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He says, and there’s a finality to it, a certainty that makes the weight in my chest grow heavier, because I know he’s right.

All we can do is hope that she’ll manage without us here.

Chapter Fourteen

Isaak

Iimmediately knew that something was wrong the moment I received that message.

It was an attachment; a video of the poor Italian princess.

Alessandro Santoro, the Don of the Italian mafia, had forwarded it to me.

He told me that as a father, I would understand, and as a ruler, I would take action.

I understoodexactlywhat he meant.

I had seen countless videos like that, and recorded many of my own.

But after watching it, and understanding the history between us, I understoodwhy.

My chest tightened.

My stomach dropped.

As Pakhan, it was a feeling I often wouldn’t allow myself to feel, but this…this was unacceptable.

It was unforgivable.

Something had happened, directly under my rule.

I had been curious for days—perhaps even weeks—wondering about my sons, their silence, their actions. But until I had solid proof, there was nothing that could be done.

Now, the truth is right here in front of me.

And I can’t help but wince at the sharp feel of betrayal piercing through my heart.

I have always prided myself on the loyalty of my men, and on the honour of my sons.

Always.

Not only are they my heirs; but they are my blood, my legacy, my pride.

I can’t help but question how they grew up to be like this, and how things had been kept under wraps for so long.

I can’t believe that they think this is acceptable; to do something like this to an Italian princess of all women.

Totakeher.

I grit my teeth, anger welling up inside me like a slow burn.

This isn't justsomewoman.

This isn’t justsomefaceless pawn in a game.

No.

She is the daughter of a man who was once an underboss, a woman whose bloodline stretches deep into the fabric of their mafia.

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