(VALENTINO'S POV)
The name flashing across my screen is one I've been dreading for a hot minute.
Yeah, I've been expecting this call ever since the heist went live on the news.
Honestly, I'm surprised it took him this long. At least I enjoyed the peace while it lasted.
I stare at the screen for a few seconds, my thumb hovering over the answer button. Then I sigh, drag a hand through my hair, and press accept.
"SEI UN IDIOTA BUONO A NULLA!" (YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING IDIOT!)
Jesus Christ.
I wince, pulling the phone away from my ear a little. His voice blasts through the speaker so loud it feels like he's right here in the room.
He continues. "VALENTINO CRISTIANO VIPERA!"
Oh, fuck. He used the middle name.
Yeah, this is about to go to hell.
"Papà, I—"
"You what?!" he roars. "Che cazzo ti avevo detto, huh?" (What the fuck did I tell you, huh?)
"You had one simple job—uno!" he continues. "Build quietly, work slowly, and keep eyes off us. But no, you think you're some fucking Hollywood action star in a good damn action movie!"
One simple job? He listed three but who's counting.
"Papà, listen, I—"
"SHUT UP!"
I bite back the urge to snap. My jaw tightens instead.
"You think you can go around blowing up police cruisers, stealing from banks, making the fucking news—and somehow that doesn't come back to me?!"
I grind my teeth, my patience thinning fast.
He keeps going relentlessly. "Now your face is all over the goddamn internet! The whole fucking world knows you as the Sons of the Viper! You've turned a quiet operation into a circus!"
My grip on the phone tightens. "None of that matters, Papà," I shoot back, trying to steady my tone. "I made back almost eight times what we lost."
There's a pause. Long enough for me to think maybe—just maybe—he'll calm down.
"Do you think through your fucking asshole?!" he snaps. "I don't give a flying fuck if you made a billion dollars! You were given simple orders, semplice! And you disobeyed me!"
I squeeze my eyes shut, starting to feel a burning in my chest.
"Because of your foolishness and your reckless bullshit, you've put us all in danger! You've dragged the Vipera name into the spotlight! What will you do when the U.S. government starts cracking down on all your operations! Enemies we didn't even know existed will be crawling out of their graves for your head! You want to play gangster, Valentino? These flashy moves of yours, this ego of yours… it'll get you killed, boy."
He spits that last part like venom. And then… the line goes quiet.
I think maybe he's done. Then he exhales heavily.
"I can't believe my own blood would act like this," he says, his voice lower now, but heavier. Each word lands like a bullet. "You're a disgrace to my name. I should've smothered you the moment you were born."
That one—
That one hit deep.
For a second, I can't breathe. My heart hammered so hard against my chest that it hurt. I turn away from Krystal, because I can feel her eyes on me. She's still in bed, half-covered in the sheets, watching silently, her brows creased in concern and I can't—fuck—I can't let her see me like this.
I swallow hard, blink rapidly, willing the sting in my eyes to go away so the gathering tears don't fall. I drag in a breath, shaky but enough to speak.
"Papà…" My voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again, softer this time, in Italian. "Mi dispiace." (I'm sorry)
I add quietly, "I was just trying to fix—"
"Chiudi quella fottuta bocca sporca!" (Shut that dirty fucking mouth!) he snaps, cutting me off mid-sentence.
There's another long stretch of silence. I can hear him breathing—slower now, heavier. Then, in a tone so calm it chills me to the bone, he says,
"I know what I'll do with you."
The line goes dead.
I stood there for a moment with the phone still pressed to my ear, the silence suddenly louder than his yelling was. Then I lower my hand slowly, the weight of his words settling in my chest like lead.
I try to breathe, but my chest feels like it's been crushed in a vice. Every inhale scrapes down my throat like sandpaper. I tell myself I never meant for any of this to happen.
The plan was clean.
Precise.
But that mask slipped for two fucking seconds. Two!
Suddenly the whole world knows my face and now, everything's on fire.
My father's voice still echoes in my head, harsh and merciless.
"I should've smothered you the moment you were born."
That cut deeper than anything else he's ever said.
Why can't he see it? Why can't he understand that everything I do is for this family? That I made sure everyone walked away alive while still walking out with more money than we lost?
But no.
He only ever sees the mess. Never the reason behind it. Never the fight it takes to pull it off.
No matter what I do, it's never enough for him. It never fucking will be.
That thought lodges deep, right in my chest, and I feel it break something inside me. My shoulders tremble before I can stop it, and for the first time in a long time, I actually let go. The tears slip free, streaking down my face.
I drag my shaky hand through my hair, trying to steady myself, but the ache won't go away. My pulse hammers in my ears.
Then it happens. Something inside me snaps.
A raw scream from deep within my chest, tears out of me before I even realize it, and I hurl my phone across the room. It slams into the wall, breaking into pieces. The sound echoes through the room like a gunshot.
And then it's quiet again. Too fucking quiet.
I stand there, breathing hard, fists clenched at my sides. My chest heaves, my vision blurs for a second, and then I force myself to breathe.
In… and out. Again and again, until the storm in my head starts to fade.
When I finally open my eyes, I wipe the last of the tears off my face then I turn around.
Krystal's sitting up in bed, the sheet clutched against her chest, her eyes wide but silent. She looks like she's not sure if she should come to me or stay exactly where she is.
I lock eyes with her and speak, my voice deep and dangerous.
"Get on your elbows and knees. Ass up in the air. Now."