And even if there had been money left, it wouldn't have mattered. Emilio had already decreed: one copper coin per person, per month.

Enough to kill any illusion that work here would ever pay.

The household guards didn't truly try to stop the crowd.

After all, with no wages of their own, they could barely feed themselves.

Emilio's voice cracked with fury:

"Is money all you people care about?!"

Someone pointed at the gold Patek Philippe on his wrist:

"That watch alone could cover every last one of our back wages! What right do you have to lecture us?!"

"Pay us! Yeah! Pay us what we're owed!"

The crowd surged forward. Emilio's face went white.

"These ungrateful wretches! That bastard Angelo must have spoiled them rotten!"

"Rush him! Strip the clothes off his back and sell them for what we're owed!"

"Go!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

Emilio staggered as hands grabbed at him from every direction, barely keeping his footing.

"Orders from the Don!"

A column of Castellano soldiers marched through the compound gates, hauling chest after chest of gifts from the main estate.

It turned out that Don Vittorio had visited Rosalia's compound recently and taken a great liking to Emilio's renovations.

These were his rewards.

Emilio sank to his knees, trembling:

"I humbly thank the Don for this generous tribute!"

The workers who had been seconds from rioting dropped to their knees as well, faces drained of color.

None of them had expected this.

The Don himself was backing Emilio.

Emilio reached into one of the chests and pulled out a thick roll of hundreds at random.

He tossed it at their feet:

"Take it. That's enough to cover several months of your wages.

"And if you don't get back to work and end up disrupting the compound's operations, don't be surprised when you end up in the ground!"

They had their money.

And the Don had made his position clear.

Everyone scrambled to bow their thanks and scattered.

Emilio surveyed the chests of gifts filling the courtyard.

A cold smile spread across his face:

"Just as I thought. My approach was right all along.

"If that bastard Angelo hadn't thrown so much money at these ungrateful wretches before, they'd never have developed such an insatiable greed."

His handmaid kneaded his shoulders. "The Don himself admires your integrity, signore.

"The Ferraro family has always been a house of consiglieri. That Angelo is a disgrace to the family name!"

Emilio adjusted his glasses with two fingers, the gesture slow, almost professorial:

"Starting today, one copper coin per month becomes one copper coin every two months."

The handmaid froze.

Emilio's voice was ice. "Angelo spoiled these workers. I'll train it out of them."

It didn't take long. Within weeks, even more workers walked off the job.

Emilio, furious, dragged several of them before the Castellano family's enforcer captain.

He charged them with willful negligence, inciting unrest, and disrupting the family's business.

But even with men thrown in lockup, the rest still refused to lift a finger.

My side of things was a different story entirely.

Business grew by the day, profits climbing steadily, and I paid the highest wages in all of Kingsport.

The people working for me were terrified of not doing enough.

Emilio seemed to think he'd found the root of the problem.

I was directing my crew to hang the sign above our new front on Mulberry Street when Emilio's men shoved their way forward.

One of them swung and knocked the signboard clean off its hooks.

It hit the ground and split in two.

The leader glanced at the gold bracelet on my temp worker's wrist and sneered:

"So it's true. You're the one corrupting people's hearts with money."

I stared at the shattered signboard. My voice was flat:

"What exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Take your people and get lost! Stop spreading this filth! It's because of money-poisoned vermin like you that everyone's heads are full of nothing but profit!

"You call yourself a Ferraro? Our family is a house of consiglieri! And you drag our name through the mud like this!"

I said nothing.

I just looked past him at the men he'd brought along.

My temp workers could afford gold bracelets.

His men's suits hung off them like they hadn't eaten a full meal in weeks.

His men still had patches sewn onto their trousers.

I clapped my hands together.

"New shop opening! Five cooks, ten clerks, one manager needed! Three silver a month, plus commission! Sign on and get equity shares!"

The men standing behind Emilio visibly froze.

From the moment they'd arrived, their eyes had been drifting over to my people. Every few seconds, a flash of envy crossed their faces.

"Me!"

Someone was the first to throw down his club.

"Me too! Me too!"

"You—!"

One by one, the men around Emilio bolted toward me.

I waved them off with a laugh. "Too many, too many."

"I'm strong! Pick me!"

"I'll work part-time! I don't need the shares!"

Emilio's teeth ground together.

"You worthless dogs! Ungrateful scum!"

I looked up.

"Fine. I'll take all of you. Now, escort the prince consort back to his compound nice and safe. And while you're there, tell your brothers at the house that I'm hiring."

"Yes, sir!"

