Chapter 7
I was Sebastian’s only child.
Publicly, almost nobody knew.
Privately, several old Mafia families suspected there was an heir.
They didn’t know my age.
My face.
Whether I had children.
That uncertainty had protected me for years.
Preston had been trying to solve it.
Through my father.
While humiliating the answer in front of him.
I looked at Victoria.
“What did you plan if Sebastian’s daughter had a child?”
She smiled thinly.
“This is ridiculous.”
Tiffany answered.
“Wait.”
I turned.
She looked uneasy now.
Less cruel.
More frightened.
“Marcus said a child complicated everything.”
“Why?”
“Because old Pembroke capos might follow blood before marriage.”
My father said nothing.
He didn’t need to.
That was true.
Not paperwork.
Not inheritance.
Old Mafia loyalty.
A visible child linked directly to Pembroke blood could become a symbol rival families couldn’t control.
I looked at Preston.
“So you needed the daughter unmarried.”
“Yes.”
The answer slipped out.
He closed his eyes.
I continued.
“And childless.”
Silence.
Victoria stepped forward.
“No one planned to hurt children.”
I laughed once.
“Only hypothetical ones?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Oh, stop performing.”
My father moved.
I touched his arm.
“No.”
Still mine.
Victoria looked at my scraped hands.
Her mouth curled.
“You’re enjoying this now.”
“No.”
“You should be embarrassed.”
“For what?”
“For kneeling when you could have stopped us.”
There it was.
Blame again.
“If you had told us who you were, none of this would have happened.”
I stared.
“You mean you only abuse powerless women.”
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Preston snapped:
“You manipulated us.”
I almost smiled.
“I cleaned your floor.”
“You hid power.”
“Yes.”
“You made me look like a monster.”
“No.”
I glanced at Tiffany’s videos.
“You did that yourself.”
Silence.
Then my father’s phone vibrated.
One of his men whispered in his ear.
Sebastian looked toward the ballroom entrance.
“What?”
I asked.
“Marcus Caldwell is here.”
Victoria went white.
Preston looked relieved.
That interested me.
May you like
The man behind the “old family solution” had arrived—
and my fiancé believed his presence would somehow save him.
