Chapter 11
Marcus blamed Bianca when he realized the capos were done with him.
Predictable.
“She pushed it too far.”
I stared at him.
“You lunged for the phone.”
“Because she panicked.”
“You threatened Emma.”
“She misunderstood.”
“You discussed boarding school.”
“Planning options isn’t abuse.”
Always language.
Always distance.
I leaned back.
“What did you want?”
He said nothing.
“Not Bianca.”
Silence.
“Not Lucy.”
Still nothing.
“You.”
His expression changed.
There.
Marcus wanted an operational role.
Bianca’s marriage would place him inside Romano permanently.
Not as an outsider associate.
As family adjacent to the boss.
If the household council formed, Marcus would control security coordination during my absences.
That was the prize.
“Your sister was the bride.”
I looked at him.
“You were marrying my organization through her.”
His face hardened.
“That’s insulting.”
“Accurate.”
He stood.
My guards moved.
I raised one hand.
Let him stand.
He needed to feel how little it changed.
“You think blood makes you untouchable.”
“No.”
I almost smiled.
“I think blood made you careless.”
He stared.
“You assumed Bianca marrying me meant you could build authority before the vows even happened.”
Silence.
“You assumed Lucy was too young to matter.”
Silence.
“And Emma too poor to be dangerous.”
That one hurt him.
Good.
He had ignored the one person holding a phone.
I stripped Marcus of every Romano-associated role.
No meetings.
No estate access.
No indirect command through Bianca.
Nothing.
Not execution.
Not spectacle.
Access removed.
That was enough.
May you like
Men like Marcus rarely understand how much power depends on doors opening automatically.
Mine stopped.
