The Mafia’s Forgotten Daughter. The Desert King’s Jewel Chapter 07

The Mafia’s Forgotten Daughter. The Desert King’s Jewel Chapter 07

“Dad, you finally made it.”

Farid Al-Nassar’s eyes found me the moment he walked in.

The man who’d killed without blinking nearly broke down at the sight of me, battered and filthy.

“My poor child!” He turned to the crowd and roared, “So you’re the ones who dared to touch my daughter?”

His sharp gaze shot to Victor first.

Victor flinched on instinct—but his pride still held him stiff.

“I’ve run the Vescari family for decades. You can’t bring it down with one word!”

Dad curled his lip. “Watch me. If the Vescari family isn’t in ruins by dawn, I’ll change my name.”

One phone call. That was all it took.

He took my hand gently and led me away.

“Monica, I’m sorry! Please forgive me!”

Rafael’s voice chased after me.

I didn’t look back. I just held Zayn’s hand tighter.

I only had one brother now. Zayn Al-Nassar.

That night, Dad brought in ten private physicians to check every inch of me.

Only after the last one confirmed I had nothing but bruises did he finally relax.

The Vescari headquarters stayed lit all night.

Phones rang nonstop. Family members scattered like startled prey.

The next morning, at breakfast—

My phone buzzed.

Victor’s voice came through, broken and desperate. “Monica… please ask Mr. Al-Nassar to stop. The Vescari family can’t hold on much longer.”

I said nothing.

He begged. “Monica, I’ll get on my knees. Just call it off. Everything I have is yours. You’re my only heir—I swear it.”

I laughed out loud.

“I’m the Oil King’s daughter now. Why would I want your leftovers?”

I hung up.

…

By noon, every mafia outlet in New York was running the same headline: The top mafia empire, the Vescari family, had declared bankruptcy overnight.

Billions in debt. Every asset seized.

Photos showed Victor and Rafael sitting outside their headquarters, surrounded by creditors and employees screaming for their pay.

Victor’s back was bent, like he’d aged twenty years in one night.

I turned off my phone. Not a single ripple in my heart. They’d brought it all on themselves.

The night before I flew out of New York—

A shadow lunged out of the garage and grabbed me.

I was about to scream when his hand clamped over my mouth.

“Monica—it’s me. Rafael.”

“What do you want? If you touch me, my Dad—”

He slammed his fist against the wall and roared, “I’m your real brother! Your real family!”

I stared at him.

“Don’t go. Please. Stay. Can’t we be a family again?”

“Before Mom died… she told me to protect my little sister. And I got it wrong…”

Tears fell from his eyes. This time, they were real.

“I was so blind. You’re my real blood—and I helped those monsters…”

He couldn’t seem to finish. He let me go and ran off without looking back.

The airport. The private jet was ready.

My phone buzzed.

[Monica, forgive your brother. I’ll make sure everyone who hurt you pays.]

My heart stopped for a beat.

Then a video loaded.

In it, Rafael stabbed Camille over and over.

She screamed, struggled, clawed—but he just kept repeating, “You deserve to die!”

When she stopped moving, he slumped to the ground. A relieved smile spread across his face. He sat there quietly, waiting for the enforcers to take him away.

I watched the whole thing.

Then I turned my phone off calmly.

The plane landed.

I took a deep breath of the clean, familiar air.

From now on, this was my only home.

The past? Dead and buried.