Chapter 5– A wife. An heir.

VERMONT

Blood oozed out, painting the white sheets crimson as I stood over her. 

Her small, fragile body lay still, and the knife I had plunged into her belly gleamed under the dim light, a reminder of the brutality I'd just inflicted. 

I sighed. 

The sound of her last whimper lingered in the room, filling my senses as though the air refused to let go of it. 

Her skin has already paled. 

It was my doing, my knife, my hand. 

This wasn't my first time, I should feel nothing.

I was merely dominating my territory–

But… a gnawing feeling twisted in my chest, a faint whisper of unease. 

I forced it down. 

Emotions are useless and I have no space for them in my world.

This was a consequence of her stupid action. She’d been foolish to challenge me– to raise a weapon at me in my home. 

My kingdom. 

I merely dealt with her the only way I knew how— with violence. 

Yet, as I stared at her motionless form, my chest tightened. 

      The door whooshed open behind me, Giovanni's voice cutting through the tension.

"Boss," he started cautiously, "we have a visitor down—"

He froze mid-sentence as his gaze landed on Grace, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“What the hell did you do to her?!" He yelled. “Don't tell me you fucking killed her!" his voice was harsh with alarm. 

I narrowed my eyes at him as he walked in "What do you think I should’ve done? Let her stab me?" 

My voice was as cold as ice, but even as I spoke, the weight in my chest deepened.

"Boss, you could've restrained her. She’s just a girl," Giovanni muttered, shaking his head, clearly unsettled as he scrutinized Grace's body. 

I didn't stab her in a fatal place; it was just a dip into the lateral part of her abdomen. 

I needed her to understand that I was Vermont Cardoniss. 

Grace had been caught on CCTV stealing a knife from the kitchen. The guys had already informed me before she made her silly move, and I just had to pretend, luring her to me like a lamb to its slaughterhouse. 

Giovanni shifted uncomfortably but knew better than to press further. 

He had served me long enough to understand that I took challenges really seriously. 

"Who's the visitor?" I asked, trying to lose interest in the girl lying on my bed. 

She was nothing. A pawn. And yet… her defiance had been unexpected.

My concern about her is even more unexpected.

“A messenger,” Giovanni finally replied, still shaken. “He said he's from Alonso– Apparently, he has news.”

Alonso. 

The name sent a familiar shiver of irritation down my spine. 

Alonso is the family's consigliere or rather– My father’s consigliere. 

He’d been my father’s right-hand man for years, even now as my father wasted away in his bed.

Alonso had always been a shadow, lurking, waiting to remind me of the weight of my position in the family.

Whenever he came around, it was always with a creepy purpose, and it was never good. 

A new mission, a blood-soaked task to test my resolve and my loyalty to the family. 

But I had proven myself more than a hundred times— eliminated every threat, every rival that stood in the family’s way. There were no more wars left to fight, no enemies left to bury.

“What the fuck is it this time?" I muttered as I brushed past Giovanni and strode into the hallway, the walls of my mansion echoing with power and history.

Marble floors stretched beneath my feet, lined with crimson rugs that led toward the main lounge. I descended the grand staircase into the lounge, and there stood the messenger. 

He was small, pale, and visibly trembling. 

His thin frame looked out of place in the grandness of the room, wearing a cheap suit that clung awkwardly to his bony frame, his eyes darting around fearfully.

With this, I could tell he wasn't one of Alonso’s men, but rather an offender Alonso l wanted me to take care of. 

"Boss," Ryan, one of my trusted men approached quietly, "this is the messenger from Alonso."

I stepped forward, my presence towering over the man as I fixed my gaze on him. 

His lips quivered as he spoke. "Mr. Vermont, sir. Sir Alonso Cardoniss has sent me to you..." He fumbled with his words, his voice shaking. "He—he wanted me to inform you that he’ll be visiting soon.”

“And, what's his purpose?" 

"H-he merely said it's an important issue of tradition and you can't become the Don without sealing it.”

I didn’t need to hear more. I knew exactly what Alonso’s “important issue” was.

The only thing standing between me and complete control of the family. 

A wife– An heir. 

My teeth clenched at the thought – Having a wife and heir to seal my position as the next Mafia boss of The Cardoniss.

I had known this moment would come, but that didn’t make it any less infuriating. 

I sighed, studying the messenger and shoving the message aside for a moment. 

“So, what was your offense against the consigliere?" I asked boringly. 

He looked up at me nervously, his eyes drifting to the blood stains on my hand. “I–I s-swear, I didn't do it on purpose. The situation was a com–" 

"Save your fucking explanation and cut to the chase.” My head tilted, suddenly interested in the matter. 

“W-what I did was– it was–,” He stuttered, his Adam's apple bobbing repeatedly. "I–It was rape," he finally blurted, shakingly. “She was so pretty, I just thought it–”

His words seemed to echo furiously in my head. 

"That's no big deal, It's okay." I smiled coldly, drawing closer to him.

His eyes widened in utter distraught. 

"Tell Alonso..." I paused, drawing my gun in one fluid motion, "I’m looking forward to his visit." And then I pulled the trigger.

The man dropped to the floor, dead before his body hit the ground. His blood spilled onto the polished marble, soaking into the rug beneath him. 

Ryan, unfazed, gestured for the guards to clean up the mess. 

        I retreated to my study, the heavy oak door closing behind me with a soft click.

My mind was already racing ahead, contemplating my next move as I stared at the flickering light from the fireplace. 

A wife, an heir.

The word echoed in my head, knowing that if I wasn’t careful, I’d find myself shackled to a woman of their choosing.

The thought alone made my blood boil. 

I needed a plan. 

Rather, I needed a wife as soon as possible– one that suited MY purposes. 

One who’d wholly belong to me, be without thirst for power in the Mafia world, and also obey me heedlessly. 

Just a figurehead wife for me to take over the position of my father.

I dare not stall for more than two days– I knew Alonso pretty well. 

But…where was I supposed to find a bride swiftly? 

If I have someone search for an orphan who–

The wheels of my thought halted as a solution popped up– My little pet.

I didn't even know her name but she definitely is the perfect bride I needed. 

Perfect but disobedient. 

Her level of defiance was still quite surprising but it's no cause for alarm.

Molding her into what I wanted wouldn't be a problem. It never was. 

I smiled, pouring myself a glass of whiskey, and downing it in one go…. like a celebration of victory. 

If Alonso thought he could control me and plant a spy in my home, he was highly mistaken.

Still grinning, I was about to slump into my seat when the realization hit me.

I froze. 

I didn't have the slightest idea of how my little pet was doing. If she's still breathing or has lost too much blood. 

Abruptly, I exited my study, stepping into the hallway, and ascending the stairs back to my room. 

"Giovanni," I called out, my voice sharper than intended as I roughly pushed the door open. 

"Yes, boss?” He answered, his eyes wary as he strode out of the inner room. 

I paused, my next words coming slowly, reluctantly. "T-the girl. How's she? Still… alive?"

Giovanni raised an eyebrow, surprised by my request. “I hope it's not that you need something from her.’

“Why do you say so?” I inquired, my eyes almost popping out of my head.

“Because she can't answer to you anymore."