for trafficking? To break women until they're perfect dolls?" Her voice shook with fury. "Nan found everything. The blueprints. The client lists. It's over."
Vittorio lunged, but Rocco was faster. The sound of handcuffs clicking shut was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard.
"This isn't possible," Vittorio snarled as Santos read him his rights. "I own this city!"