Chapter 10 - THE CUTTING EDGE
“When the final stitch is pulled, only one person gets to wear the crown.”The cabin door was kicked open with a thunderous BANG.
But it wasn't Silvio’s men.
A dozen heavily armed soldiers in black tactical gear flooded the room, their weapons raised. But instead of firing, they immediately dropped to one knee.
Behind them walked a woman in a sharp, tailored navy blue pantsuit. She was in her late forties, her silver-streaked hair pulled back into a ruthless bun. Her eyes were sharp, calculating, and instantly recognizable to Donatella.
“Fiona,” Cosimo rasped, relaxing slightly against the table.
Fiona Bellini—Cosimo’s older sister, the brilliant legal mind and strategist who managed the legitimate corporate shell companies of the Bellini empire.
“Cosimo,” Fiona said, her voice dripping with executive authority. “You look like hell. And I see you’ve found our missing asset.”
Fiona’s eyes locked onto Donatella, a cold, knowing smile spreading across her face.
“Asset?” Donatella said, her hand dropping back toward her titanium knife.
“Donatella, please,” Fiona said, stepping forward, waving her guards to lower their weapons. “Did you really think your father’s ledger was a secret? Antonio Rizzo didn't just write that code for himself. He wrote it under my instruction ten years ago. I was the one who discovered Marco Moretti was planning to liquidate the legacy families.”
Donatella’s brain raced, the puzzle pieces violently rearranging themselves in her mind. “If you knew... then why did you let Cosimo kill him?”
Fiona looked at Cosimo, then back at Donatella. “Because ten years ago, Cosimo was too reckless. He needed to believe he was protecting the family by eliminating a 'traitor.' If he had known the truth—that Antonio was helping me build a shadow network to overthrow the Morettis from the inside—Cosimo would have started a war before we were ready. I needed Antonio dead to validate the lie to Marco Moretti. It was a necessary sacrifice.”
The room went completely dead silent.
Cosimo stared at his sister, his face transforming into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. The wound on his side began to bleed through the fresh cotton stitches as his chest heaved. “You... you ordered the hit? You let me execute an innocent man to protect your corporate timeline?”
“I protected our family, Cosimo!” Fiona snapped, her professional veneer cracking, revealing the cold monster beneath. “And now, thanks to Miss Rizzo cracking the cipher, we have the Greenwich accounts. Silvio has already been apprehended by my men. The Moretti empire is ours. The Bellini corporate board has voted. Cosimo, you are steping down due to 'medical complications.' I am taking the seat.”
Fiona turned to her guards. “Secure the ledger. And eliminate the seamstress. She’s too sloppy for the new corporate structure.”
The guards raised their weapons.
But they didn't look at Donatella. They looked at Cosimo.
Despite his horrific injuries, Cosimo stood up from the table. He didn't look like a wounded king anymore. He looked like an apex predator pushed past the brink of madness. He stepped in front of Donatella, shielding her full, curving figure completely with his massive frame.
“The board doesn't rule this city, Fiona,” Cosimo growled, his voice vibrating the glass windows of the cabin. “I do. And if any man in this room raises a weapon against Donatella Rizzo, I will personally tear his spine out through his throat.”
The guards hesitated. They knew Fiona held the money, but Cosimo held their loyalty. He was the man who bled with them in the trenches.
Donatella didn't wait for the standoff to resolve. She slipped from behind Cosimo, her movement so fast, so fluid, it bypassed the guards completely. Before Fiona could even scream, Donatella was behind her, the cold edge of her titanium blade pressed deep against Fiona’s carotid artery.
“You talk about corporate structure, Fiona,” Donatella whispered into her ear, her voice a chillingly calm purr that sent shivers down the spine of every soldier in the room. “But you forgot the most basic rule of tailoring.”
Fiona went completely rigid, her eyes wide with terror as the cold metal bit into her skin. “What... what rule?”
“You never mess with a woman who knows exactly how to rip the seams apart,” Donatella whispered.
May you like
Donatella looked over Fiona’s shoulder, her eyes locking onto Cosimo’s wild, dark gaze. A silent agreement passed between them—a new contract, written not in corporate ink, but in absolute, unconditional fire.
“Tell your men to drop their weapons, Fiona,” Donatella ordered, pressing the blade a millimeter deeper, drawing a single drop of perfect, ruby red blood. “Or the Bellini empire is going to need a new CEO before sunrise.”
