Chapter 164

Nydia's POV

Mia's movements, on the surface, seemed completely clean.

I suspected she was connected to Vincent's disappearance—but suspicion without evidence was worthless. I couldn't afford to move too soon.

I told Lima to keep watching her.

He nodded, but didn't leave.

I looked at him. "Something else?"

"Mrs. Nydia," Lima said carefully, "word got out that you're back. The extended family wants to see you." He paused, then added, "While Vincent's been gone, some of the older men in the family have been... restless. I've been the one holding the line, but it hasn't been easy. When you came back, I let it slip—hoping it would be enough to keep them in check. They thought I was bluffing, so now they're outside. Demanding to be let in."

I understood immediately.

When Vincent was here, his reputation alone kept everyone in their place. He was decisive, ruthless when he needed to be, and after the way he'd handled his uncle and aunt, his standing in the family had become almost untouchable. People didn't just respect him—they feared him the way you fear something inevitable.

But now he was gone. And the empire he'd built—the businesses, the operations, all of it—was sitting there like an unclaimed fortune. Of course the distant relatives were circling. Of course they were.

His uncle and aunt were dead. There was no one left in his direct line to contest it.

I let out a cold laugh. "Send them in."

Vincent wasn't here. That meant I was the one holding this together.

Anyone who thought they could swoop in and take what was his had another thing coming.

Lima returned shortly with nearly two dozen people filing into the sitting room. They stood in a loose cluster at the center, and the way they looked at me left nothing to interpretation.

The man at the front was in his sixties, broad-shouldered with the carefully groomed look of someone who'd spent years expecting deference. He introduced himself as Vincent's uncle on his father's side.

He looked me over with undisguised contempt. "Vincent has been missing long enough that we have to accept the obvious. We can't let the family's interests sit idle indefinitely." His tone was that particular brand of polite that wasn't polite at all. "The family needs leadership. I'm proposing that someone capable step in on a temporary basis while Vincent is... unavailable. As his wife, you'd simply need to sign an authorization transferring operational authority. It's standard procedure."

"Bold request," I said flatly. "No."

The man's eyes went wide. Then they went hard. "On what grounds? You're his wife—that's the extent of it. You have no standing in this family's affairs. We came to you out of courtesy, not obligation. I'm telling you right now—sign the authorization, or we'll find another way to get it. One that doesn't require your cooperation."

"I'd love to see you try." I held his gaze without blinking. "Don't waste your time trying to intimidate me. Vincent told me everything before he disappeared. Under the terms he set—if he were to go missing or be otherwise incapacitated—full authority over both the family and the organization passes directly to me. All of it."

"That's absurd!" The man's voice cracked with outrage. "You're a woman! What do you know about running any of this? You don't have the first clue what it takes—"

"Then I suppose I'll have to demonstrate." I kept my voice even.

The room went quiet. Everyone was looking at me, trying to work out what I meant.

The man frowned. "Demonstrate how, exactly?"

I turned to Lima and pointed at the man. "Strip every one of his positions in the family. Effective immediately."

The color drained from the man's face. "You can't—Nydia, I am Vincent's uncle—"

"Inside this organization," I said, "the only titles that matter are the Boss and everyone beneath him. You are beneath him. You came into this house and disrespected that authority." I didn't raise my voice. "Lima."

"You wouldn't dare—"

Lima's hand cracked across the man's face before the sentence was finished.

The man staggered, one hand flying to his cheek in disbelief—and then Lima hit the other side.

I snapped my fingers. Two of my guards stepped forward and took hold of the man's arms, locking him in place. Lima rolled up his sleeves.

The room filled with the sharp, rhythmic sound of impact.

At first the man cried out. Then the cries faded to nothing.

No one in that room said a word. They stood frozen, faces pale, staring at the floor or the walls—anywhere but at me.

When the man's legs finally buckled and he sagged between the guards, I raised a hand.

Lima stopped.

I looked at the man crumpled on the floor, then swept my gaze across everyone else in the room.

"Vincent is missing," I said. "He is not dead. And I already have leads that will bring him home within the month. Every one of you—what you did today, what you tried to pull—he will hear about it. All of it." I let that land. "If you want to keep your place in this family, I suggest you go home, stay quiet, and wait. If anyone else comes to this door looking for a fight—" I glanced down at the man on the floor— "you'll leave in worse shape than he did."

Silence.

"Get out."

They left. Every last one of them—some half-dragging the man who'd led them in—shuffling out with their heads down and their bravado gone.

The sitting room emptied in under a minute.

Lima exhaled. "Mrs. Nydia... do you really think we can bring Vincent back within the month? We still don't even know where he is."

"Keep watching Mia," I said.

Lima's brow furrowed. "You're still focused on her?"

"Yes."

"Any particular reason?"

"Call it instinct."

He considered that. "All right. We don't have much else to go on anyway. Maybe she leads us somewhere."

---

That afternoon, one of the housekeepers came to find me. She said my parents had arrived—Eileen and Frank.

I'd figured this was coming. Word had spread that I was alive, and they would have heard.

Lima had filled me in on what had happened while I was gone. The fallout from everything with Olive had gutted them financially. Legal fees, settlements, one bad decision compounding the next—they'd burned through whatever reserves they had. Their company had gone under. The house had been repossessed and auctioned off.

Last Lima had heard, they had nowhere to go.

I had no illusions about why they were here. It wasn't grief. It wasn't guilt. It was the same calculation it had always been—I was their most viable option, and they needed something from me.

I told the housekeeper to send them away.

She came back five minutes later. They were refusing to leave, she said. They'd wait outside as long as it took.

I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose and told her to let them in.

When they walked through the door, I almost didn't recognize them.

Two months. It had only been two months—and both of them looked like they'd aged a decade. Eileen's hair had gone gray at the roots. The polish was gone from both of them, replaced by something tired and worn-down in a way I'd never seen before.

Eileen started crying the moment she saw me.

"Nydia—oh my God—you're alive." She pressed a hand over her mouth, tears running freely. "We thought you were really gone. We thought—Nydia, I still have my daughter. Thank God. Thank God."

Frank stood just behind her, wearing an expression somewhere between remorse and uncertainty. "Nydia." He cleared his throat. "We... we've had a lot of time to think. These past months—we've had nothing but time. And we know how wrong we were. How wrong we've been for years." He met my eyes briefly, then looked away. "But you're here. You're alive. That means we still have a chance to make it right. Come home with us—let us try."

I stood there and said nothing.