Page 32

Zyon

M y eyes traced the words on the screen, not believing what they saw. My queen, my heart chose another man than me to live with. She decided to give him a chance he didn't deserve.

I didn't understand it. I provided Valeria with money, a job, and an apartment, assuming it would be enough for her to start over and focus on us. But I was wrong. She still cared for that bastard, and the realization felt like a bucket of ice was thrown over me.

I had her. She was mine, but only for a moment, and then she slipped between my fingers like a quick little lizard. Or maybe she just needed a thrill in her life, the rush of being discovered as a cheating wife, and she used me for her entertainment.

The confusion grew inside me until it reached the size of a massive, heavy boulder and settled in my stomach, gnawing at me. The oxygen in my lungs burned, swallowing my insides. I felt like I might start throwing up at any second.

The emotional reaction to Valeria's choice startled me to the bones.

My feelings were swirling, preventing me from thinking clearly about this situation.

It wasn't sadness that broke my heart. It wasn't anger that drove me toward her.

It was something entirely different that forced me to keep my distance and stopped me from barging into her apartment and demanding an explanation .

Could it be love? That intense feeling my mother described as an all-consuming, destructive, and addicting sensation that pushed people to do unreasonable things?

I was ready to fight against anything and everyone to be with Valeria, but I was terrified of her rejection.

It was irrational that the woman I craved the most could put me in this position.

I couldn't face her and hear she didn't want me.

I couldn't look into her gorgeous eyes and see it was all just a game.

I hid my identity from her, but my feelings were real.

Yet she returned to him. To the man whom she left when he was in the hospital. She didn't visit him, didn't care about his health, or investigate what had happened to him. She packed her things and her daughter and left without a second thought. So, what changed? Why the fuck did she come back?

Sitting on the tree beside Valeria's balcony, I watched as Chester left, and in an hour, he returned. While he was away, I played with the thought of visiting Valeria, yet in the end, I stayed hidden between the branches, observing her window.

It was quiet inside, and when Chester joined his wife in the bedroom, my stomach twisted with disgust. The gun on my hip begged to be used, but it would be the most enormous stupidity ever.

Firstly, their daughter was inside, and witnessing her father's cold-blooded murder would be devastating for her.

Secondly, my impulsive actions could change Valeria's life into a living hell with Italian lapdogs at her back.

I had to solve this without causing trouble.

I had no other choice but to stay put and patiently wait for information about Chester and his accomplices.

Probably for the first time, I ignored my dad's words and didn't take what I wanted by force. Instead, my mother's wisdom crossed my mind, putting a tiny smile on my lips.

Years ago, when my first marriage was in shreds, Mom told me one thing that was deeply etched into my memory.

"Give your wife time to reconcile with herself. She needs to find her inner strength to make a decision to continue or let go."

With Sarah, I was the one to end things between us. I was fucking tired of her antics and disobedience. She almost got killed twice because she didn't listen to me. It was safer to send her to Paris and get a divorce .

However, with Valeria, it was a different story. If she needed time, I would give her time. If she needed a gentle approach, she would get it. But not with Chester by her side. I had to get rid of him as soon as possible. Otherwise, I didn't know what I might do.

Pure jealousy mixed with the fear of losing the woman of my dreams feasted on my confidence and turned me into an insecure mess. Never in my life was I scared of being refused, but Valeria awakened a side of me I didn't even know I had. How utterly absurd it was.

I returned home at dawn and didn't bother going to my bedroom. I lay on the couch, crossed my arms over my chest, and stared at the ceiling. My mind was overwhelmed with scenarios that could be happening in the Kellermans’ household.

My heart bled with every thought of Valeria enjoying her husband's arms. I wanted to scream, throw up, and maybe cry at the same time while thinking about them. It was torture, but I couldn't stop it.

"What are you doing here?"

I cringed, drifting my gaze to my half-naked brother, who stared at me as if I were an alien. Looking around, I realized I had mistaken my apartment. I was on Dorian's couch.

"Tough night," I mumbled, sitting up. He took his phone and called Malin, who materialized in the living room before I could object to this family reunion.

"This is not necessary," I sighed when they sat opposite me in the armchairs, both frowning at me.

"Obviously it is," Dorian objected, moving the glass with scotch toward me. "What happened?"

"Nothing important," I snapped, ignoring his raised brows when he looked at my clothes.

I wore a black hoodie, jeans, combat boots, and the ski mask and black leather gloves peeked from my pocket. Of course, they knew the reason behind my grim expression was Valeria. "Do we have any news about Chester?"

"Yes." Malin nodded. "And it's huge."

My brothers had no idea that one simple word patched my hurt heart. I didn't care how big of a revelation Malin had. We could finally move forward .

"Speak," I ordered, shoving the whiskey down my throat. It wasn't the breakfast I should have at six in the morning, but it was the fuel I needed.

"As you wish, boss," Malin uttered, placing his phone on the coffee table and pointing to the picture. "Look at the photos while I talk."

The images made much more sense when he explained the meaning, and I realized how much shit had happened under our noses.

Malin's story started three years ago. Twelve shareholders in the construction company voted to artificially increase invoices to get more money from me and my family. The company was a fragile link between Italians and Americans, but Americans instantly agreed to fill their pockets.

Malin's investigations uncovered that Italian families who refused to vote for the bold plan faced extortion, blackmail, and, in the worst-case scenario, kidnapping or even the death of a family member.

