Chapter 17 - The Bloodline
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That evening, a private dinner was held in the grand dining room of the Costa mansion.
For the first time in six years, Beatrice didn't serve the food. She sat at the head of the table beside Vincenzo, wearing an emerald silk gown that highlighted her dark eyes. Across from them sat the senior lieutenants of the Costa syndicate—men who ruled the docks, the transport lines, and the city’s political machinery.
Luca raised his wine glass, looking around the long mahogany table.
“To the King,” Luca announced proudly. “And to the woman who kept him on the throne.”
The lieutenants raised their glasses, shouting their approval.
Beatrice smiled softly, feeling the steady heat of Vincenzo’s hand resting over hers beneath the table. She had spent years in this house dodging insults, cleaning floors, and hiding in the shadows of powerful people.
Now, those same people raised their glasses to her name.
After dinner, Vincenzo led her out onto the grand stone terrace overlooking the dark, misty gardens. The cold night air blew gently against her silk dress, but she didn't feel the chill.
“You look like you belong here,” Vincenzo said softly, standing behind her, his arms wrapping gently around her waist.
“I used to think this house was a cage,” Beatrice admitted, leaning back against his chest.
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“And now?”
“Now I think it’s a fortress,” she whispered.
