Chapter 2

I'd barely reached the hallway when my father came after me.

"Grace."

He caught my arm, frowning.

"Can't you act like an adult for once? Challenging me in front of every capo in the family made us both look like fools."

"Wilfred lost his parents young. We have an obligation to look after him."

"And right now, I can't let anyone think I'm handing power to you just because you're my daughter. Once I secure my seat on the Commission, I'll find a way to name you as my successor."

He tightened his grip.

"Now go back inside. Apologize and tell everyone you're willing to serve under Wilfred."

For one stupid second, I'd thought he'd followed me to make things right.

I should have known better.

"Do you remember when I earned a place at the Palermo training compound?" I asked. "You gave it to Wilfred instead, even though he barely passed the family trials."

"You said you couldn't show favoritism."

"You said Wilfred had no parents and no one else to help him."

"You promised my turn would come later."

I looked straight at him.

"So when exactly is 'later'?"

This had been happening my entire life.

When I was young, I ranked first in every family trial, yet I was never allowed into the Moretti inner circle.

My father always gave me the same excuse.

He couldn't show favoritism.

Then he pulled strings to get Wilfred into the very places I'd earned for myself.

For years, I thought I simply wasn't good enough.

So I trained harder.

I learned how to negotiate, how to run crews, how to survive in rooms filled with men twice my age who wanted me gone.

Now I finally understood.

It had never mattered how good I was.

In my father's eyes, I would never come before Wilfred.

And I would never win against his precious excuse of "avoiding favoritism."

His face darkened.

"Grace, enough!"

His voice echoed through the hallway.

"If you walk away tonight, don't expect to come back to this family."

The threat in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Fine."

This time, I didn't hesitate.

I turned and walked away.

My father stood frozen behind me.

For once, he seemed to have nothing to say.

Outside the estate, the winter wind cut straight through my coat.

Dad.

I don't need you anymore.

I can build something without the Moretti name.

I pulled out my phone and sent a message to Paul Farley, the youngest heir of a powerful family on the East Coast.

Heard you're looking for somewhere to put all that money. Interested in backing me?

His reply came almost immediately.

Absolutely.

Meet me at our usual place tonight. We'll talk.

I'll even show you the eight-pack I've been working on.

I laughed despite myself.

Ever since Paul found out I was single again, flirting with me had become one of his favorite hobbies.

I put my phone away and headed home to pack.

The moment I stepped inside the Moretti residence, I saw my mother sitting in the living room.

"Mom, I..."

A cushion flew straight at my face.

"What were you thinking?"

She shot to her feet.

"How could you humiliate your father in front of the entire family? And why do you always have to go after Wilfred?"

"It's only the position of successor. You're both Morettis. What difference does it make which one of you eventually leads the family?"

So she'd already heard.

Of course she had.

No concern.

No comfort.

Only blame.

I took a slow breath.

"If we're both Morettis, then why don't you and Dad just make Wilfred your son?"

My voice was surprisingly calm.

"You can be his parents from now on."

"You..."

She crossed the room and slapped me hard across the face.

My head snapped to the side.

"This is exactly why your father didn't choose you," she hissed. "You're selfish. Disrespectful. You have no idea what loyalty to this family means."

I tasted blood.

Then, suddenly, I laughed.

"Mom."

I turned back to face her.

"You're calling me selfish?"

"Ever since you brought Wilfred into this house, every privilege I earned, every opportunity, every place beside Dad, didn't you ask me to give it to him?"