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