Book 2 of the 𝕱𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖈𝖑𝖚𝖇 series
{Duology}
𖤓
𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘.
𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖇𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚.
𖤓
𝕬𝖈𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆 𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎 got tricked once, but she vowed never to be fooled...
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Silence fell over the room like a shroud as every head turned to look at the entrance. The tension was thick, a palpable electricity humming in the air as the crowd waited with bated breath. Accalia straightened her posture, her heart hammering in her chest.
Because it wasn't a simple young Italian mafia princess who walked through those doors.
It was Accalia Lucia Morelli, the Irish mafia donna.
Dressed in a sleek, floor-length gold gown, her long chocolate hair cascading down her back, Lia walked into the ballroom with her head held high, her eyes cold and unwavering. The effect was immediate. The murmurs stopped. The stares followed her every step as she descended the grand staircase, each footfall echoing through the suddenly quiet room.
They had thought her dead. And yet, here she was. Alive. And well.
Roman, who had been sitting with the rest of the family, watched his sister approach with barely concealed pride. He had kept her secret (the only one who knew about the Irish mafia along with Kieran), protected her plan, and now, she was finally taking her rightful place. His little sister, the mafia princess they all thought they had lost, had returned with vengeance on her mind.
The rest of the Morellis were all speechless. Looking at their dead sister-cousin-daughter and niece. Tears welled in Rosalyn's eyes and Asa held Seraphina's hand tighter. Was she really here?
As Lia reached the bottom of the staircase, the entire room seemed to hold its breath. Her gaze swept across the crowd, taking in the shocked faces of those who had wronged her, betrayed her, or underestimated her. But her eyes found only one person.
Atticus.
He stood there, frozen, his eyes unwavering from her with disbelief. For a long moment, neither of them moved. The ballroom could have been on fire, and they wouldn't have noticed.
It looked like a proud smile formed on her face but he saw the three words that made his heart beat again if only for a second. I love you. She had mouthed to him.
Then, in the dead silence "Welcome to this year's mafia ball!" the Irish mafia donna spoke.
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Because this wasn't the return of a mafia princess. This was the arrival of a new force to be reckoned with. Accalia Lucia Morelli wasn't here to mourn.
She was here to claim her revenge.
The crowd didn't speak. Dons, heirs, everyone stared at her. Zeta had the proudest glimmer in her eyes, watching how her friend's little girl had grown so much and became a wonderful woman.
Accalia was having the time of her life watching Flynn's façade start to crumble.
The tension in the room thickened as Accalia's gaze swept over the gathered mafia heads. She took a deliberate step forward, her heels clicking against the marble floor, each sound reverberating like a countdown.
