War means war. The Genarros drew back every nickel that had been put in anything the Russos related. I persuaded my family to do this, this borderline self-destruction, to have my revenge on Cicio’s betrayal.

There was one thing about me, is that I have always been my parents' precious princess. The only heiress of the family business means I can do whatever I want, and the only reply I’d ever get is going to be “as you wish”.

But Cicio was a different story. He was a bastard son given birth by a nameless whore, and he wandered among all the twelve orphanages in the city over the first 16 years of his life before getting reconnected to his family.

The power he was granted by the Russos mainly came from his engagement with me.

I could afford whatever carnage of this war. But Cicio couldn’t. There would be serious consequences if he messed up what should’ve been taken care of.

At this point, wasting more time on Jessica Kolt was the last thing I wanted.

At the end of the day, I thought, she wasn’t the only one to blame. I never meant to lay my vengeance upon her.

It was Cicio who broke my heart with his choice: if he loved me enough, he wouldn’t have looked Jessica’s way. The whole affair with Jessica shouldn’t have happened at all.

So my target had been Cicio. But Jessica always had a way to creep into my life.

After dinner this Saturday, my girlfriend Alice asked me to go shopping with her. I said yes since I had an order of a handbag to pick up anyway.

At my handbag place, just when the saleswoman displayed my handbag to me, Jessica showed up unannounced and ridiculously flaunted a credit card at me.

“I want that handbag right now.” The credit card was being berserked like a sword. “I can afford it. Cicio gave me this card, and he told me to buy anything I want.”

The saleswoman shrank. I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you come from a reputed family of the underworld, Principessa Genarro. But I believe Cicio can afford whatever you can afford, too. ”

She didn’t even know the knee-deep crap Cicio was in right now.

Neither did her son, who rolled his eyes at me and started screaming, “We want that bag!”

No one moved. It was my order. They couldn’t touch it without my permission.

“Jessica, why?” I sighed, “Why are you always taking what’s mine?”

“How is it yours?” Jessica looked confused, “It’s just an item put on a shelf for whoever can afford to buy.”

“Then how about Cicio? He was my fiancé.”

Jessica teared up.

“I didn’t take him. You were too incompetent to keep him. He came back to me.”

The confrontation kept on. Her son cried and stomped and threw tantrums. Jessica wouldn’t give in. I loved playing this game. Poor saleswomen couldn’t decide what to do, so they called Cicio.

There were dark circles around Cicio’s eyes. My decision gave him a hard time, I could see that.

Alice greeted Cicio with a sneer, “Here he comes, the man Jessica took from my bestie. Come on, Cicio, tell us, did Jessica steal you from Dani’s bed?”

Cicio didn’t look her way. He stared at me for a few moments, then came close and picked up his son from the floor, where his son kicked and screamed and cried.

The boy smudged all the tears and mucus on him, making his suit dirty. He hated getting dirty, but he made no objection to what the boy did.

“Mom cried because these bad women bullied her.”

To synchronize with her son’s claim, Jessica started sobbing without any tears. She leaned over on Cicio’s shoulder, letting out a few dry heaves, “Please don’t make it harder for Principessa Genarro.”

“Come here, it’s alright.” Cicio caressed Jessica’s hair.

“I never deserve to be here, nor to want the same handbag Principessa Genarro wanted. I’m not worth it anyway.”

Cicio’s eyes were fixed on me, “Did you say anything to her?”

It was too funny for me to say anything, so I stayed silent.

“If you want to hurt somebody, hurt me. Leave my wife and kid out of this. She is the mother of my child. There’s nothing she is not worthy of.”

What a hero. Cicio looked almost like a stranger to me right now.

It took me back to the time when we were still together, when he was fighting for what he called the opportunity of a lifetime. The right to build the new casino meant everything to his family. To secure it, he asked me to accompany him for the night.

I knew exactly why he wanted me there. My family name carried weight in those circles—old connections, old favors. He needed that reputation to soften the room. I went with him anyway.

At the table, Cicio introduced me to the rival bosses and crooked intermediaries, men who smiled too easily and watched too closely. The plan was already in motion. Someone had been poisoned to weaken the opposition, and Cicio asked me to keep refilling glasses, to urge them to drink, to distract them while the deal was being cornered.

Somewhere along the night, I drank what I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t realize it at first, only that the room started spinning, my body going numb, my thoughts slipping out of reach. I was unraveling in front of everyone, humiliated, barely conscious.

When the staff finally realized something was wrong and called an ambulance, Cicio didn’t come with me. The contract was ready to be signed, the bodies needed to be buried, and that mattered more than whether I lived or died.

He stayed at the table. And afterwards, he never even asked if I was okay.

He never said he was sorry.

Had he really ever loved me at all?

“Did you hear what I said?”Cicio raised his voice.

“She wants the handbag, doesn’t she?”I held the bag in the air, “I want the North End of the city.”

North End has always been the territory controlled by the Russo family; it’s their headquarters.

I knew he wouldn’t agree. He was never reckless enough to sacrifice his family’s reputation and wealth to make it up to an old flame he had.

Unexpectedly, his reply, solid and certain, came back to me like a blow to the gut.

“Sure. North End is yours.”