The Don’s Final Chapter

From here on out, the empire of the Colleo family, along with the Bilottis, was destined to fall.

“Once the evidence is released, you’ll be at the center of the storm. All records of Evelyn will be wiped from existence.”

The lawyer’s warning hung heavy in my mind.

I let out a soft breath.

So be it.

I entrusted the crucial part of the plan to Gray.

For the final takedown, I would need a distraction big enough to grab everyone’s attention.

“Ms. Mancini, are you planning to strike at the engagement party? With every major player present, the risk is too high,” Gray cautioned.

“That will be the day.” I balled my fists, my fingers digging into my palms.

My complicated history with Vincent went back seven years.

It was about time I ended the game that started with lies.

I slipped out of the temporary hideout and took a detour to get to Vincent’s private club.

The valets’ gossip reached my ears. “Don Colleo spoils Sophia silly. He rented out the penthouse for the night and hired a jazz band.”

“Tsk. When I went to deliver the drinks, Sophia was sitting on the Don Colleo’s lap, serving fruit up to his mouth. Imagine that.”

“Seriously, how many times has this happened now? The last time she sulked, Don Colleo gave her a beachfront mansion straight away.”

Without stopping, I shifted my gaze to the shadowed area of the club.

The emergency exit was left ajar.

“Does your chest still hurt, Vincent? You can only have eyes for me. Stop thinking about Evelyn.” Sophia pouted.

It took a short pause before Vincent’s voice, persuasive and upbeat, echoed. “Yes, of course. I’ll only have eyes for you.”

The door swung open soon after.

Vincent stepped out while straightening his collar.

Sophia trailed behind, her hair tousled.

The smile on Vincent’s face stiffened the moment he saw me.

Sophia took several steps forward, a smile, both innocent and defiant, playing across her lips.

Her voice was sickly sweet. “Oh, Evelyn. Vincent said you once made him a little good-luck charm. I’ve been trying to make something for him too, but it never turns out right. Mind if I take a look at yours?”

Speaking of the lucky charm, I spent six months stitching it by the lamp late at night after closing time at the fish market.

The coarse fabric had the initials V and E stitched into one corner.

They were the initials of our names—V and E.

Drawing a deep breath, I turned on my heel to walk away.

“Don’t go, Evelyn! I’m not done talking.” Sophia caught up to me and grabbed me by the wrist.

I yanked my arm away, but anticipating my reaction, she held on tightly.

Amid the struggle, Sophia tumbled back with a shriek.

She slammed against the scrap metal rack.

Meanwhile, I lost my footing.

I fell right into a puddle of grime and broken glass.

A sharp pain shot up from my thigh.

Lunging forward, Vincent nervously helped Sophia up and examined her arm.

He turned to look at me, curled up on the ground, his brows furrowed. “Evelyn, you should know better! Sophia is delicate. You can’t be rough with her!”

The looks of disdain around made me feel as if I were the unreasonable, wicked woman.