Wed To The Mafia, Wedded To Revenge Chapter 06

Wed To The Mafia, Wedded To Revenge Chapter 06

News spread the next day that the Volkov Group had won the port reconstruction bid. I breathed out slowly.

I knew Cassian had long planned to take down Damian. His scheme was meticulous and flawless.

But I could not wait any longer.

Ten years had passed since I turned seventeen. I had waited far too patiently already.

The thought that Matteo’s organs now lived inside Damian made my blood boil. I wanted him to suffer the same fate he had inflicted on Matteo.

Three days after Volkov secured the contract, workers uncovered toxic waste, the remains of missing laborers, and unregistered medical transport crates in the warehouse basement.

The media initially framed it as a vicious business scandal.

Damian held a press conference quickly. Dressed in a charcoal suit, he maintained his arrogant composure.

“The Volkov family will fully cooperate with all investigations.”

“This is nothing more than malicious sabotage from competitors.”

“We reserve the right to pursue legal action.”

I watched his speech from my office chair and let out a quiet laugh.

Before the press conference ended, more scandals exploded across every news outlet. Volkov executives were accused of embezzlement, bribing officials, and running illegal medical transport operations.

The first person to turn against Damian was his own uncle, a senior member of the Volkov family who had endured his leadership for years.

I never met the man face to face. I simply sent him a single photograph.

The picture showed Damian recovering in his hospital room after his transplant surgery. A short note was written on the back.

If Damian falls, the Volkov family will need a new leader.

The message was clear to him at once.

Damian’s greatest mistake was assuming I existed only in Cassian’s shadow.

Five days later, Marcus Kane came to my office in person. I slid a black file folder across my desk toward him.

Inside were audio recordings from the dying driver, overseas bank accounts linked to Volkov payments, and medical transfer records from the private clinic all those years ago.

Marcus’s fingers stiffened the second he opened the folder.

“Seraphina, do you understand what will happen once I submit this evidence?”

“I do,” I replied calmly.

The entire underground world of New York would be reshuffled. Every rival faction would tear pieces from the crumbling Volkov empire.

Marcus closed the folder slowly.

“You could have handed this over much sooner.”

I smiled faintly.

“And let all the evidence disappear into some archive, just like it did ten years ago?”

He said nothing in reply.

I held no hatred for Marcus Kane. I understood his duty as a police officer, bound by rules and legal procedure.

But I was Matteo’s sister. I wanted justice, raw and unyielding.

The Volkov family crumbled from within in the weeks that followed. Betrayals ran rampant as members scrambled to steal assets and flee.

One month later, Damian was convicted of premeditated murder, illegal organ trafficking, and obstruction of justice.

Police officers escorted him out of his lavish mansion while dozens of cameras flashed around him. Panic finally crossed his face for the first time.

I sat in my car and watched his downpour through the pouring rain.

Our eyes locked. He recognized me instantly, and terror twisted his features.

I laughed softly, rolled down the window, and drove away to a private apartment I owned.

This was the first place I had ever bought for myself, a hiding spot for my deepest secrets.

I came here whenever I feared I would start to forget Matteo’s face.

I had only painted landscapes before I turned seventeen. Mrs. Bianchi had grieved my choice to abandon art, but there was no going back.

I could no longer capture the beauty of nature.

Consumed by longing, I picked up a paintbrush and began to draw. I recreated the familiar features that haunted my thoughts, features that bore a striking resemblance to Cassian’s—but they belonged to Matteo.

Every canvas inside this apartment held his portrait.

I finished one final full painting of him that day. I sat on the floor with my knees drawn up and raised a glass toward the artwork.

“Matteo, I’ve finally avenged you.”