Chapter 27 Chapter 27

Chapter 27 Chapter 27
And beneath it all, there's this other voice inside me—my voice. 'You want it, you know you want it! You miss it, the blood on your hands, the fear in the eyes of others! Go back, be yourself again!' Something inside me breaks open. Or returns. I don't know. "You want me back in this game? Then give me those they killed! Those who shot! Those who thought they could divide us by leaving me in the dirt! Bring them to me! All of them!" He hesitates. Maybe because, for the first time in years, he doesn't know if this is a bluff. Or the beginning of the end. "You'll get them," he says finally. I nod. And the part of me that has been silent for so long begins to breathe again. My gaze changes as I look at my father once more. "I also want Sebastian back as my right hand, and for you to protect me when I need it! No more fucking contracts behind my back like with this shitty marriage!" Rafaele's eyes narrow. For a moment, there is nothing but silence—no words, no breath, just that ominous crackling between us that reminds me of the past. Back when silence was worse than screams. "You're setting conditions?" His voice sounds calm, but that's just a facade. A rage is brewing beneath the surface. "You want back in this game, and you think you can pick and choose like a damn menu?" I take a step closer, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm not a child anymore that you can keep on your toes with orders and blind loyalty. If I do that, if I become what you want me to again, it'll be by my rules." He laughs softly, dryly, without a trace of humor. "Your rules almost killed you." "And yours cost Selena!" I snap at him. The sentence hangs between us like a knife, and this time it's me who doesn't back down. Rafaele's face slips for a split second, then the mask is back. Cold. Controlled. But the blow that follows is swift. Hard. I feel my skin split open, taste blood, but I stand my ground. I don't budge. "Watch how you talk about her!" he hisses, "you have no idea what she risked." "I was there when she died!" I shout back. "I know damn well what she risked. And for what!" He's breathing heavily, his hand still raised, but I see he doesn't raise it again. Instead, he lowers it slowly, as if he himself is afraid of what might come next. "Fine," he says finally, rough, toneless. "Sebastian's back by your side. And I'll have your back as best I can. But once you get back in, Nicolai, there's no going back. No light. No peace. You know that." "I never asked for peace." I straighten up, wipe the blood from my mouth, and look at him in a way I've never looked at him before. "I just want justice." Rafaele studies me, as if testing whether I truly believe it. Then he nods. Just once. Heavily. "Then you'll get what you ask for." I turn to the door, open it, and feel the air in the hallway change as I step out. The hum from the living room drifts over, muffled—glasses, soft laughter, the charade continuing as if nothing had happened. But inside, everything is different. The part of me I've locked away is awake. And it's smiling. When my father and I entered the parlor, the tense silence of dinner was long gone. The air was charged, heavy with the sound of cutting words, suppressed threats, and the unspoken promise of violence. Vito stood close to Alessandro, shoulders tense, hands clenched into fists, while Alessandro leaned casually against the carved wood of the bar, a glass of red wine in his hand that shimmered in the light like fresh blood. "You have no right to talk about me like that," Vito hissed, his voice dangerously quiet. "I'm not talking about you, I'm describing you." Alessandro calmly sipped from his glass, then scrutinized him with a contemptuous look. "Or rather: you all. This whole... Petrovich dynasty. Big names, thin blood. Loud in the streets, but quiet when it counts." Vito's eyes flashed, Elena sat bolt upright in shock, and before Rafaele could even speak, Alessandro raised his hand defensively, as if he hadn't just detonated a bomb. "All right, I forgot: you're very sensitive when reminded that your influence has been reduced to a mere whisper since your honorable lineage began bathing in tears rather than blood." "Alessandro..." Elena began soothingly, but he simply continued. His voice was gentle, almost ingratiating, but every word was poisonous. "Do you know what they say about you in northern circles? That you were once warriors, but now you act like mere shopkeepers. No backbone, no loyalty. Your daughter dead, your heritage violated, and you...? You invite your enemy to dinner." He chuckled softly, taking a long, satisfying sip of his wine. "That's not a family anymore. That's a joke with a pedigree." Rafaele takes a step forward, his expression frozen in stone, but before he can react, Alessandro continues, this time looking directly at Nicolai, the grin on his lips sharp as a blade. "But maybe you just don't fit into our world anymore. Maybe it was a mistake to let you back in at all." "Shut your mouth, Alessandro!" I step between them and pull Vito behind me, holding his arm and clinging to me like I used to when I protected him from himself or others. "You're a guest here in my family as my husband! You'd better behave yourself before I decide to shit on your worthless piece of paper contract, beat the divorce out of you, and then feed you to my dog ​​after sending your deceitful little penis to your father!" I clench my fists so tightly my knuckles turn white and my fingernails dig so deep into my palms they draw blood. Alessandro's gaze flickers for a moment before he starts hitting me. He lands three blows before I can push him away and strike back, so hard that he hangs dazed over the bar for a moment, blood trickling down his face from the gash on his temple. I've always been proud of how hard I can hit. "Sebastian!" I call to my best friend and my right-hand man again, and wait for him to arrive. It never takes long; even after I stopped working for my family, Sebastian has always been loyal and come immediately whenever I need something. "Please take my husband to the room next to mine, the one on the left, and tend to his wound. Slowly!" The room to the left of mine is very noisy, and I know that, as does everyone else here except Alessandro. I have a plan for my revenge, and he's going to hear every single damned note. "Yvette, I want to see you in my bedroom, like before, if you don't mind. Otherwise, I'll ask someone else," I add as Sebastian brings Alessandro upstairs so he can hear.