Page 90 of Brutal Crown

“I found your father’s journal?—”

A shocked breath leaves my lips, and he laughs at that.

“You weren’t as sly as you thought. In fact, you helped me get exactly what I needed. You led me to that secret compartment. You helped me find the journal…”

Anger burns through my veins. “You?—”

“I borrowed your ring when you were in the shower—after that day in the cellar when I scared you. I took it then. I made sure you wouldn’t read it for longer; I didn’t want you finding out something that could help you escape me, something that could ruin my plan. But now, everything is in place; I might just tell you what he wrote there.”

I remain silent.

“Your father wasn’t just a man caught in the wrong fight. He was onto something bigger. He found something in La Mano Nera’s past, something they’ve buried for centuries. The prophecy.”

My mouth goes dry. “What prophecy?”

He leans in, his eyes burning. “A child—born of rare blood. One that could unravel everything the Society has built… or become the key to its absolute power.”

I step back. “You think my baby?—”

“I know it,” he interrupts. “You’re not just carrying Francesco’s mistake, Lia. You’re carrying my opportunity.”

Everything freezes.

“What did you just say?”

He exhales hard. “I had to act fast and smart. I had to do something that would force me into a position of power. If the Society sees me as the protector of the prophetic child, if I turned over the journal and showed them I was the one who found this secret and confided in them with it, then they had no choice. They had to make me Keeper of the Black Hand.”

“What…” I’m struggling to process everything I just heard. “What does that mean?”

“There hasn’t been a Keeper in two decades. You know why?” Marco asks, his tone like venom. “The last one got too powerful. He knew too much. One night, he was found dead in his study. His wife and kids were gone. Vanished just like that. They saidhe’d betrayed the Society, but everyone knew it was the Elders. They didn’t want to share their throne.”

“And you want that same position?” I ask, gaping at him.

“I’m not stupid enough to try and overthrow them like he did,” Marco snaps. “I’m not here to play martyr. I’m here to survive. To rise.”

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing now. “That role is not just some fancy title. The Keeper is the only one who can challenge the Elders’ vote. The Keeper is the voice of the bloodlines, a shield between the families and the ones pulling the strings. If they bring the seat back, and I’m the one sitting in it…”

He trails off, watching me.

“You’d be untouchable,” I whisper.

He smirks.

“So this is just revenge against your brother so that you can prove that you’re better than him in some way?”

His eyes darken. “I’ve spent my whole life watching him win without even trying. The heir. The golden one. The one Father took by his side and taught his ways specifically. You think I stood a chance? You think I could ever catch up when all the cards were already stacked against me?”

He steps closer. I don’t move.

“But now?” He glances down at my belly, and something flickers in his eyes. “Now I have leverage. I have you, and I have the truth about your child. Francesco lied to the Elders. He broke the bloodline laws by having sex with an outsider and brought about the prophecy child in the first place. If the Elders find out…”

“They’ll kill him,” I murmur.

“They see me as the one who protected the prophecy and revealed it to them.” He jabs a finger in the middle of his chest. “I’ll be on their side.”

“You don’t care about your brother?” I whisper, still in disbelief. “You don’t care if he gets hurt? If he gets killed?”

Something flashes in his eyes. He grits his teeth.