My Husband Betrayed Me — I Took His Empire Chapter 08

My Husband Betrayed Me — I Took His Empire Chapter 08

Five years later.

Westside Docks had completed its expansion.

Warehouse 7 had been transformed into a new container management center.

The North Highway checkpoint had been upgraded with a new system.

The three main routes within Valentino Territory had been integrated into one unified

management process.

During a regular meeting of The Commission, someone called me “Donna” for the first time./

The female Don.

I didn’t correct them.

I didn’t deliberately emphasize the title either.

I simply continued discussing the schedule for the next quarter.

That same year, I went on a business trip to a coastal city in the south.

After the meeting ended, my car was taking me from the airport back to the hotel.

We passed through an older part of the city.

Low, worn-down houses lined both sides of the street.

My car stopped at a red light.

Across the street stood a man.

He wore a faded plaid shirt and carried two grocery bags,

He was standing outside a small grocery store, talking to the owner.

His hair had turned much whiter.

His back was more bent.

Compared to the photograph from five years ago, he looked another decade older.

He turned his head and glanced at the traffic at the intersection.

My car passed in front of him.

The dark tinted window separated us.

He didn’t see me.

His eyes moved past the vehicle, then lowered again to the grocery bags in his hands.

The phone of the person sitting beside me rang.

Vivian Ferraro answered, spoke for a moment, then hung up.

“DeLuca asked whether we need a car sent to pick us up tonight.”

“No.”

The car continued forward.

In the rearview mirror, the figure in the gray shirt grew smaller and smaller.

Then he turned into an alley and disappeared.

Later, someone asked me what I had done with the documents Luca Russo left behind.

I said some were kept.

The ones that were no longer useful remained in the left drawer of my desk, beside a photograph.

Someone else asked about Fiona O’Malley’s whereabouts.

I told them she and the child were living quietly in a small town in the south.

Vivian Ferraro had someone check on them once a year.

The child was healthy.

Fiona had built a quiet life for herself.

When people asked about what happened that night at the Feast of the Seven Fishes, I only smiled

and said nothing.

Everyone who had been there remembered.

There was no need for me to tell the story again.

I only needed to sit in that chair.

The chair that showed everyone the owner had changed.

The ring was still on my finger.

The serpent wrapped around the blade.

I had worn it for five years without taking it off once.

My phone vibrated.

A message from Vivian appeared.

[The Commission approved next quarter’s schedule. Waiting for your signature.]

I looked at the message.

Then I raised my eyes toward the window.

The city skyline lit up under the evening glow.

Among those lights were several belonging to Valentino’s casinos and warehouses.

And one belonged to the study on the second floor of Main House.

I had the old bulb replaced.

The new one was brighter than before.

The car continued moving forward.

And this time, it never stopped.