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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.