Four Orphan Girls Raised To Be The Mafia Heir’s Wife. And I Only Wanted His Empire. Chapter 12
The Beginning
Six months later.
The Kain operation is mine. Not just the company. The network. The territory. The loyalty of men who’ve been in this family longer than I’ve been alive.
I earned it deal by deal, month by month, by being smarter and steadier than the prince they used to follow.
The celebration dinner is at the main estate. Every family head in the city is there. My people. My guests. My house.
I’m halfway through my opening toast when the doors blow open.
Camille.
No. Not Camille. Not the polished, calculated woman I made a deal with. This is something else. Someone broken open.
Her hair is tangled. Her clothes are wrong. There’s something in her hand. A knife. Short blade. Kitchen steel.
She rushes straight at me, screaming.
“You ruined everything! You took everything from me! I’ll kill you!”
After she cut ties with Alistair, her family should have been fine. I gave her the tools to secure her position.
But it turns out blood runs thicker than strategy. The Ashford elders blamed her for the broken alliance. Said she brought shame on the family name. Stripped her of everything. Disowned her.
She lost it all. And she blames me.
The room scatters. Chairs overturn. Men reach for weapons.
Two of my men are already moving from the sides of the room. But Piper is faster.
But before anyone moves, a hand catches Camille’s wrist mid-swing.
Piper.
She’s standing in front of me. Calm. Steady. Dressed in a sharp black blazer, her hair pulled back, nothing soft about her anymore.
She twists Camille’s arm. The knife hits the floor with a clatter.
“It’s been a while, Camille.”
Piper didn’t break after they sent her away. I made sure of that. Monthly transfers to a private account. Enough to start over.
She opened her own gallery. Built a name in the art world. Found Daniel again. They rebuilt what was taken from them, piece by piece.
She’s here tonight because I asked her to be. Because she’s family. The real kind.
Piper holds Camille at arm’s length and looks at her the way you look at something that used to scare you and doesn’t anymore.
My security takes Camille. She’s still screaming as they drag her out. It echoes through the marble hallway and fades to nothing.
The room settles. Conversations resume. Glasses refill.
It’s over.
Two weeks later, Edward leaves the country for good.
He signs everything over to me. Every territory. Every contact. Every piece of the empire he built over forty years.
“I found Eleanor,” he says, standing at my door with a single suitcase. “She’s running a firm in London. Doing better than I ever did.”
He almost smiles.
“I’m going to tell her I’m sorry. Even if she slams the door in my face. Some debts don’t go away just because you ignore them long enough.”
He looks at me one last time.
“You’re not her replacement, Iris. You stopped being that a long time ago. You’re yourself. That’s enough.”
He walks out. Doesn’t look back.
…
I visit Victoria one final time.
She’s in a care facility outside the city. A nice one. I’m paying for it. Not out of kindness. Out of something colder than that.
She’s sitting by the window when I walk in. Thin. Gray. Hollow. When she sees me, hatred flashes across her face like lightning.
“You ungrateful bitch. We raised you. Fed you. Gave you everything. And you destroyed us.”
I pull up a chair. Sit across from her. The same way I sat across from her son before he went over that railing.
“Do you remember my visa, Victoria?”
Her mouth snaps shut.
“The night you took my passport. The night you told me I’d never leave. You thought you were locking me in.”
I lean forward.
“You were. But you locked yourself in with me.”
I stand up.
“Your husband left you for the woman he actually loved. The empire you spent your whole life guarding belongs to me now. And you’re sitting here, alone, taking care of your paralyzed son.”
Her hands shake. Her mouth opens and closes. No sound comes out.
“Enjoy your retirement, Victoria.”
I walk out into the sunlight.
Piper hands me my sunglasses. Harper opens the door, one hand on her earpiece, confirming the route with our security team. This is our normal now.
“Where to first?” Harper asks.
“We pick up Maisie. She’s the best rehabilitation therapist in the state now. We need her.”
I put on my sunglasses and slide into the back seat.
Four orphan girls, raised to be one man’s bride.
Three of them were almost destroyed by it.
But we survived. All of us. And now we answer to no one.
My life starts today.