Shattered Vows

Liam

I spent seventeen years waiting for this moment.
Seventeen years imagining what I would do when Marco finally lost everything.
I thought it would feel different.
I thought revenge would feel like peace.
But sitting in my office, staring at his name on every piece of paper in front of me, all I felt was the same anger I carried when I was ten years old.
The same anger I felt standing beside my mother's empty chair.
The same anger I felt when they told me my father was gone.
Nothing had changed.
Except now I had a way to end it.
Marco had spent years building walls around himself.
Money.
Power.
Men willing to die for him.
But every person had a weakness.
And Marco's weakness was Isabella.
I hated that it was her.
Because she didn't deserve to be part of this.
But neither did my family.
And Marco never cared about who got hurt.
Why should I?
I looked at the photograph sitting on my desk.
My mother.
My father.
The family we used to be.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
Because I knew what I was about to do would make them question me.
My brothers.
Myself.
Maybe even them.
But I had already lost too much to stop now.
The next morning, the Alessi house was louder than usual.
It always was when my brothers were together.
For years, this house had been filled with arguments, laughter, and chaos.
Things I never allowed myself to enjoy.
Because someone had to be responsible.
Someone had to make sure we survived.
That person became me.
Lorenzo was sitting at the table when I walked in.
He looked up immediately.
"You didn't sleep."
It wasn't a question.
I ignored him and poured coffee.
"You're going after Marco."
His words made me stop.
Matteo and Alessio went quiet.
They knew.
They always knew.
"I'm finishing what he started."
Lorenzo watched me carefully.
"No."
I looked at him.
"No?"
"You're not finishing anything. You're letting him control the rest of your life."
My jaw tightened.
"You think I should just forget?"
"No."
His voice softened.
"I think you should remember why you started."
Silence.
Because that was the thing nobody understood.
I didn't want revenge because I enjoyed violence.
I wanted revenge because I wanted my parents to matter.
I wanted the world to know Marco couldn't take everything and walk away.
The file was placed in front of me.
Isabella Moretti.
I stared at her name.
The woman Marco claimed belonged to him.
The woman carrying his child.
Everyone believed she was proof of his victory.
But something about her bothered me.
At the hospital, she didn't look like someone who loved him.
She looked like someone afraid of him.
And fear was something I knew.
I knew exactly what it looked like.
I had seen it on my brothers' faces when we lost our parents.
I had seen it on my own face when I realized I was only ten years old and suddenly responsible for everyone.
I picked up the file.
"Find out everything about her."
Lorenzo looked at me.
"Why?"
I closed the folder.
"Because if I'm going to use her to destroy Marco..."
I paused.
"...I need to know who I'm putting in the middle of this."