Chapter 4

That evening, Jason came.

Impeccable suit, but the dark circles under his eyes were brutal—like he hadn't slept in days.

"Alice."

I said nothing.

He looked at me, his expression tangled with something complicated:

"Black family stocks have tanked hard. Offshore shadow banks are pulling out. The Blacks and the Council of Elders are both putting pressure on me."

"And?"

He took a deep breath, pulled his phone from his pocket, swiped a few times, and handed it to me.

On the screen was a pre-drafted statement.

I took it and read line by line:

*This is Alice. I want to set the record straight about recent events.*

*Jason Capone and I were together once, but that was a long time ago.*

*We broke up before his marriage to Sofia Black this year. I'm the one who couldn't let go—I kept pursuing him.*

*I reached out to him, trying to win him back. I drugged Jason to get pregnant, hoping to use the baby to force a divorce.*

*When Donna Sofia found out, she was understandably furious. Her post was meant to make me back off. This is entirely my fault. Sofia has nothing to do with it.*

I looked up at Jason.

"You want me to post this?"

"The Black family needs an explanation." Jason gripped my shoulders, his voice urgent. "If you say this, Sofia becomes the victim—the deceived wife. The Capone-Black alliance holds. The stock recovers. You know how many wolves are circling, waiting for me to slip up so they can tear the Blacks apart and feast."

"And if I don't?"

"Right now, you're the only one who can defuse this. Post it, and the Blacks calm down. Your father's business stays under my protection. Don't post it, and neither side can walk away clean."

"Alice, don't make me use family methods."

Jason gave me three days to think it over.

Three days later, he texted:

*Alice, have you decided?*

I didn't reply.

He called. I declined.

He texted again: *Alice, don't push me.*

Still no response.

I was gambling—betting on eight years of love, betting on his last shred of conscience.

But the Don of a Mafia family has no conscience. I lost.

On the seventh day, my father's shipping company was forcibly liquidated and shut down.

The Federal Task Force raided overnight, citing severe accounting irregularities and money-laundering channels.

The fabricated evidence had materialized out of thin air.

Dad called. His voice was destroyed.

"Alice, the company's gone."

I stood at the window, gripping my phone. "Dad…"

"A team from the Task Force just came through. Took all the books. They're talking about major money laundering—could be thirty years…" He couldn't go on.

"Dad, don't panic. Let me think of something…"

"Alice."

He cut me off. His voice went suddenly, deathly calm. "Tell me the truth."

My heart sank. "What?"

"Is this because of that man from the Capone family?"

I said nothing.

"The day the company first got hit—that was the day you broke up with him. Then suddenly everything was fine again—that was the day you got back together. And now it's happening again…" His voice was shaking. "Alice, is he using me to threaten you?"

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. "Dad…"

"Don't lie to me."

I closed my eyes. Tears poured out.

"…Yes."

Dead silence on the other end.

After what felt like forever, he said: "Alice, I understand now."

"Dad, listen to me, I still have options—"

The line went dead.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling until three in the morning.

My phone erupted—Dad's number.

I picked up, but it wasn't his voice on the other end. It was the wail of sirens and the chaos of a crowd.

A stranger's voice: "Hello? Is this Alice Renaud?"

"Yes. Who is this? Where's my father?"

Several minutes of silence before he spoke.

"Your father, Mr. Renaud, jumped from the Brooklyn Bridge. The body has been recovered. I'm sorry for your loss…"