The Principessa's Art of War

It was also a celebratory gift for when I secured the first major territory for the family.

Now, beneath the falcon's talons, there was a coiled viper—the symbol of the Russo family.

Trevor had told me this tattoo symbolized our eternal loyalty and that I shouldn't overthink it.

At the time, I was even angry with him for not understanding what the totem meant to our family.

Looking back now, it was laughable. It was nothing less than a confession of his betrayal and an indictment of my own foolishness.

I could picture her now, eyes darting in panic, lips trembling, unable to utter a single word if I were to call her out on it.

Just then, Trevor rushed over.

As if granted amnesty, she scrambled to hide behind him.

I watched her scramble away, a contemptuous smile touching my lips. I nonchalantly flicked the ash from my cigarette and turned to leave.

Then, I called my brother, Dominic Marchesi.

Dominic was the Underboss of the Marchesi family, and also Trevor's superior.

I said calmly, "Dominic, freeze Trevor out. From everything. I'm cleaning house. Yes, that's right. He's been keeping a snake. A Russo snake."

My brother's intel unit was fast. That evening, I received an encrypted hard drive.

I connected it to my laptop and saw the truth Trevor had been hiding from me all along.

Every last bit of it.

On October 10th of last year, I was in an "accidental" car crash while inspecting our territory in the South Side of Chicago. We had planned to celebrate my victory together, but Trevor was unreachable. I was in the hospital for three days and lost our child.

As it turned out, he was vacationing overseas with Cassia, celebrating their upcoming "new life."

On November 6th, after the miscarriage, I was recovering at home, my spirit broken. He presented me with what he claimed was a long-lost Renaissance masterpiece, saying he’d pulled countless strings to find it.

We had a dinner that night, intimate and candlelit, a perfect illusion of warmth.

Only now did I learn that the art was just a vehicle for him to launder money to her family.

That seemingly elaborate date he prepared, from the wine list to the decor, was just a carbon copy of his date with her the day before.

The next day, he left under the pretext of a business trip, but he was actually taking Cassia to a cruise party.

In the party photos, everyone was smiling happily. Most of them were Capos in our family. Some had even sat at the main table at our wedding.

There they were, having the time of their lives with Trevor and his mistress. Such loyal men of his.

As I scrolled through the contents of the hard drive, my heart plunged into an icy abyss.

Just as I was about to close the laptop, the name of an audio file caught my eye.

My breath caught, and a chill snaked up my spine. With a trembling finger, I clicked on the file.

It was a recording of a conversation between Trevor and a hitman.

At the bottom of the report, a warning was written in stark letters: Attack is highly effective during early-stage pregnancy. Guarantees foolproof miscarriage.

Scrolling further down, I saw a screenshot of Cassia's encrypted messages.

She was reassuring Trevor.

Our child is the only future for this family.