Drake came, just like I knew he would. The moment the door was kicked open, the flames in the fireplace flickered.

He strode straight toward me in a few quick steps, the dark barrel of his gun pressing hard against my forehead.

“Violet.” He bit down on my name, like a beast trapped in a cage. “You touch her child, and I’ll make sure you’re buried with her.”

I sat back in the leather chair by the fireplace. I didn’t even stand. Instead, I casually nudged a document forward with my fingertips, sliding the port transfer order to the center of the table.

“Don’t rush into madness.” I looked up at him, my tone as calm as if we were discussing the weather. “I’ve frozen three warehouses under your name, two smuggling routes, and seven offshore accounts fifteen minutes ago.”

The rage on Drake’s face froze instantly, and the color drained from it. His hand, still gripping the gun, began to tremble.

I smiled faintly. My voice was soft, but every word cut deep.

“Drake, you seem to have forgotten something. The reason for your accomplishments today isn’t because you know how to pull a trigger. It’s because I allowed you to live.”

“You investigated me?” He slammed the gun onto the table. His voice dropped low. He was holding back the fury burning in his chest.

“I’m reclaiming what’s mine.” I leaned back into the chair, watching his barely contained anger with quiet amusement. “The Manhattan port district? I built it for you. Those shipping routes you controlled? I laid them out for you. I even picked you up off the street, giving you a life. And now I want it back. Do you have a problem with that?”

He stared at the transfer order for a long moment before finally forcing out a sentence, disbelief written all over his face.

“It’s just a woman. Is it really worth taking it this far?”

“Just a woman?” I repeated his words, slowly turning the empty glass in my hand. “Then why did you let her wear my mother’s necklace? Why did you let her sit in the place that was supposed to be mine? Why did you let her humiliate me in front of the entire New York mafia?”

He fell silent.

I knew him better than anyone. This was never about Lina. Lina and that child she failed to keep were nothing more than a tool to him. He just wanted to see if I, who had spent ten years honing him, my sharpest blade, would crack on my own.

Over the years, he’d built his own power—men, money, connections, and, along with it, a hunger he could no longer suppress. He was no longer satisfied with being the sharpest blade in my hand. He wanted to be the one holding it.

“Drake.” My voice stayed calm, but there was no room for argument. “Starting today, you’re not allowed to come back to our villa.”

A flicker of shock crossed his eyes. “You’re turning on me?”

“I’m not turning on you.” I met his gaze and said, “I’m settling the score.”

I lifted a hand. My right-hand man stepped in immediately, carrying a thick stack of documents and dropping them in front of him. Every dollar he’d siphoned from the family under the name of the port district, every member he’d secretly pulled to his side, and every deal he’d made with outside forces were all there.

His expression darkened with every page. By the time he reached the last one, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He flipped the entire stack off the table, papers scattering across the floor.

“Violet, don’t forget, I didn’t get where I am today because of you alone!”

“Of course.” I looked at him coldly. “There was also the opportunity I gave you, the identity I gave you, and the name I gave you. Without me, you’d still be a stray dog rotting beside a dumpster in Brooklyn.”

The veins at his temples bulged, as if he might lunge at me any second and strangle me. However, in the end, he braced himself against the table, leaning forward as he questioned me through clenched teeth.

“What exactly do you want?”

“Simple.” I met his eyes, without the slightest emotion. “I want you out of my bed, out of my books, and out of whatever shred of feelings I have left for you.”

Drake stared at me for a long time. Then, suddenly, he laughed a low, cold, and unfamiliar laugh.

“Fine, Violet. Don’t regret this. I’ll make sure you pay for this tenfold.” He slammed the door on his way out, leaving his threat behind.

I looked at the closed door, then lifted my glass and took a slow sip.

Regret? The one thing I regretted was never turning on him. I should have left him to die in that alley ten years ago instead of bringing him back with me.

Drake’s retaliation came faster and far more vicious than I expected. In just three days, all three of our West Coast arms routes were cut off. Two senior figures who had always remained neutral suddenly changed their stance, openly questioning my authority as the Godfather's acting representative. Even the two most stable cash flows in the port district ran into trouble on the same day.

I sat in my office and listened to the full report. When it was over, I only asked one question.

“What about the cemetery?”

My right-hand man lowered his head. “The olive grove… It’s been leveled.”

The pen in my hand snapped in half. That cemetery sat on the north shore of Long Island. It held the grave of my first child with Drake, Angelo.

By the time I arrived, the site had been sealed off. Several of the oldest trees lay toppled across the dirt, their roots ripped out of the ground. The row of trees that used to stand thickest in front of Angelo’s grave was now nothing but broken stumps.

Lina stood not far away, holding a set of estate blueprints, looking pleased with herself.

