My fiancé stole my sister on the very night he was supposed to propose to me, and my own mother told me not to embarrass the family. Ten minutes later, his older brother—the most feared Mafia Boss in Chicago—made me an offer so outrageous it would change every powerful family in the city forever.

By midnight, the Museum of Fine Arts was completely locked down by Nikolai's private security force. No police were called; in our world, internal betrayals were handled entirely within the family walls.

Julian sat tied to a heavy wooden chair in the museum's private storage basement, his shoulder bandaged roughly by a Moretti medic.

Serena sat in a corner, sobbing uncontrollably, guarded by two armed men.

My parents were brought into the basement thirty minutes later by Nikolai’s team. My mother was pale with shock, and my father looked broken, realizing that their reckless ambition had finally led them to the edge of an abyss.

Marco Moretti sat on a crate across from his younger son, his face aged twenty years in a single night.

"You conspired with Detroit, Julian," Marco said softly, his voice trembling with deep, profound disappointment. "You brought armed assassins into a building where your own brother and family were standing. That is treason against the family."

Julian looked up, weeping through his bruises. "Father... please! Nikolai took everything from me! He took Evelyn! He took my inheritance!"

"You gave Evelyn away!" Marco shouted, his voice echoing through the damp basement. "You traded gold for trash, and when you realized your mistake, you tried to murder the woman who saved this family's honor!"

Marco stood up, pulling a black revolver from his belt. He handed the weapon to Nikolai.

"Handle your brother, Nikolai," Marco said coldly, turning his back. "He is no longer a Moretti."

Silence fell over the room—heavy, suffocating, and absolute.

Julian shrieked, thrashing against his ropes. "Nikolai! No! I'm your brother! Evelyn, please! Tell him to stop! You're my sister!"

I stood beside Nikolai. I looked at Julian—the man who had tried to humiliate me, who had tried to steal my future, and who had tried to murder me in the garden.

Then I looked at my parents, who were staring at the floor, unable to defend their favorite daughter's fiancé.

"He doesn't die," I spoke clearly, my voice cutting through the panic.

Nikolai looked at me, his eyebrow raised slightly, his finger resting against the trigger. "Evelyn?"

"Death is too quick for him," I said calmly, stepping forward until I stood right in front of Julian. "Julian spends the rest of his life in exile. Stripped of the Moretti name, stripped of every cent, barred from ever setting foot in the state of Illinois again. If he returns, he dies."

I turned my gaze to Serena.

"And Serena," I added coldly. "Serena goes with him. She wanted the life Julian offered. Now she gets to live it with him in a two-bedroom apartment in rural Ohio on minimum wage."

Serena gasped, looking at me with absolute horror. "Evelyn... no! You can't do this to me!"

"I just did," I replied flatly.

Nikolai looked down at me, a low, quiet laugh bubbling up from his chest. He lowered the gun, handing it back to his father's bodyguard.

"You heard my wife," Nikolai announced to the room. "Put them on a bus to Ohio by three AM. If either of them steps across the state line... shoot them on sight."

Nikolai walked over to my parents, who were trembling in the corner.

"As for you, Arthur," Nikolai said smoothly. "You will surrender your remaining shares in the Hart foundation to Evelyn by noon tomorrow. You and your wife will retire to your house in Florida, and you will never speak to the press again."

My father nodded frantically, eager to escape with his life. "Yes... of course, Nikolai. Anything you want."