Chapter 13 New Queen

Chapter 13 New Queen
Romano’s laughter cut through the room like broken glass.
It was loud and annoying. Mocking me as he pointed at me with his finger.
He leaned back in his chair, one arm slung carelessly over the armrest, his eyes sliding from me to Gia with open contempt. “You see?” he said to the room at large, though his gaze stayed on his daughter. “This is what happens when women forget their place. A daughter who should have been married off years ago instead of standing here pretending she is better.”
Gia’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t speak.
Romano smirked. “You could have sealed alliances. Made an actual heir. Instead, you chose independence. I don't know why Giovanni has given you freedom. Now look at you, hiding behind friends.”
Alyssa shifted beside her, fingers flexing, but I raised my hand slightly. Not now.
I didn’t look at Romano. I turned to Gia instead.
“Are you going to be okay?” I asked softly.
Her eyes met mine. Dark and steady. There was fear there, but also resolve. She nodded once. He was always a shitty and abusive father. He always thought he was superior just because he was a man. And that will be his downfall.

The knife was already in my hand. The motion was smooth and practised, almost lazy. A flick of my wrist, and the knife was against his throat. The cut was small, but enough to make him bleed fast, but not deep enough for him to choke on his blood and die.
Romano didn’t even have time to widen his eyes. Guns were raised, but I don't move.
“You see this. This is what happens when you make me mad. To think I wanted to be like you once"
The blade buried itself in his left eye with a dull, final sound. His body jerked once, and I let the knife slice through his throat. He slumped forward; long gone was his mocking laughter.

Silence crashed down on the room.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then chairs scraped back, guns were cocked up, and anger and shock shot up in the room.
I didn’t raise my voice.
“Put them down,” I said calmly.
Someone fired. I clicked the device in my palm.
The west side of the building exploded. The blast shook the walls, dust raining from the ceiling as screams echoed from somewhere far too close. The shockwave rippled through the room, shattering glasses and sending the men stumbling.
I didn’t flinch.
“This building is surrounded,” I said evenly, my voice carrying despite the chaos. “I got this as a gift last year for my birthday as a joke.”Alyssa snickered, "I get to play with them now" A giggle turned into a full-blown laugh. They thought I was just a vase or a dog. Now I will show them.
"It will be fun to see grown men running around like little rats”, Alyssa said lazily, playing with her knife from the wall where she perched rather comfortably.
Guns wavered. Gia has been quieter than normal. But we have to focus on what is important.
“I walk out of here alive,” I continued, “or I hunt every single one of your families down. Your sons, your daughters, your wives, down to your very last cousin. Your debts will not disappear. Never. They will belong to me.”
I stepped forward, boots crunching over broken glass.
“Do not forget,” I added, my eyes sweeping the room, “I am still the daughter of the man you served. And I killed him”
Low murmurs spread. Fear had a sound. I could hear it now, ragged breathing.
One by one, guns lowered.
Not loyalty. Never that. But fear will do for now.
“Good,” I said softly.
By evening, the threats had been delivered, alliances broken, and the oldest, most conservative men in the room had learned what it felt like to kneel without touching the floor. After a long day of threats and marking my power. We retreated to Gia's condo.
It was exactly as I remembered it: small and unassuming, tucked into the city like it didn’t matter. Inside, however, security hummed quietly beneath the walls, cameras blinking, systems alive and alert.
This was safe.
For now.

I was halfway through washing the blood from my hands when my phone buzzed.
Liam.
A video call.
My stomach flipped.
I glanced at my reflection instinctively, smoothing my hair, adjusting the collar of my shirt. Ridiculous. Still, I checked the lighting, took a breath, and answered.
Lucia’s face filled the screen, Lyla wedged beside her, both of them grinning.
“Mama!” Lucia shouted.
My chest softened instantly. “Hey, my loves.”
They talked over each other, words tumbling out, school drama, a boy who cried during rehearsal and a teacher who forgot someone’s name. I laughed, the sound real, grounding.
“Where is daddy?"
They didn't answer. Just kept giggling. That mischievous giggle that I know they have done something. "What did you girls do?"
Behind them, I heard movement. " Have you girls seen my phone?” Liam’s voice came from off-screen.
The girls burst into giggles.
Lucia squealed, “Nooo,” far too quickly.
Liam appeared, pretending to scowl before lunging at them. “My little thieves,” he accused lightly, tickling them until the room filled with laughter.
My throat tightened.
When he finally took the phone back, the girls still breathless, he looked into the screen.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I replied.
Awkwardness settled between us, fragile and familiar.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Everything’s… handled. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Good,” he said, then hesitated. “If anything goes wrong…”
“I know,” I cut in gently.
We both knew I wouldn’t call.
The girls climbed back into the frame, instantly filling the silence. “You’re both coming to ballet practice, right?” Lyla demanded.
“Of course,” Liam said at the same time I did.
They beamed.
After goodbyes and blown kisses, the call ended. The room felt emptier without them. I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my body finally catching up to the day. My thoughts drifted back to Liam’s arms around me, the way his heartbeat had steadied mine, the warmth of him, solid and familiar.
I closed my eyes, letting the memory wash over me.
Missing him hurt in ways I hadn’t prepared for.

The room felt too quiet after the call ended. My thoughts kept drifting back to him as I lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, my phone still warm in my hand. My heart hadn’t slowed yet. It was ridiculous how easily he did that to me; he didn't even like me yet. How just the sound of his voice, the sight of him laughing with the girls, could unravel me.
I closed my eyes. And suddenly, I wasn’t in Sicily anymore. I remembered his arms around me, the weight of them, firm and steady, like he was anchoring me to the world. The way his chest had risen beneath my cheek when I cried. The way his breath had brushed my hair when he held me just a little too long.
My body reacted before my mind could stop it. My thighs pressed together instinctively, a soft exhale slipping past my lips. I turned onto my side, fingers curling into the sheets as heat spread low in my stomach, slow, deliberate and undeniable.
My thoughts betrayed me. His hands, his mouth, so close it made my breath hitch. It has been six years since we last touched. But I still remember the feel of it like it was yesterday.
My palm drifted over my skin. Slowly letting my hands tease me. My chest, my nipples, squeezing them.
But it wasn’t enough.
I whispered his name into the empty room, the sound barely louder than a breath.
Slowly and slowly, my hands reached the place I needed him the
most. My eyes closed, and I let the memories of him drift me into pleasure.