“The lighting here is perfect.” She turned back to smile at Drake. “When the new house is built, I want the nursery on the second floor. It’ll have a view of the sea.”

I walked over. I didn’t even glance at Drake. I simply raised my hand and fired a shot straight through the blueprint, tearing the paper apart instantly.

The workers froze in shock. Lina screamed and stumbled into Drake’s arms.

He stepped in front of her, his expression dark. “Violet, have you lost your mind?”

My second shot hit the front wheel of a bulldozer. The blast echoed so loudly that no one dared move.

“Get out,” I said, my gaze sweeping across the site. “Anyone who's still here in three minutes… will get buried here.”

No one thought I was bluffing, but Drake didn’t move. He stood at the edge of the graveyard, meeting my eyes across the scattered debris, his voice unnaturally cold.

“He’s dead. What’s the point of keeping the trees?”

Finding it ironic, I asked, “Then what were you doing back then, kneeling in front of his grave and planting them?”

He paused for a moment, but when he spoke again, his gaze had only hardened.

“Back then, I thought I’d spend my life guarding the past,” he said. “But later, I realized you can’t live forever tied to a dead child and a dead relationship.”

The words cut into my chest like a blade. My grip tightened around the gun, my knuckles turning white.

Lina suddenly leaned out from behind him, her voice sickly sweet. “Consigliere, if you’re so attached to this place, you’re welcome to visit anytime. When Drake and I have another child, they’ll call you–”

Before she could finish her sentence, I slapped her hard across the face. The force sent her crashing into the dirt, one side of her face swelling almost instantly. Silence fell over the entire site.

Drake’s expression changed sharply. He rushed forward and grabbed my wrist.

“Violet!”

“Let go.” I stared straight at him as I said, “If you don’t, my next shot goes into her stomach.”

He didn’t release me. If anything, there was a trace of cold satisfaction in his eyes.

“So you finally lost your composure,” he said quietly. “I thought you didn’t care about anything at all.”

I looked at him and suddenly stopped struggling.

“Drake.” One by one, I pried his fingers off my wrist and said, “You’re going to regret leveling this grove.”

Then, I personally moved Angelo’s headstone and ashes. And when I left, I didn’t look back, because I knew from this moment on, there was nothing left between us but winning and losing.

Three months later, a black market auction was held in an old opera house in Queens. It was one of the underworld’s favorite places to do business in New York. On the surface, they auctioned off jewelry and antiques. Behind the scenes, what really changed hands were shipping routes, territory, and favors.

I hadn’t planned on going. That was, until one of my men placed the auction catalog on my desk, and on the last page, I saw the blue diamond brooch. It was something my mother used to wear when she was young. It was originally part of a set—the same set as the necklace now hanging around Lina’s neck.

Since Drake had taken the necklace to please his new woman, I wasn’t about to lose this brooch. So, I went.

By the time I entered, Drake was already there. He had Lina with him, seated in the most visible spot in the room. She had changed into an even more expensive dress, as if she couldn’t wait for everyone to see exactly who she stood beside now.

The auction moved into its second half, and finally, the brooch was brought onto the stage. The moment I raised my paddle, Lina tugged lightly on Drake’s sleeve.

“I like this one.”

Drake didn’t even ask the price before he followed immediately. He patted her hand indulgently and raised his paddle again, yet his gaze slid toward me, openly provocative.

“My girl likes it, Violet. Why don’t you let her have it?”

My expression didn’t change. I turned slightly to my right-hand man.

“Keep going.”

The price climbed from a few thousand to nearly a million dollars. By then, the brooch had long lost its original value. It had become nothing more than a tool in the standoff between Drake and me.

“Lock it,” Drake said lazily, pulling Lina closer into his arms.

My aide leaned in, lowering his voice. “Ma’am, where did Drake get that kind of cash flow?”

I smirked. “The final payment for that South American arms deal he reserved.”

Then, I rose gracefully to my feet. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd below, I gave a slight nod, then turned and walked out without hesitation.

“Ma’am, the brooch…” my right-hand man followed, asking in a low voice.

I simply pressed a finger lightly to his lips and said softly, “Remember this. Objects are dead.”

I never wanted the brooch. What I wanted was the gap in Drake’s funds that bidding for it would expose. That same night, I had my finance team and lawyers move at the same time, tracing the temporary funds he had pulled together. Sure enough, they uncovered something far dirtier.

Behind the family’s back, Drake had been using the port’s shipping operations to launder money. Worst of all, that shipping route didn’t just lead to arms; it led to drugs. The Leon family had one iron rule: never touch drugs. It was a rule the Godfather had paid for with half his life, and anyone who broke it died.

I stared at the accounts all night, and suddenly, that little game at the auction felt more than worth it. The next morning, I sent out wedding invitations to every family that had dealings with Drake, not to help him celebrate, but to draw the net around him.