"You can't be serious," I hiss between gritted teeth.
Alessandro hums, then looks at me with a measured gaze. "I'm very serious."
"Dante is too stupid, he can't be the head of our Family! He will be just as much of a disappointment as Enrico was," I furrow my brows. I rarely lose my composure like this, especially in front of my uncle, but I can't help myself this time.
"He'll be under my thumb," the man says, narrowing his eyes.
I bite my lip, "Still..."
Sure, Alessandro is just setting Dante up as another puppet for him to control—but I know my cousin better than to think he would actually be obedient. He will inevitably pull some stupid stunt and drag our name through the mud.
…But that isn't all that's bothering me.
As much as I've distanced myself from the mess of our family's hierarchy, it still hurts to know that I am the one who should possess the empire. It's rightfully mine. I should be the one to lead us.
I will be the one to lead us… just, not yet.
"Who do you suggest I replace Enrico with, then?" Alessandro poses a question, but his tone is unabashedly mocking. "A woman like you? Sure, you're obedient and efficient, but no one would respect your authority. The Marchesis have never had a female head in our one hundred years of work. You're far more useful as a consigliere, out of everyone's view."
I want to argue, but I know it's useless. Alessandro does, surprisingly, listen to me when it comes to a lot of things—he knows I am competent and informed—but he wouldn't heed a word I said about something like this. He's a power-hungry monster that pretends to follow our Family's traditions.
What a joke.
It's a dire sin to kill your blood, punishable by death—and he killed my father, his brother, anyway. Then he shot my mother to follow her husband to an early grave.
Alessandro is utterly unaware that I know what he is, what he did. No one could have guessed I would overhear him talking with his stupid goons about it afterwards.
"You're right," I say, lowering my head respectfully. "I apologize for questioning you."
"Hmm…" he regards me thoughtfully, then says, "I'm aware of my son's bad personality and even worse habits. However, he's the easiest to manipulate—besides, I have my gifted niece working with me to clean up his mess."
'My gifted niece.'
I want to throw up when he says that bullshit. Alessandro is the most facetious, two-faced dick to walk on Earth. In front of his children, he treats me coldly to make them feel favored. In front of the public and family, he treats me like I am his beloved niece, an adopted daughter, the last remnant of the brother he 'loved' so much.
Then, behind closed doors, he treats me as a mix of both—which is most accurate. He speaks to me as his right-hand, a blend of authority but an unmistakable hint of respect and gratitude.
He knows that I'm a pillar to our syndicate, and he doesn't want to lose me. Of course, if I fail my mission to kill Lucius, he will kill me whether he wants to or not… because, at the end of the day, his pride and ego win out over everything else.
…On the topic of Lucius, I wonder if he has sent me any more texts today. I haven't been able to check the phone since I can't risk Alessandro finding it, so it has been locked up in my room all day.
"Of course, uncle," I smile thinly. "I'll help you take care of things."
"Good girl," he nods, seemingly pleased. I fight the urge to cringe at the use of 'good girl.' After a moment, he curiously raises a brow, "How is your mission going? During our last briefing, you reported that you went to dinner with him. Have you made any more progress?"
"…Nothing yet, but I plan to ask him on another date in a few days," I reply honestly. I have been waiting for him to extend another offer, but I can tell he's toying with me.
He wants me to reach out first because it's boring if he's the only one playing.
Naturally, I have to indulge him.
Alessandro stands from his seat and glides toward me confidently. It irritates me that he still pretends to be permanently injured after the incident when my parents died.
"Be sure you don't mistake charm for affection," Alessandro warns as he steps close, voice smooth and his tacky cologne suffocating. "A man like Ravelle doesn't love; he acquires. Remember that before you start believing he looks at you with anything but calculation."
I keep my tone flat. "I'm well aware, Uncle."
"Good. Because I'd hate to kill you for being sentimental."
——
As I step out of his office, I'm immediately greeted by the sight of Rocco waiting for me in the hall. I almost don't notice at first, since I'm so used to his presence, but he brings me back to earth by uncharacteristically starting a conversation.
"He's testing you again," Rocco follows behind me as I walk with powerful strides toward the kitchen.
I need to eat after wasting so much energy on that fickle dinosaur.
"That's nothing new," I sigh. "He always is."
——
After a satisfying dinner, I return to my bedroom at long last. All day, I've had Lucius in the back of my mind, begging for my attention even without the phone in my pocket. I know there are going to be messages waiting for me, and I know I'm doing this to get close to him and kill him, but… why does it feel so taboo?
I take the device out of my drawer and unlock it, greeted by fourteen message notifications on the screen. Good morning, don't forget to eat lunch… most of them were just ridiculous stickers.
But the most recent message was from only a few minutes ago. It reads:
[When are you going to ask me out?]
My jaw ticks with irritation. I can just see his smug face; stupid bastard always teasing me, pretending to know everything.
I angrily type, [Who said I wanted to go out again?]
His response was immediate:
[It's hard to kill someone if you aren't with them.]
[I'm just being practical.]
Followed by a sticker of a blue cat winking, sticking its tongue out playfully.
I take a deep breath to calm myself. I can't let him get me worked up so easily, no matter how frustrating and abrasive he is. I have to play it cool.
I answer: [You're right. Let's go out.]
I pause, then ask, [When are you free?]
[Right now?] He says, adding a smirking emoji after.
Me: [It's 1am.]
Lucius: [Perfect time for a date.]
Me: [I have a meeting in the morning.]
Lucius: [No, you don't. Your first meeting is at noon.]
"Ugh!" I groan aloud. Why does he know my schedule—no, how does he know my schedule?!
Lucius sends another sticker, this time a bear holding roses, winking. [See you in fifteen minutes.]