Chapter 4

I tried everything to make Louis stay.

The money I'd saved wasn't much by our world's standards, but it was enough for us to leave the city and start over somewhere far from the Moretti family.

Enough that he would never have to worry about surviving on his own.

He blocked me without another word.

For months afterward, I lived in a fog, blaming myself for everything.

I thought I hadn't given Louis enough security.

That I hadn't been enough to make him stay.

But the scene in front of me now felt like a slap across the face.

The moment Louis saw me, surprise flashed across his face.

Then he quickly looked away.

Wilfred didn't let him hide.

He took Louis by the arm and brought him straight over to me.

"Cousin."

His expression was almost apologetic.

"I've wanted to tell you for a long time. I just never knew how."

He slipped his arm through Louis's.

"Please don't be angry. Louis and I love each other."

Something inside me snapped.

My fist was already swinging toward Wilfred when Louis stepped between us.

"Enough, Grace!"

He caught my wrist.

"Is this how you treat your own family? You don't get to hit him."

I stared at him.

"Why?"

My voice shook despite myself.

"Why would you do this to me?"

Louis fell silent.

Then he finally looked me in the eyes.

"Because you're the daughter the Morettis threw away."

My chest tightened.

"Wilfred is the one your parents chose. He's the future head of the Moretti family."

The words cut deeper than I expected.

Then I laughed.

Love.

Family.

Apparently, neither meant much once power entered the room.

Paul stepped forward, but I stopped him.

I caught his arm and turned toward the exit.

There was nothing left to say.

Words wouldn't change anything.

In our world, power was the only argument anyone respected.

And sooner or later, they would learn exactly how much power I had without the Moretti name.

"Cousin."

Wilfred hurried after me.

"Tomorrow is my succession banquet. You should come."

He held out an invitation, a smug smile barely hidden on his face.

That was when I understood.

Running into them tonight hadn't been an accident.

Wilfred had planned this.

Why else would he already have an invitation waiting for me?

"Sure."

I took it from him.

"I'll be there."

I walked away without another glance.

Once Paul and I were back in the car, I turned to him.

"I need a favor."

He smiled.

"Relax. Tomorrow is already taken care of."

We exchanged a look.

Nothing else needed to be said.

The next evening, I arrived on time at the Moretti estate, where my father was holding Wilfred's succession banquet.

The guests hadn't arrived yet.

My parents, Wilfred, and Louis were already there.

The moment they saw me, their expressions turned cold.

My father gave a contemptuous snort.

"Look at Wilfred. After everything you did, he still cared enough to invite you."

"And you? All you've done is throw a tantrum because you didn't get what you wanted."

My mother stepped forward.

"Apologize to your father and Wilfred. Do that, and we'll forget everything that happened."

Her eyes hardened.

"This is your last chance, Grace. Don't waste it."

Neither of them seemed remotely surprised to see Louis standing beside Wilfred.

So they had known.

Maybe they had known all along.

Maybe sending Louis overseas had never been about protecting me from gossip.

They had simply been giving Wilfred another thing that once belonged to me.

"Cousin."

Wilfred smiled.

"Families don't stay angry forever. Just put your pride aside."

Louis nodded.

"Your uncle was willing to give you a place among the capos. That should have been enough. They acknowledged what you could do."

"You should have been grateful."

I listened to them lecture me as though I were the unreasonable one.

Then I smiled.

"Who said I came for Wilfred's banquet?"

My parents stared at me.

A second later, they laughed.

Before either could speak, the low rumble of engines rolled through the estate.

One car after another approached the gates.

My father immediately straightened his jacket.

"Forget her."

He glanced at me coldly.

"Let's welcome our guests."

He led the others toward the entrance.

Black cars lined the drive.

Representatives from the city's most powerful families stepped out one after another.

Capos.

Underbosses.

Consiglieres.

Men whose names carried weight across the entire East Coast.

But none of them entered the Moretti estate.

They stopped outside the doors.

Waiting.

My father's smile slowly faded.

"What is everyone waiting for?"

He gestured toward the hall.

"Please, come inside."

No one moved.

I walked past him.

"They're waiting for my permission."