Stefano Gravaldis was one of the men who tried to ask for help from the capos of the Five Families, but his attempts were blocked.

His daughter Tessa was kidnapped, and no one knew where she was.

After two weeks, she was found in some remote flat in Brooklyn, overdosed.

She barely survived, and for the safety of others, Stefano agreed with the scam.

For years, everything went smoothly. Until Dorian noticed some irregularities.

He checked the invoices and payments, compared them with the contracts, and discovered the difference between the signed deals and the numbers on the paper.

It was our fault that we trusted our employees too much and didn't check their work. We could've dealt with this long ago.

But it was too late to cry over spilled milk. Dorian had already put our accountants and their assistants under lock. They would face the consequences of their activities, but I was more curious about the person behind this.

"Scroll to the end," Malin replied to my question, and I followed his instructions. "Do you know the man in the photos?"

"It's Kellerman." I frowned, zooming in on the other man, and my eyes widened in shock. "With Giovanni Valentino?" I looked at my brother, who nodded in confirmation.

"Fuck," I exhaled, momentarily shaken by the discovery .

Giovanni Valentino was the capo in one of the Five Families.

If he was the silent player behind this shit show, it wasn't surprising that Gravaldis couldn't get help from anyone in his circle.

His efforts were shut off from the highest places.

Giovanni threw his people under the bus for a more significant cause.

"This is bullshit," I uttered, standing because I couldn't stay still. "Valentino is not in control of everything. They are either all in this or the hierarchy changed."

"I'm not sure I understand," Dorian said, watching me with a deep scowl. His usual good mood disappeared with the growing tension in the room.

"We're at war with Italians, and we didn't notice it," I barked, groaning in frustration. It made perfect sense.

After my father died, the good relationships with capos died with him.

We haven't crossed paths yet, but it was just a matter of time before they wanted a cut from my growing, prosperous business.

Not to mention my power and influence on the influential people.

I was much younger than any of them and knew how to adapt.

The usual bribes didn't work as well as before. The new era was in favors and information. Politicians, diplomats, commissioners, CEOs, and stock market experts depended on the latest news. In the best-case scenario on the news, no one knew about it.

Hazards, hookers, and money laundering weren't as popular as before.

Yes, we needed it to survive because we needed to clean our money, but it wasn't the primary source of our income.

At least, it wasn't for me and my people.

We modernized and cleaned everything so as not to attract the attention of the authorities.

Police tried to put me behind bars many times, but they didn't have anything.

However, Italians were on their radar constantly.

Old capos ran their business the old way, which was a mistake.

My father often said that you'll get caught if you can't adapt .

And he was right. It was happening to them, and they decided to get rid of me to steal my work instead of changing their mindset.

Shit!

"Do we have a plan?" Dorian asked, concern evident in his voice. He wanted to avoid war because the last time we pulled out our guns, it ended in disaster. We won, but the price was too high .

But I wasn't sure if the collision could be avoided. It was hard to stop a speeding train, and too much was in motion here.

"Gravaldis asked for a meeting with you, Zyon," Malin announced, crossing his legs. He looked unfazed by the recent events. He relished the killing and torturing, which was a welcoming change in his otherwise dull life.

I forbade him from his usual activities because I wanted people to acknowledge our better traits, but this decision was wrong. Our enemies forgot what we were capable of, and it was time to remind them who they stood against.

"Schedule it ASAP," I commanded, thinking about other steps. "Dorian, get me the names of all the shareholders in the construction company. Americans are part of it as well."

"What are you planning, Zyon?" Dorian inquired, but I ignored him again. My attention was on Malin and his stoic face.

"It's going to be a blood bath," I ground out, staring into his brown eyes. "With you in the main role."

A devious smile appeared on his lips, making goosebumps rise on my shoulders. My words just woke up the devil from his slumber.

"Give it a more poetic name, brother," he said, his eyes dancing with the decadent insanity I admired since I discovered how crazy he was. "It'll be a remarkable concert filled with screaming symphonies."

Dorian clapped his hands excitedly, forgetting about any worries. The promise of seeing our brother doing his masterwork was thrilling.

"I'm sure I'll give you a standing ovation." I grinned, calming down a little. An enormous amount of work was before us, but finally, we knew who dared to challenge us.

"What about your lady?" Malin asked, filling our glasses with expensive alcohol, and an exasperated sigh left my mouth. I forgot about the recent events with my woman, but everything returned with full force when he mentioned it.

"Not sure right now," I admitted, plopping on the couch. "Let's focus on the things we can influence."

"Did something bad happen?" Dorian cast me a concerned glance, and Malin frowned .

"She returned to Chester," I disclosed, watching them exchange brief looks.

"Why would she do that?" Dorian mumbled, and Malin shrugged, but they didn't say more, and I was extremely grateful for it.

They left to start working on their tasks, and I stayed in my brother's apartment, looking at the waking city beneath me. The heaviness in my chest lessened, yet I knew the hard days were ahead of us.

I had buried the monster capable of outrageous things deep into my soul to live like an outstanding citizen and an honorable businessman. I hoped I would never have to return to who I was, but it was necessary.

The weak didn't survive in this life, and thankfully, I was made of stone. I would lead my family out of this mess. There was no doubt about it. If it were only Valentino or the entire Italian mafia against me, I didn't care. They would all burn in hell.