Ch. I Watch 13 I Watch 13

Chapter 13 

Three years passed in the blink of an eye. I became the youngest member of the Family Commission and the only female Chief Consigliere in the history of the Five Families. 

At the solemn annual high-level summit, in front of all the Capos, Vittorio personally bowed his head to me. Thunderous applause erupted from both sides of the long table as all the mob bosses raised their glasses in submission. 

It was already evening by the time the summit dispersed. 

A fine, steady drizzle fell outside, blanketing the cobblestone streets of the old city. 

I drove alone to the Family cemetery on the outskirts of the city. The gold iris pin on my lapel glinted faintly in the rainy light. 

I laid a bouquet of white roses in front of my parents’ grave. 

“Papa, Mamma,” I knelt down, my voice soft. “I brought back the Family’s honor and rules.” 

“From now on, I will guard the rules of this coast for you.” 

The cold rain drifted down, and the ivy on the walls rustled in the wind, as if in silent reply. 

As I opened my black umbrella and turned to leave, I caught sight of a man standing in the distant drizzle from the corner of my eye. 

It was Julian. 

He wore a crumpled, old suit, the shoulders sagging, his temples far grayer than they had been three years ago. 

I’d heard he had lost his rank as Capo, suffering crushing defeats within his own Family. Recently, he’d been demoted to a common street collector. 

He watched me from afar, without approaching, without speaking. 

Rainwater dripped down from his bangs. 

I gave him a single glance. Those eyes, which had once carried the weight of the world for me in our youth, now looked exhausted and unfamiliar in the rain. 

I felt nothing. 

The night rain was a blur. The pinnacle of power was lonely, but it was safe. 

It was all as rock-solid as the path my father had paved with his own life. 

A motorcade of black Escalades drove down the rainy highway, heading toward my sprawling commercial empire. 

I raised my hand, my fingertips gently brushing against the cold, golden iris pin on my lapel. 

I was no longer anyone’s wife or anyone’s weakness. 

I was the rule. 

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