The Crimson Throne

en grave, her black veil fluttering in the breeze. The scent of fresh earth m

ther's

en brutal, efficient, and absolute-until someone decided it was time for him to die. The bullet that ended his

ing to see if she would crumble

woul

give them the

ose in her hand. It wasn't a symbol o

s barely above a whisper, but Luca Moretti-her

ll pay i

ation, their expressions carefully masked, but Adriana could sense their uncertainty. The other mafia families h

her slowly, his tailored black suit immaculate, his silver hair neatly com

ctat

ith false sympathy. "Your father was a great m

i

in. "Legends don'

in control. "True. But power is a fickle thing, cara. It requir

lenge.

, murmuring amongst themselves. She could see the

she

aze without blinking

n, a slow, a

her shoulder like one would a ch

ked away, but her blood boiled. He

d be thei

was quiet. Luca sat beside her in t

ave to do th

od friend, now her father's mo

d oath. Step i

laugh. "And do what in

ould leave. Start over.

it. A life far away from this madness.

That was a fantasy she

gainst the seat,

escape who yo

hoed in her mind, a m

as he cleaned the blood off his hands. She had seen the fear

er had g

this life. Power isn

believe him then. But

her, but she swallowed it dow

er's murderer was

gates opening to let them in. As soon as th

ing was over. Now,

rt of his empire. The heavy wooden desk. The bookshelves lined wit

esitated. Then, she took

s head. "You really are

s pen-the same pen he use

ng with the c

"They won't al

'll mak

pulling out a burner phone. T

di

answered. "

ca, her eyes burnin

s ti

shifted-half respe

sn't just taking h

taking h

. She could feel the weight of the room-the ghosts of past decisions, past ruler

for a moment, draw

he moment ever

was Enzo Ricci, one of the senior capos, his eyes wary as h

ecision," he said.

his gaze ste

, then nodded. "Then let's se

pledging l

t rejecting

s a s

s began arriving, Adria

or the thron