The sheer audacity almost made me laugh. He was the one who had taken another woman into his bed while I balanced his books and buried his evidence. He was the one who had skimmed tribute payments owed to the Commission and used my family's name — my family's name, the Ferrante name, the name I had hidden for five years to protect him — as collateral for deals he never intended to honor. He was the one who threw everything away. Yet somehow, in the story he told himself while he smoothed his tie and lied to his own reflection, I was the villain.
I let out a quiet chuckle. The sound was small and precise, and it landed in the silence of that room like a coin dropped on marble.
Then I threw his own words right back at him. "Nico, don't think this is over. You'll learn soon enough what happens when you mess with me."