Chapter 42 Fiorella
Fiorella
I turned to face him, my back instinctively stiffening. My uncle, Vittorio D'Angelo, stood a few feet away from me, his eyes narrowed on me with an unfathomable gaze. He was a decade older than my father, with streaks of grey woven through his dark hair and an aura that had always struck me as a more immovable object than family.
We were never close. My father did business with him when he needed to, but only so far. Vittorio had his own ways, and I had never seen eye to eye with them.
But my father was dead now. And he was here.
"Uncle," I said, my voice neutral.
His piercing gaze flicked to Rocco, who stood a little too close to me, then returned to me. "We must talk. Privately."
Rocco's presence at my side was firm, unbending. I felt him tense, but I did not look at him. I met my uncle's gaze head-on.
"About what?"
His lips compressed. "Not here.".
I gulped down the irritation brewing inside of me. Of course, Vittorio would show up at my father's funeral, acting like he had any authority over me.
But I had prepared for this.
I turned to Rocco and gave him a look—one that said I could handle this. He hesitated, jaw tight, but nodded slightly anyway.
"I won't be far," he whispered.
I nodded again and stepped away, following my uncle to a less crowded part of the graveyard.
The instant we were out of hearing range, he turned to face me fully, his expression somber. "You have much to prove now, Fiorella."
I said nothing. "I know."
His eyes narrowed. "Do you? Because where I'm standing, you are young, an orphan with one and in over your head."
The words should have stung, but I was too numb to let them in. Instead, I lifted my chin, my voice steady. "I am not alone."
Vittorio sneered. "That's where you're wrong. Your father kept you protected, but that armour is gone now. The family needs a strong head, and many will question whether you're capable of being that."
I clenched my teeth. "You mean you will question it."
His lips curled. "Not just me."
I inhaled slowly, struggling not to lose my temper. "If you've come to tell me I should step down, you can save your breath."
Vittorio laughed, low and humourless. "Step down? No, Fiorella. That would be too easy. What I want to know is whether you can hold this family together… or if you'll be the one who destroys it."
A chill settled in my chest. This was not just an issue of my father's death.
This was an issue of power.
Vittorio was testing me, waiting to see if I would falter. If I would crack under the weight of responsibility.
I squared my shoulders. "You'll know soon enough."
He stared at me for a long while, then smiled, as if in amusement. "Then I'll be waiting."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me there with my sorrow and a storm brewing in my chest.
I didn't move for a moment, letting the seriousness of the conversation settle.
Then, I exhaled sharply and turned back towards the service.
I had no time for uncertainty.
Because if Vittorio—or anyone else—thought I was going to let this family fall through my fingers, they were sorely mistaken.
I turned away from the quiet part of the graveyard, my mind still echoing with every word Vittorio had said. The weight of his expectations, his doubt, pressed on my chest, but I would not let it shatter me. He was waiting for me to break, but I would not give him the satisfaction.
As I turned to return to the main gathering, I saw Rocco on the edge of the crowd, his piercing eyes scanning the room. The moment our eyes locked, there was relief in my chest area, a life raft amidst a storm. He was still here. He hadn't left.
I was making my way towards him when that all-too-familiar voice thundered from behind me.
“Ah, ah, if it isn't the new queen of the D'Angelo family."
My jaw clenched before I even turned to him. Vincent.
My cousin sauntered over with his habitual smirk, hands in pockets, a touch of amusement in his dark eyes. A few years older than I, he had been a thorn in my side since childhood, one of those relatives who made it his business to be a nuisance simply because he could.
I didn't pause in my walking. "Not now, Vincent."
He stepped in front of me, halting me. "What, no warm welcomes? We're family, Fiorella."
I exhaled slowly, biting back a searing retort. "Move."
He smirked, his head tilted to the side. "You know, I heard my father had a little talk with you. Must've been riveting."
I said nothing. I just stared at him, uninterested.
Vincent leaned in, his voice lowering. "You think you can handle this, but be real… you're in way over your head."
My fists tightened at my sides, but I was not going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "Interesting. I don't recall soliciting your opinion."
He laughed. "No, but you'll be hearing it anyway. You can carry our family name, but you don't have what it takes to lead. You should let someone else, someone capable, take the reins before you embarrass yourself."
Something cold and sharp sliced through my veins. I moved in closer, my voice low but with a steel edge. "If you or anyone else thinks they can take this away from me, go ahead. See how far you'll get."
His smirk faltered a bit, but then he shrugged, as though he was enjoying this entire exchange. "Don't say I didn't warn you, cousin."
I held his stare for another moment before I finally stepped away him. He let me go this time, but I could sense his eyes on my back, and it only fuelled the fire that was already raging in my chest.
I was seething by the time I reached Rocco.
He looked at me, reading my expression immediately. "What did he do?"
"Vincent," I muttered, rubbing my temples.
Rocco's expression turned hard. "What did he say?"
“The same. That I'm not capable, that I need to get out of the way." I let out a bitter laugh. "It seems to be the theme of the day."
Rocco's expression darkened. "And what did you say to him?"
I met his gaze. "That if he wants to try to take this from me, he can go ahead and try."
Something glinted in Rocco's eyes, something like pride beneath the stormy intensity.
"Good," he said simply.
I breathed out, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. "I don't have time for them to question me. I have too much to do."
Rocco nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Then let's do it."
I regarded him for a moment, then nodded slightly to him.
I was not alone in this.
No matter what my uncle or cousin thought, no matter what obstacles they tried to put in my way.
I was going to prove them all wrong.