Emilio was dragged toward the car by his own men. He stared back at me, seething.

"You bastards! How dare you betray me! I'm the one who hired you! Let go of me!"

"Stop!"

A hand shot out, grabbed him, and pulled him behind her.

Before I could even register what was happening.

A slap cracked across my face.

Elena stared at me.

"You lowlife. How dare you."

I looked at her in disbelief.

The warmth and affection that once filled Elena's eyes when she looked at me were gone. Replaced by nothing but cold indifference.

She turned and bowed her head to Emilio.

"He was never properly disciplined. Offending you like this is unforgivable."

Emilio steadied her by the arm. He cast me a single frigid glance.

Elena spoke again.

"Everything Angelo just offered is void. All of you still work under Mr. Ferraro Sr. Anyone who tried to sign on with Angelo just now—"

She paused. The street went quiet. Even the wind off the harbor seemed to hold its breath.

"Stay behind. Thirty lashes each."

My eyes went wide.

"Elena!"

Even Emilio clearly hadn't expected it. After a beat of surprise, he turned to me with that trademark sneer of contempt.

"Then I thank the Don's daughter for her kindness."

Emilio climbed into the car and left.

The men were forced to the ground. Elena's own enforcers administered the lashes. Not a shred of mercy. Within minutes, the entire street echoed with screams.

"Please, have mercy! We'll never work for the prince consort again!"

"Never in this lifetime! Please, mercy!"

"Elena!"

I lunged forward, half out of my mind with fury.

A maidservant caught my arm and held me back.

"Please don't make things worse for yourself. Surely you know. The Don's daughter has been in love with your brother since they were children."

The air left my lungs.

I remembered asking her once whether she truly had feelings for me. That smile she gave. Saying nothing.

In that moment.

I understood.

I understood everything.

Elena's gaze settled on me. The noise of the beating behind her, the groaning men, the slap of leather on skin, none of it touched her face. She looked at me the way a capo looks at a name about to be struck from the books.

"You could have gone after anyone. But not him."

Her voice was ice.

"As of today, you and I are no longer husband and wife."

Because I'd poached her beloved's people, she'd sentenced our marriage to death.

I laughed. Bitter and hollow.

"Good. I didn't want to be your consort anyway."

In the span of half a year.

I'd received two divorce decrees.

Everything I'd earned through my own business. By the old arrangement between our families, it all belonged to the Castellano household. Elena tossed me half without a second thought. She was just like my brother. She looked down on every cent I'd made.

I secured a license for a trade route along the southern waterfront and started an operation on the river.

After that public beating in broad daylight, almost no one in Kingsport dared work for me anymore.

I had no choice but to hire workers from out of town.

Emilio, on the other hand, had it easy. With a Castellano daughter backing him up, he had leverage I didn't. Workers were conscripted and forced to labor under his command. But at two copper coins a month, people started fleeing before long. Some disguised themselves as out-of-towners and came to work on my shipment crews instead.

With no one left at the compound, the operations running under Elena Castellano's name had no product to move. Emilio couldn't even put food on the table.

That was the day he showed up with soldiers. All of them under Elena's authority.

He stared at my massive cargo convoy, a sneer curling his lips.

"Seize it."

I stepped in front of him.

"Brother, how can you be so unreasonable?"

He scoffed.

"If you hadn't been out here throwing money around and disrupting the market, the Don's daughter's operations would never have failed! Buying loyalty with coin. You've dragged the Ferraro name through the mud! The only way to stop you from lining your own pockets is to hand all this cargo over to me."

He was about to give the order again. I blocked his path.

"Brother, this is my cargo. My operation. You ran yours into the ground, so now you come to steal mine?"

"Steal?" He sneered. "I'm simply purifying your soul, little brother. Do it."

"No!"

I scrambled to stop them.

Elena's voice cut through the air.

"Hold him down."

My men and I were slammed to the ground at the same time. Every last unit of product I'd hauled all the way from the Southern Docks was seized under Emilio's name.

He looked at the emptied convoy and smiled coldly.

"Brother, why must you insist on working against me?"

I said nothing.

"Men, torch the trucks. Make sure Angelo Ferraro never moves product again."

"Yes, sir!"

"I dare you."

I smiled. "Open the seal."

One of my crew yanked the tarp off the lead vehicle's cargo frame.

Four words blazed under the floodlights: COMMISSION-PROTECTED SHIPMENT.

I rose to my feet. Looked straight at Emilio's bloodless face.

"What nerve you have, brother. Stealing from the Don himself."