The Mafia Princess’s Revenge Chapter 09
I stared at that last line until my eyes burned.
Giulio was still talking: “Elisa, are you even listening to me?”
I slowly pressed the screen dark. Then raised my head.
And for the first time—smiled at them of my own accord.
“Alright.”
All four men froze.
I looked at Giulio. “I’ll go back to the Greco estate with you.”
Marta’s smile locked in place—then died.
I lowered my gaze to the Ricci ring in my palm. Seven days.
I was going to watch with my own eyes—once every last truth was torn wide open—whether they’d still choose Marta.
After returning to the Greco estate, I didn’t mention leaving again.
Everyone seemed relieved by how “obedient” I’d become.
Everyone except Marta.
That night, she pushed open my bedroom door.
I was getting ready for bed. The moment I saw the man standing behind her, my body locked up.
I knew him—the manager of the entertainment complex in Mexico.
For three years, every time I tried to escape, he was the one who dragged me back personally.
He’d broken my fingers. Locked me in a windowless basement. Once, when I had a fever of 104, he’d stood over me and laughed: “Mr. Vitale says as long as you don’t die, anything goes.”
My body reacted faster than my brain. I scrambled to the corner of the bed, hands over my head.
Marta smiled. “So you do remember him.”
She looked down at me.
“Three years ago, all Adriano did was have you sent to Mexico. I’m the one who told the people there that you’d been completely abandoned by all four families. And I’m the one who told them—”
She let out a soft laugh. “—they could do whatever they wanted with you.”
I clutched the sheets. “Why would you do this to me?”
“Why?” Marta looked like she’d heard the most ridiculous question in the world. “Because you sat in a seat that was mine for eighteen years. Greco money. Vitale protection. Fiore resources. Nicola’s affection. Why should any of that have been yours?”
She leaned down and whispered in my ear:
“The best part is—I never had to lift a finger. All I had to do was cry. Say three little words: Elisa did it. And they’d punish you for me.”
My fingertips went cold, inch by inch. Marta’s smile only grew.
“You’ve tried so many times already, haven’t you?”
“You said I poisoned myself—nobody believed you.”
“You said the kidnapping had nothing to do with you—still nobody believed you.”
“Even when you begged for help from Mexico—” She paused. “—they just assumed you were lying again, didn’t they?”
I looked at her. “Are you finished?”
The smile froze on Marta’s face. Her expression darkened instantly. She raised a hand—and the Mexican man started toward me. The click of his dress shoes on the floor grew louder with every step. My body began to tremble beyond my control. I snarled through clenched teeth:
“Don’t touch me!”
The man smirked.
“Seems like three years still wasn’t enough to teach you manners.”
His hand reached for me—
The bedroom door exploded inward.
BANG!
Everyone spun around.
Adriano stood in the doorway.
Behind him—Giulio, Elio, and Nicola.
Not one of them looked right.
Adriano held a stack of documents. On top—a bank statement.
He stared at Marta, unblinking.
“Keep talking.”
Every drop of color drained from Marta’s face. “Papa Adriano…”
“I said keep talking.” Adriano walked into the room and slammed the documents down in front of her.
Pages scattered across the floor. “The Mexico complex received seventeen anonymous wire transfers over the past three years. Every single account traced back to the Capello family.”
Adriano’s gaze shifted to the man standing beside my bed.
“As for you—you’ve already told us everything.”
The man went white.
Marta whipped around.
“You betrayed me?”
“He didn’t betray you.”
Giulio’s voice could have frozen blood.
“From the moment you walked into this room, every word has been recorded.”
Marta went completely still.
—