The Mafia Princess Asked for a Beautiful Ashes Box Chapter 03

The Mafia Princess Asked for a Beautiful Ashes Box Chapter 03

The next morning, a phone call dragged me out of a restless sleep.

It was the owner of the memorial shop.

“Ms. Russo, when are you going to pay the rest? It’s only five hundred dollars. You’ve already dragged this out for a month. If I don’t have the money within three days, I’m selling the urn to someone else. And you’re not getting your deposit back.”

I struggled upright, my voice hoarse.

“Please, just give me a little more time. My next paycheck comes in two weeks, and then I can…”

“I’m not waiting another two weeks,” he snapped. “I’ve never met anyone who made this much trouble over an urn. If you couldn’t afford one that expensive, you shouldn’t have ordered it.”

The call ended before I could answer.

My head throbbed. I called the club manager and asked for an advance on my paycheck.

His response was even colder.

“Don’t bother coming in today. You’re fired. And forget about your last paycheck. Mr. Russo gave the order. There’s nothing we can do.”

A loud buzz filled my skull, and panic sent my voice off pitch.

“You can’t withhold my wages. That’s illegal!”

The manager laughed. “Then sue me. Let’s see if there’s a single club left in New York willing to hire you. Mr. Russo said he’d handle whatever consequences came from this. If you insist on making an enemy of him, that’s your problem.”

He hung up.

The pressure in my chest left me unable to breathe. My face went cold, and the taste of rust flooded my mouth.

Without warning, warm liquid spilled from my lips.

I stared at the bright red blood and finally broke down.

After a long while, I wiped it away with a tissue. Then I took out my painkillers and swallowed them dry.

By the time I finished, I had almost no strength left.

Leaning against the side of my bed, I thought about the five years since Dante cast me out.

Every escape route I had ever found had been cut off by my own brother.

Now even the nightclub was gone.

I didn’t know how I would pay for food, much less painkillers or the urn.

All I wanted was a beautiful final home for my ashes.

Was that really too much to ask?

I covered my face and sobbed until late afternoon. When I had recovered enough strength to stand, I made a decision.

I was going home.

I wanted to ask Dante what gave him the right to destroy me like this.

When I returned to the estate where I had grown up, Dante and Mia were having dinner.

He glanced at me without emotion.

“Finally ready to come home?”

“What gave you the right to have my manager fire me?” I asked flatly, refusing to follow his lead. “Hasn’t five years of humiliating me been enough?”

One dark brow lifted. Dante looked utterly unconcerned.

“How were you supposed to learn that home was best if you never suffered out there? Do you have any idea what people say about you now, Nina? I’ve kept the worst of it from reaching your ears, and you can’t even be grateful.”

Mia set down her knife and fork.

“You see, Dante? She doesn’t understand anything you’ve done for her. Just look at her. She’s blaming you.”

“Shut up!”

I lunged across the table and raised my hand to slap her.

Dante caught my wrist before I could touch her.

His expression turned glacial.

“So you’ve learned to hit people now? You really will never understand what you did wrong.”

His fingers tightened. “Do you want me to make it impossible for you to survive anywhere in New York?”

My heart clenched as if a fist had closed around it.

Impossible to survive?

What did he think he had been doing all these years?

He had sabotaged every job I found and crushed every last hope I had.

He had reduced me to less than a vermin, broken in body and spirit and unable to afford even my own urn.

I was done.

I was so tired of his threats.