SERAFINA'S POV
The photo sat on the table like a loaded gun.
My father’s grave. Dug up. Violated.
He was my hero. He was even a good man.
He was mine. And the message was clear—they weren’t just coming for my empire. They were coming for my legacy. My name. My bloodline.
Alonzo stood near the window, fists clenched, eyes on me.
“I’ll have it verified,” he said, already dialing.
“No,” I snapped. “I’ll do it myself.”
He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had. But if they thought desecrating my family would rattle me, they were wrong. All they’d done was ignite the part of me I kept chained in the darkest corners of my soul.
The one with no mercy.
The one with the blade.
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SICILY – VALENTINO FAMILY CEMETERY – TWELVE HOURS LATER
The wind howled through the graveyard lik
