The Don’s Favorite Lover Vanished

---- Chapter 18 Chiara's POV I stepped out of the fortified building into the cold Chicago wind. Vincenzo was standing across the street. He had tried to clean himself up, dressed in an expensive Brioni suit, trying to maintain the last shreds of a Don's dignity. But the bloodshot eyes and the exhaustion he couldn't hide gave him away. He saw me, immediately dropped his cigarette, and strode toward me. "What are you doing here?" I stopped. The bodyguards behind me instantly moved to shield me. "J heard about the hearing," his voice was hoarse. "and?" I sneered.

"Here to collect the bodies?" "No." ---- "Then you're here to question why I touched your people?" "Pm not here for them!" His voice was edged with emotion. "I'm here for you!" lignored him and turned toward my car. He suddenly rushed forward, throwing his arms out to block my path. "Chiara, please," his voice held a note of pleading. "Five minutes." Ilooked at him, then at my bodyguards. "Stand down." They stepped back. I didn't get in the car. I just stood there, on a busy street, in front of all our men, and stared at him coldly.

"Say what you have to say here," my voice wasn't loud, but it cut him like a whip. "Let everyone hear what the once-great Don Russo has to say to me now." Vincenzo's face flushed, then paled, but he chose to submit. ---- "Pm sorry," he said, the words a struggle. "I know I was wrong. I..." I took out my phone, started a recording, and turned the screen toward him. "Go on," I said, the screen a cold mirror reflecting his shame. "For posterity. So you can't deny it later." Aviolent tremor went through Vincenzo's body. Pain and humiliation flashed in his eyes, but he continued. "T was blind.

I was a fool. I destroyed everything with my own hands," his voice grew quieter, thick with regret. " Chiara, if you forgive me... Anything," he pleaded. " Money? Power? You can have all of Chicago. Just say the word." "Are you done?" I put my phone away, my tone ice. He froze, stunned by my flat reaction. "That's it? That's all you wanted to say?" I looked at him, a mocking smile on my lips. "Vincenzo, you still don't get it." "Get what?" ---- "You think what I wanted was your Chicago?" I shook my head, then walked slowly toward him until we were only a step apart.

Iraised my hand and gently brushed the lapel of his suit, just like I used to when we were close. A flicker of hope ignited in his eyes. Then, I leaned in, my voice a venomous whisper only he could hear: "What I want... is to watch you kneel. Right here. And beg." His body went rigid. The hope in his eyes shattered into disbelief and agony. I stepped back, my face a cold mask again. "Tt seems you can't do that," I turned and walked to my car. "So don't bother me again." The car started and began to pull away. "Chiara!" he yelled desperately behind me. "I love you!

T've always loved you!" ---- I told the driver to stop. The window slid down. I looked back at him, my face blank. "Vincenzo," my voice was as calm as stating a fact. "You don't love me. You love the idea of me. The version who would obey, who would die for you without a second thought." I paused and delivered the final blow. "And you're the one who killed her." I raised the window, and the car sped away. Behind me, Vincenzo collapsed to his knees on the cold, hard street. In the car, my bodyguard handed me a file.

"Miss, our sources report that three of the Russo family's main shipping terminals in Chicago were hit tonight. Simultaneous attacks by an unknown force. The losses are catastrophic." I watched the shrinking figure kneeling in the road in my rearview mirror. A cold smile touched my lips. ---- That was just... the interest.