Chapter 3 - The Confession of a King
I didn't let them walk away.
I couldn't.
I called my lead driver,
Tony,
and told him to bring the armored SUV to the park entrance.
Isabella tried to protest,
her voice sharp with a mother's instinct to protect.
"We have a bus to catch,
Alessandro,"
she said,
clutching Lily’s hand.
"We don't belong in your black cars."
"The bus is no longer an option,"
I replied,
my voice regaining its iron tone.
"You just told me I have a daughter."
"That makes you the two most important people in this city."
"And this city is full of people who want to hurt me."
I saw the fear flicker in her eyes,
the same fear she had shown when she first saw my gun eight years ago.
Lily,
however,
looked fascinated.
"Is it a fast car?"
she asked,
her sadness forgotten for a moment.
"The fastest,"
I told her,
offering a small smile that felt alien on my face.
We walked to the edge of the park,
my bodyguards appearing from the trees like shadows.
They didn't ask questions;
they simply formed a perimeter around the woman and the child.
Inside the SUV,
the air was cool and smelled of leather.
Isabella sat as far from me as possible,
watching the city lights through the tinted glass.
"Why now?"
I asked,
looking at her profile.
"Why didn't you tell me back then?"
"I saw the news,
Alessandro,"
she said,
not looking at me.
"I saw the bodies that fell in your wake."
"I saw the man you became after you left that basement."
"You weren't the boy I stitched up;
you were a king of ghosts."
"I didn't want my daughter to be another ghost."
I looked at my hands,
the hands that had signed death warrants and ordered hits.
She was right.
I had become exactly what I needed to be to survive,
but I had lost my humanity in the process.
"And Sofia?"
I asked.
"The wedding tomorrow?"
Isabella finally looked at me,
her expression pained.
"I've been a maid in your circle for a year,
Alessandro."
"I worked for the families you do business with."
"I heard the whispers."
"Sofia has been seeing Marcus for months."
"Everyone knew the baby wasn't yours except for you."
"They laughed behind your back while you built that nursery."
The rage surged in my chest,
hot and blinding.
Marcus was a rival,
a man who thought he could steal my legacy and my pride.
But Isabella touched my arm,
her hand soft and grounding.
"Don't,"
she said.
"Not in front of her."
I looked at Lily,
who was pressing her face against the window,
watching the neon signs of Times Square.
The rage didn't vanish,
but it settled into a cold,
calculated resolve.
Sofia would pay.
Marcus would pay.
May you like
But first,
I had to bring my family home.
