Page 198 of The One
Father rises from his chair with slow, deliberate movements, placing both hands on the polished solid timber desk as he leans forward. Sunlight catches the glint of his gold Rolex.
A smug smile spreads across his face.
“Behind it?” He chuckles, the sound somehow chilling. “I shot him myself.”
The admission is like a bullet to my chest.
I blink a few times, slow to process what he just said. My breath catches, my ribs locking around my lungs.
I clutch my sternum as if I can physically hold my heart to stop it from shattering into pieces.
“This… this doesn’t make any sense.” I stutter, forcing the words out even as the nausea tightens its grip on me.
“You swore your allegiance to the De Marco family. You wear theirbrandon your chest. You’re about to become consigliere.” My voice breaks. “Why? Why would you do this?”
My father straightens, adjusting the cuffs of his crisp shirt like we’re debating a suit purchase in a clothing store.
“For more power, of course.” He shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I got a better offer than consigliere.”
I stare at him, completely dumbfounded.
“More power?” My voice rises, raw with disbelief.
I turn in a circle, throwing my arms out, gesturing at the obscene luxury surrounding us. The vaulted ceilings, the gilded moldings, the priceless artwork hanging on the walls.
“You’re already one of the wealthiest men inla famiglia, probably with more money than you know what to do with!Whydo you need more? The De Marcos trust you!”
He laughs, low and condescending, shaking his head like I’m a foolish child.
“Trust,” he scoffs. “Such anaïvething to value.” His gaze sharpens, cold and cutting. “Trust doesn’t buy influence. Trust doesn’t make menfearyou.”
He tilts his head. “And fear is the only real power there is.” His voice is calm, almost bored, but the words cut through the air like a whip.
My stomach turns.
I stare at him, bile rising in my throat. He talks about destroying an empire, aboutmurderingpeople I love as if it’s nothing more than a chess move. And for him it isn’t.
“The De Marcos are arrogant and self-centered,” he continues, his expression twisting with disdain. “They believe they’re invincible, untouchable. Newsflash, they are not.Even a century-old empire will fall if the right pressure is applied.”
He straightens, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. “And I am that pressure.”
My hands clench into fists.
“You swore loyalty to them,” I repeat, my voice shaking. “They trust you.”
His lips curl into something that might have once been a smile, but now it’s just cruel.
“That was their mistake. Trust is for the ignorant.”
He leans in, his eyes glinting with something dark and victorious.
“The De Marcos are history. Their time is over. Gualtiero may have gained more power in the last month than anyone before him, but that only makesourvictory sweeter.”
My breath stumbles.
He’s not just a traitor. He’s a monster.
“Us?” The word scrapes my throat. “Who isus?”
