Page 37 of Wicked Bloodlines

The doors opened inward. Candlelight filled the hall, throwing shadows that crawled up the walls. Every ancestral portrait stared down, oil faces watching for betrayal. Cesare Marchesi stood at the far end of the room.

I stepped forward, letting the doors boom shut behind me. He liked theater. Well, I guess this was my curtain call.

Cesare didn’t move at first, instead standing with his back to me looking up at the family portraits. Cesare Marchesi, patriarch, monster, theatrical to the end. Tonight his three-piece suit’s inky-black color reflective of the night’s activities. He gave me his best cold smile.

“Tu sei venuta, Sofia.”

“Of course I came. You didn’t give me much choice.” I stopped three paces inside the room. “What do you want, Cesare?”

He lifted a hand, palm up. “You know what I want. The drive. The original. Not a copy or some child’s… riddle, but the evidence you stole from my house and smuggled under a murderer’s roof. Bring it to me now, and I call off the assault about to take place at the Luca estate.”

I shrugged. “It’s gone, Cesare. Days ago. Dario Luca has it. His men have gone through it. They know… everything.”

He blinked, obviously counting on having leverage over me like he always had. Which made me question if there was an actual attack getting ready to happen or not. “You’re lying,” he said.

I shook my head. “You know I’m not.”

He looked past me. A step to my left, Vincent Rossi made a show of shifting his weight, the wound in his shoulder still bleeding through the bandage. He was sweating, eyes wild. The predator on the edge of rabid.

“Fucking bitch,” he spat. “You cost me twenty million tonight. You think anybody’s gonna let you walk out of here?”

I kept my focus on Cesare. “That’s your crew’s problem, Vincent. Maybe next time you don’t take orders from a washed-up, financially ruined old man on the wrong side of the Luca family.”

Vincent bristled. “Fuck you. You don’t get to mouth off—”

Cesare cut him off with a raised hand. “Enough.” The fractured dignity slid back over his face. “There is another way, Sofia. You are still my blood. My daughter. And you will not betray us a second time.” He stepped forward, voice brimming with fake warmth. “Tomorrow, you make a statement. Tell the world the Luca family abuses you. Matteo, Dario, all of them. Say they keep you prisoner, beat you, threatened your life. Say you were forced into marriage. That you fear for Belle’s safety, and that only Marchesi blood can protect you. With that, I can rip the alliance apart and bring you home. Where you belong.”

He’d lost his mind. “That’s what you want?” I sounded as confused as I felt. “An accusation against one of the most powerful families in the country? Do you honestly think that will save your own skin?”

He smiled, that old devil’s mask. “You owe me this, Sofia. I built you. You are nothing without my name.”

Vincent prowled behind him, a wolf. “If she doesn’t do it, let the Rossis have her. I want my payback.”

“I think we’re negotiating with the wrong Marchesi.” Anthony Rossi shifted slightly where he stood out of sight in the shadows. When he moved into the candlelight, he gave me an almost polite smile. Anthony was the real danger in the room. “Your father is finished. He has been for months. He gave up every card for a shot at a single night’s leverage, and now he wants you to clean up his mess. It’s pathetic, really. This business doesn’t respect pathetic.” He let that sink in, then turned slightly toward me. “But you, Sofia. You’re a survivor. Smarter than he ever was and better at the long game.” He smiled was like a shark. “I offer you the seat. The Marchesi legacy at the Rossi table. Not as a victim or a pawn, but as the head. Cesare can retire to his stories. You carry the bloodline forward. You’ll have real power and a partnership. With me. Marry me, and together we can swing the balance of power in our favor. Then we control the city underground. Not the Lucas. Say yes and I’ll deal with the rest.”

My voice was steady, though my pulse thundered in my ears. “You want me to sell out my name, crawl to the Rossis for scraps, just for a new leash?” I shook my head. “No.”

Anthony didn’t blink. “Your name matters. The world doesn’t care who your father is as long as you’re still at the table. Take the seat, Sofia. That’s the move you need to make right now.”

“My father’s name is a lie.” I didn’t raise my voice, but the words rang through the hall. “He sold the Marchesi legacy a dozen times before you even showed up. There’s nothing left to carry, just rot and poison. He was fading before I ever started looking into all his betrayals of every person he did business with. I don’t want his filthy legacy.”

Cesare’s breath hitched at that. Even Vincent went still for a second.

Anthony looked at me with something close to admiration. “You sure?”

“I didn’t just prove it on paper. I proved it in blood. I’m done. I won’t trade one master for another. And I won’t save a coward from his own consequences.”

Vincent’s voice was a low growl. “You think you’ll make it out alive with that mouth?”

I finally let myself look at him. “Honestly? I don’t care. It’s done. The Lucas have everything they need to bury you legally, or, more likely, literally. And I doubt any of the five families will object.”

That got their attention. Anthony’s eyes narrowed, real calculation working behind the chill. Cesare just stared at me, disbelief and fury mixing into fear.

“You are still my daughter, you ungrateful bitch. You will do as you are told, or you’ll be punished.”

He stalked across the floor. His right hand rose, and he lashed out with surprising force. I knew the blow was coming, but the actual hit was something else entirely. Cesare’s hand caught me across the face, palm wide and brutal. The force snapped my teeth together, ringing my skull, and sent me spinning to the floor.

I couldn’t fight the fall, my knee slammed into the marble. My cheek burned, and I tasted blood where I’d bitten my cheek. I tucked my arms around my head and rolled, coming up with the thin blade in my hair comb. I lunged and slashed out the edge of the small blade splitting his cheek to the bone. Cesare screamed, staggering back, clutching his face. The sound was pure animal.