Chapter 8
The bright, natural sunlight illuminated the sheer terror settling into Nolan’s bruised face. He looked at the line of heavily armed Capos standing rigidly behind Serafina, realizing that his entire understanding of the family’s power structure was a catastrophic illusion.
"Why are they protecting you?" Nolan repeated, his voice barely a whimper now. "Victor was the boss... he said you just signed the checks. He told us he was the one giving the orders to the street!"
"Victor told you exactly what I wanted him to tell you," Serafina replied. Her voice was smooth, dark, and utterly terrifying in its calm delivery. "A smart ruler never wears her crown in public, Nolan. She lets the arrogant, loud men think they are in charge, while she holds the leash."
"No," Victor gasped from the wreckage of the canopy, struggling to push himself up on one trembling arm. "I built this faction... the men respect me..."
"The men respect power, Victor," Serafina corrected, not even turning to look at the broken old man. "And true power doesn't need to yell at children in a garden to prove it exists."
Serafina took a slow, deliberate step forward. The polished leather of her shoes crushed a piece of the broken canopy frame into the dirt.
"You thought you could stage a coup today," Serafina said, her sharp eyes piercing straight through Nolan’s pathetic bravado. "You thought you would humiliate my son, goad me into a reaction, and then use your father’s old loyalists to arrest me. You thought the Capos would side with the traditional patriarchy."
Nolan swallowed hard, blood trickling down his chin. He realized, with sickening clarity, that she had known about their plan the entire time.
"You walked into a trap, Nolan," Serafina whispered.
As if triggered by her words, the Capos standing behind her moved in perfect, chilling synchronization. Every single one of the hardened, lethal men slowly lowered his head, bowing deeply and respectfully toward Serafina. It was a profound, undeniable declaration of absolute fealty.
Nolan’s face became a mask of pure, unadulterated fright. His fair skin turned completely ashen.
"What... what are you going to do to us?" Nolan stammered, scrambling backward on his hands and knees, desperate to get away from her.
"Someone who’s about to die," Serafina said, her voice quiet, steady, and incredibly lethal, "doesn’t need to know the truth."
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"Serafina, please!" Victor cried out from the bench, his arrogance finally broken by the absolute certainty of his impending execution. "We are family! You can't kill your own blood!"
"You stopped being blood," Serafina replied, adjusting the gold signet ring on her finger, "the second you put your hands on my son."
