The first time I saw Victor, he was just another street punk, slick with blood. The only clean thing about him was the raw, clumsy sincerity in his eyes when he tattooed my name over his heart. Later, when he seized power, he gifted me half the Waterfront as a wedding present. Everyone in the city knew: I, Ava Costello, was his everything. Until today, when the little starlet Victor was keeping shimmied into my home. She stood there, one hand on her swelling belly, her eyes curving into a smug smile as she offered her advice. “Ms. Costello, are you going to walk out of here with your dignity, or are you going to wait for my son to grow up and throw you out?” I raised a hand and had my men drag her away to “take care of the problem.” Victor saw the pool of blood spreading beneath her and his face twisted with fury. He pressed a knife to my throat. “Ava,” he hissed, his voice a low growl, “you need to learn some goddamn gratitude.” I just laughed, the sound soft as I pressed the muzzle of my pistol against his heart. “You’ve really changed. Good thing I haven’t.” “The only thing real in my heart... has always been my ambition.” Bang. The gunshot echoed through the hall. 1 The one who fell was Limpy, the man who had hobbled in Victor’s shadow for a decade. “That attached to her, are you? It makes sense. Limpy was the one who so carefully trained that little actress before delivering her to your bed. I suppose he did a fine job, if she could make you this furious with me.” My gaze dropped to the sliver of cold steel still resting against my neck. I scoffed. “Aren't you going to do it, Victor? You were never this indecisive before.” “What’s the matter? Your hand is shaking.” My mocking gaze was a physical blow. In the silent war of our eyes, he was the first to break. He threw the knife down, the clatter echoing his defeat, and sank back onto the sofa. “Limpy was with me for ten years. What you did… it was too much, Ava. Too cruel.” A faint smile touched my lips as my men dragged Limpy’s body from the room. “He wasn’t you.” “You’re the only one I’m ever soft on.” Victor looked at me, his expression a tangled knot of emotions. “I want Vivian to stay.” “This life… it’s all blood and shadows. I’m tired, Ava. Vivian is like… an open window. She lets me breathe. She makes me feel like a simple man, someone who could have a normal life, buying groceries and cooking dinner.” I didn’t answer right away. I placed my gun on the table beside me. I took my time lighting a cigarette, the smoke curling around my fingers before I finally spoke. “Normal?” “Victor, have you told her about the blood on your hands? The dirty money in your ledgers? The enemies who hunt you in the dead of night? You want to place her quiet little world of picket fences into the middle of all this?” “That’s not a simple life. That’s a death wish.” Victor’s brow furrowed, his patience wearing thin. “Ava, I’m not discussing this with you.” “I’m informing you.” He stood and walked into the other room, returning with Vivian in his arms. Her bleeding had stopped, and her pale, unconscious face was nestled against his chest. In the flickering lamplight, she looked disturbingly like a younger version of me. “Ava, just be the lady of the house.” “This is your last chance. If you dare touch Vivian again, I won’t show you any mercy.” Victor swept out with his men, the wide-open door letting in a gust of wind that extinguished the cigarette between my fingers. My right-hand man, Justin, stepped forward and relit it for me. “The gun was aimed off-target,” he murmured. “Did you go soft?” I exhaled a plume of smoke, repeating his words with a dry, mocking tone. “Soft? I never intended to kill him.” “One bullet is all it would take to end Victor’s life. But what I want are the passwords to his Swiss accounts, the ledgers of his gray-market dealings, and every last one of his legitimate businesses.” “Death would be getting off easy.” Justin, who had just been unsettled by my apparent mercy, now felt a chill run down his spine at the venom in my words. He asked a question that was almost naive. “Don’t you… don’t you love him?” A thousand memories flashed behind my eyes, leaving only a faint shadow of something like exhaustion, or perhaps nostalgia. “Love him? Of course, I do.” “Otherwise, what were the last ten years of dodging bullets with him for? A game?” “But love is a painkiller, Justin. Power… power is oxygen. You take a pill when you’re in pain, and it helps. But you can live without it. Cut off the oxygen, and you’re dead in minutes.” As if on cue, the grandfather clock in the hall chimed the hour, its crisp notes slicing through the silence. Justin glanced at a text that had just appeared on his phone. “Latest update, boss. The head of the Northside Outfit, Don Costello, just died. They’re saying… heart attack.” “Hm,” I replied, a single, cold syllable. Justin couldn't help but take a half-step closer, his voice laced with confusion. “You’re… not surprised? He was your father, after all.” The corner of my mouth twitched into something that might have been a smile. “Why would I be surprised?” “That was my work.” Justin’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, and the color drained from his face. I watched his horrified expression, my voice as calm as if I were discussing the weather. “Any stone in my path gets cleared.” “My own father… was no different.” The ember at the tip of my cigarette reached my fingers. I crushed it out in the ashtray and looked at him. “Any more questions?” Justin bowed his head, not daring to ask another word. I stood, picking up the gun from the table and gesturing vaguely toward a spare room. “Victor said he wants Vivian to stay? Fine. Let her stay.” “The show’s just getting started.” 