Alice's POV
I slid into the rear of the black sedan like a second skin; no words, but merely silent resolve and the burden of everything that I smothered five years ago. The driver did not utter a word, just sped away from the hotel with the brash wind through the streets of a city that once belonged to my father. It was now run by shadows who bore the surname Hunt. I peered out the window, its essence coming into view in the distance as the spirit of the Monroe estate revealed itself with marble bones.
That was my legacy.
And theirs, whether they would claim it or not.
_____________________________________
The gates groaned as they swung open. The guards let me in.
They knew me.
Here, blood is louder than bullets.
Inside, there was tension. Five men sat in the drawing-room: older, threatening, the type who can start wars with a glance. The Mafia Council.
Giving orders from the dinner table was Arturo Vescari.
Silver hair. Unyielding eyes.
He kissed my forehead when I was little. And now he was gazing at me like I was a pawn with perfect curves.
"Very stupid or very brave, girl," he said to me.
I smiled tactfully. "Isn't it the custom for an heir to return?"
He snorted. "Your father left no official heir. Only rumours. And. absence."
"I am Alice Monroe," I cut in. "I'm no rumour."
Silence.
Then Arturo relaxed back, fingers tented: "The estate will be yours."
My heart stopped.
"What of protection? Safety? Your name no longer commands respect."
I remained silent.
He smiled. "There are words. A peace. A wedding that will have the wolves from your back and the land in your hands."
I had already seen it coming, but I readied.
"Marry Jermin Hunt."
Boom.
There it was.
The venom. The offer. The trap. The opportunity.
I tilted my head. "If I say no?"
"You will not make it through the month. Nor will the boy you are hiding."
My breath halted.
Arturo's smile was wicked. "You didn't think we wouldn't know?"
I clenched my fists under the table, but my voice wasn't trembling as I replied steadily, "Then it is a good thing I came prepared to say yes."
He arched an eyebrow. "Are you quite sure?"
I smiled as ice flowed through my veins. "Absolutely. I always knew what the price was. You have just made it cheaper to pay."
But inside?
Inside, I was bleeding once more.
_____________________________________
Flashback-Five years ago
The past always came back in pain and heat.
"You shouldn't be here," Jermin grumbled as he slammed me into the wall of his office, his gunpowder and illicit heat scent overwhelming me.
It did not matter. "I missed you."
His jaw firmed, hands on my hips, too tight to be bearable. "You think missing me justifies this?"
I pressed my lips against his jaw. "You want me."
"You are Liam Monroe's daughter," he snarled. "And this will destroy everything."
I jerked on the brown leather belt cinched around his waist. "Then destroy it."
His eyes went black.
Then, his hand clenched around my neck, hard and possessive. "Sit."
And I dropped to my knees.
He filled me with each shred of his rage and lust that snapped back in the most savage of ways.
"What does it taste like?" he asked between gasps.
"Mmm. strong," I moaned.
"Good girl," he whispered, starving and broken. "But I will never choose you."
The words cut through my heart.
"Because you will always choose the crown instead of me," I whispered back.
He kissed me—hard, punishing. "I didn't build an empire to throw it away for love."
And then he left me naked on the floor, wanting him, hating him, loving him.
________________________________________
Presently
Now, they wanted to get me hooked on him.
With chin held high, I would walk back into the fire.
Make him think that this marriage is for peace.
Make him think that he still holds the cards.
But Jermin Hunt was soon going to learn-
I didn't come back to be loved.
I came back to rule.
The room was still soaked with the silence of my "yes" as I slowly, with force, unzipped the sleek leather folder before me.
Five sets of creased, wrinkled, power-hungry eyes anticipated.
I slid one bright photograph across the table.
Then another one.
And another.
And another.
Until every single member of the council stared at a condemning piece of their filthy secret.
Arturo Vescari snapped, smiling alongside a 22-year-old mistress on the Amalfi coast.
Tomas Calderón was caught red-handed paying hush money to a woman with a bloated belly.
Luca-"the family man"-snorted lines off a naked woman in Prague.
And the rest?
Wives. Children. Vulnerabilities. Leverage.
I sprawled in my chair like a queen on her throne. "You think you are the only ones who have been watching."
Arturo's expression turned dark. "What is this?"
"My insurance," I said quietly. "For every picture you have, I have five more. Some. Moving. Some. trackless."
Tomas growled and stood. "Are you threatening us?"
"No." I smiled very slowly, very wickedly. "I'm giving you clarity."
I stood, pushing my chair back without breaking eye contact.
"If one word, one syllable, about my son passes out of this room, I will not scream. I will not plead. I will not flee to Jermin Hunt to hide."
I locked eyes with every man in the room.
"I will see you burn your legacies to the ground. I will expose your sins and let your enemies ridicule your families."
"You dare-"
"I defy all of it," I hurled, voice icily chilly with a fire burning to existence with ice and rage. "Because I lost the only man who ever fought for me. Now, the only thing I wish is that my son does not have to live in a world where men like you believe they deserve their throne."
It was a quiet that you could feel.
And I let one last photo fall, that one of Arturo's grandson laughing on a schoolyard with no guards in sight.
He lost all colour suddenly.
"Let us never speak of him again," I spoke softly. "For your good."
I turned, coat billowing behind me like a war standard.
Outside, I took deep, cold air for a shot of revenge.
They expected me to come back to beg.
Let them think that it was their suggestion to marry me.
Le
t them think Jermin was my cell.
Because soon enough…
They will see that I hold the key.
And the flame.