Chapter 4

Beth's POV

Through tear-stained eyes, I looked up in surprise and confusion the moment the guns turned on Dante. I was unsure if this was a lifeline or the end of the line for me and I tried to piece together what was happening.

I glanced at Nico beside me and saw that he was just as surprised as I was. Antonio chuckled as he saw our faces and helped Nico to his feet all the while staring intently at me.

Nico had said that the Consigliere was my father and as much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't do so as genetics and my eyes confirmed it. He was an older replica of Henry, my brother. The resemblance was too striking the more I looked on.

“You sly fox. You were always one for theatrics. I almost fell for it all and thought you were on his side,” Nico said, embracing him with a thump on his shoulder.

“I must admit, I put up quite the show. Watching you two clash heads was as satisfying as I had imagined though I had to step in before it got too late,” He said, with a faint British accent.

“I can imagine. How did you do it?” Nico asked while dusting his blazer.

“I tipped him off on your plans for the girl and to push him further, I told him that you tried talking me into usurping him. He acted like we knew he would.”

I could see Dante behind them getting worked up by how he was being ignored and his face grew more red by the minute.

“Traitor. At least have the decency to look me in the face while you're talking. You're going to help the pup to power, I can only imagine how the rest of the family would react when you do so.”

Antonio turned back towards Dante and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Please, Dante. You've been out of touch for a long time. Your time is up. The men see it, and even you must know it. I didn’t even have to convince them. The family needs a change. Due to the respect we have, we'll only exile you if you step down willingly but I doubt you will do so.”

“Being my confidant and friend from childhood, you must be crazy to think I'll give up my position. I'll have your head for this.”

“I'm glad you mentioned that. When was the last time you followed my advice? My position is useless and this group needs restructuring after all the havoc you've caused going against imaginary enemies and all. Don't even get me started on the mismanagement of funds.”

“You all think you can manage this circus without me?” Dante spat, his voice laced with venom. “You and your puppet master here—none of you understand what it takes to hold Cosa Nostra together. You’ll tear it apart.”

Nico stepped forward, brushing imaginary dust from his blazer with an insufferable calm. “Dante, let’s not pretend you’ve held anything together. The men follow my orders, not yours. Half the operations are under my control already. You’re merely a figurehead.”

Dante’s lip curled in disdain, but his silence spoke volumes.

Antonio leaned in, his faint British accent cutting through the tension like a blade. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it? Your stiff taxes, your insatiable thirst for blood—it’s alienated the family. You’ve turned allies into enemies, Dante. It wasn’t hard to convince the others that change was necessary.”

Dante’s eyes burned with hatred, his fists trembling. “You betrayed me! You sold me out for what? To prop up a boy who thinks he’s ready to rule?”

Nico let out a cold laugh. “Rule? Dante, I’ve been running this show for years. You’re just now realizing it. While you were chasing imaginary enemies and lining your pockets, I was keeping the real work moving. The men have seen it. They trust me.”

Antonio spread his arms wide in a mockery of diplomacy. “You can leave with your life, Dante. Step down willingly. Or...” He left the implication hanging.

Dante’s attention suddenly shifted to me, “Ive seen the way you look at her, who the hell is she, Antonio? A relative, your lost daughter perhaps? Ah, I'm right, she's the one.”

To his credit, Antonio was still composed despite Dante’s provocation. “That’s none of your concern. Let’s not pretend you have the moral high ground to question anyone about loyalty.”

“Oh, I think it’s very much my concern. You’ve thrown the entire family into chaos, Antonio just to play a doting father to some girl you abandoned years ago? Does she even know the world you’ve dragged her into?”

I flinched at his words as it hung heavy in the air, and I knew that it was intended to hurt Antonio.

Nico stepped in, his voice sharp. “Enough with the mind games and focus on the issue at hand.”

Dante’s hand moved in a flash, and the sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the tense silence. Antonio staggered backward, clutching his side as blood bloomed through his crisp white shirt.

“Antonio!” I screamed, my voice breaking as I stumbled toward him, but Nico’s arm shot out, stopping me in my tracks.

“Stay back,” Nico ordered, his tone like steel as he collected a gun from one of his men and fired at Dante who was trying to escape in the commotion. The bullet hit Dante’s foot and he groaned loudly as he went down.

Besides us, Antonio groaned too as he gritted his teeth against the pain. “Nico,” he hissed, “get her out of here. Now.”

“Don’t worry about me. Get her to the car. She doesn’t need to see this.” Antonio said further as he saw that Nico wanted to help him up.

Nico hesitated, his jaw tightening as he assessed the scene. Finally, he nodded, grabbing my arm with a firm grip. “Come on, Beth. We’re leaving.”

“But he’s hurt—” I protested, my voice shaking as I tried to resist.

“He’ll be fine,” Nico snapped. “Move.”

I had no choice but to follow as he led me through the path towards the car. My mind raced and my heart pounded as the sound of muffled voices and shouts faded behind us.

When we reached the car, Nico all but shoved me inside. “Stay here,” he ordered, his eyes locking onto mine with a piercing intensity. “Don’t move, don’t open the door, and for God’s sake, don’t run off. You'll be hit by a stray bullet if you do.”

I nodded numbly, sinking into the seat as Nico slammed the door shut. My hands were trembling as I sat there, alone in the silence of the car.

And then, without thinking, I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. My hands moved on autopilot, navigating to the camera app. If I was going to be dragged into this mess, I wasn’t going to be a silent bystander.

I hit the “live” button, my shaky voice whispering into the camera. “I’m in the hands of the Cosa Nostra right now and this is what is happening here. A coup is going on.”

I turned the lens toward the scene behind me—the screen filled with viewers in seconds, the numbers climbing rapidly. My heart pounded as I whispered, “This is the truth.”

And I didn’t stop recording.