2 The sharp click of heels echoed from the foyer. Vivian’s sweet, cloying voice drifted in as she directed Victor’s men with her luggage. “Be careful with that!” “Victor bought that for me at an auction. Don’t you dare scratch it.” She stood in the center of the opulent villa, her eyes sweeping over everything with a greedy, defiant hunger. Her gaze finally landed on my back as I sat on the sofa, reviewing a stack of documents. She sauntered over. “Sister,” she began, the word dripping with false sweetness. “Victor said the air is better out here. He wants me to move in so we can get to know each other.” “You don’t mind, do you?” I didn’t look up. I turned a page of the financial report, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. “I do.” Vivian was taken aback by my bluntness, by the fact that I wouldn’t even pretend to play nice. She froze for a second, then her smile widened, blooming with a foolish arrogance. “It doesn’t matter if you mind.” “This is what Victor wants. He said that once I learn the ropes of the business, I’ll be the new lady of this house.” As she spoke, she wandered over to the liquor cabinet. She picked up one of my prized crystal glasses. “This is nice. I’ll use it to drink my sweet tea.” Seeing that I was still ignoring her, Vivian marched over and sat down beside me, snatching the documents from my hands. “What are you looking at?” “You’re not allowed to see these anymore. From now on, only I can read these papers!” The freshly printed A4 paper was sharp. As she ripped it away, its edge sliced a thin, stinging line across my palm, drawing a bead of blood. Only then did I finally turn my gaze to her. I looked at her the way you might look at a piece of trash, with a coldness utterly devoid of feeling. Honestly, it had been years since I’d met someone so eager to die. “Who let you in here?” “Victor, of course. Who do you think you—” I cut her off, my voice still quiet, but carrying the weight of unspoken threat. “There is only one master in this house.” My presence seemed to stun her for a moment. But she quickly recovered, puffing out her chest and standing to look down on me. “You dare touch me?” she sneered. “Victor told me that yesterday was the last time he’d tolerate your behavior. If you lay a hand on me again, he’ll throw you out on the street!” A small, cold smile touched my lips, but it never reached my eyes. I stood up, pulling the pistol from the small of my back and reloading it right in front of her. “Touch you?” “You’d dirty my hands.” I suddenly raised the gun— Vivian shrieked, dropping to the floor and covering her head, her eyes squeezed shut. But the shot she expected never came. My aim wasn't on her. It was on the liquor cabinet behind her. The next second—CRACK! The explosive sound of shattering crystal ripped through the room. Flying shards of glass peppered the air, one of them slicing a deep, bloody gash across Vivian’s calf. She was frozen in terror, her face ashen. She had forgotten how to even cry. “It’s filthy now,” I said calmly. “Have someone clean it up.” Justin immediately nodded. I looked down at the trembling girl and leaned in close. I spoke each word with chilling precision. “The last person who dared to act like this in front of me was named Limpy. Yesterday, I sent him to meet his maker.” “If you don’t believe me, I can send you down to ask him yourself.” With that, I straightened up, pulled out my phone, and dialed Victor’s number. I put it on speaker. “You have twenty minutes to get your girl and her trash out of my house.” “Otherwise, you can start planning a funeral.” 3 Twelve minutes later, the screech of tires tore through the quiet afternoon. Victor stormed into the villa, his face a mask of thunder, with his top enforcer, Bruno, right behind him. His eyes immediately found Vivian, collapsed on the floor with a bloody leg, weeping hysterically. Behind her, a massive hole had been blown through my liquor cabinet. His rage ignited. The moment Vivian saw Victor, she scrambled toward him like he was her savior, collapsing into his arms. Her sobs grew more pathetic. “Victor, she… she’s trying to kick me out!” “And… and she tried to shoot me! I was so scared…” Victor murmured a few comforting words to her before turning his fury on me. “Ava, what the hell is the meaning of this?” “I just warned you yesterday! She lost our child because of you! She’s still recovering!” I remained seated on the sofa, not having moved an inch. I met his blazing eyes with a calm that was almost terrifying. “The meaning?” “Was I not clear enough on the phone?” My unshakable composure only fueled his anger. “Ava, this is my house!” “I’ll have whoever I want live here. You don’t get to give the orders.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. An image flashed in my mind: Victor bringing me here for the first time. His young face was flushed with excitement as he showed me the unfinished house, waving his arms around wildly. “Ava, this will be our home. You can decorate it however you want, do whatever you want. In this house, you’re the boss!” And now, here he was, ordering me to tolerate his mistress. I stood up. “Your house?” “Victor, have you forgotten? This villa… whose name is on the deed? And while we’re at it, the legal ownership of all your ‘clean’ businesses… who holds that title?” Victor was momentarily speechless. But one look at the weeping girl in his arms hardened his resolve. “You…” My gaze flickered to Vivian, still playing the victim. “For her? A toy you’ve known for seven months, one who was hand-picked and trained just for you?” “You’re willing to burn everything down between us for that? Have you thought this through?” Victor’s towering rage suddenly deflated, his bravado gone. I smiled and stepped closer. My voice dropped to a low hiss, like a viper’s whisper. “What do you think would happen if I took those real ledgers from your safe and sent them over to the Northside Outfit? I hear their new boss is looking to make a name for himself. Or perhaps I could give them to Detective Miller at the Financial Crimes Unit…” “Do you think you’d still be able to stand here, parading your little lover in my face?” Victor fell silent. When my eyes swept over Bruno, even he instinctively lowered his head, unable to meet my gaze. I gave Justin a slight nod. He immediately understood and stepped forward, making a polite, but firm, “this way” gesture to Victor. “Sir, the car is waiting outside.” Victor’s face was dark as a storm cloud. He held Vivian tight and stalked out of the villa without a backward glance. “Ma’am,” Justin said quietly once they were gone. “Showing your hand so openly like that… Victor is bound to make a move.” “You…” I just shook my head, a faint smile on my lips. “That wasn’t a trump card, Justin. That was me, being merciful, and giving him one last chance.” “If he dares to make a move, that’s when he truly loses.”
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