The following weeks unfolded exactly as she had intended.
The news spread through the criminal underworld like wildfire—Dario Cattaneo, dead from an assassination attempt.
His enemies were blamed immediately, giving Loreley the perfect excuse to consolidate power, to eliminate the last of his most loyal men under the guise of vengeance.
She played the role of the devastated widow flawlessly, weeping at the funeral, accepting condolences from men who would soon kneel before her.
But behind closed doors, she was already making changes.
She cut off loose ends. Strengthened alliances. Took control of every aspect of the Cattaneo empire with the ruthless efficiency of someone who had spent years waiting for this moment.
And when she finally stood in front of the mirror, wearing black silk, her hair draped in mourning, she allowed herself a single, satisfied smile.
The girl who had once been humiliated. The girl who had once been owned.
She was gone.
In her place stood something far more dangerous. A queen.
Almost three years had passed since Loreley had been humiliated, cast aside, and erased.
Years since she had walked out of her father's house with nothing but her name and the fire in her veins.
Years since she had turned that fire into a weapon.
Now, she sat at the head of the Cattaneo empire, a queen draped in black silk and power.
The woman who had once been a pawn was now the one pulling the strings. And tonight, she was celebrating.
The private lounge of 'The Queens' was filled with the scent of aged whiskey, smoke curling lazily from the cigars burning in crystal ashtrays.
The dim lighting cast long shadows across the sleek, leather-lined room, the atmosphere buzzing with quiet conversation and murmured deals.
Riley leaned back against the bar, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. "One year," she mused, lifting a brow. "Never thought I'd see the day."
Loreley smirked, tapping her own glass against Riley's before taking a slow sip. "Neither did they."
She gestured subtly toward the men scattered throughout the lounge—powerful figures who, just a year ago, had doubted her, tested her, tried to undermine her after her husband's death.
Now, they sat comfortably in her space, drinking her whiskey, operating under her rule.
The transformation had been anything but easy.
She had inherited Dario's empire, but she had built her own. She had replaced his most loyal enforcers with men who owed her everything.
She had expanded operations, strengthening alliances Dario had been too arrogant to nurture.
Most importantly, she had made it clear—she was not to be underestimated.
The first year had been brutal. The second had been undeniable. And now, in her third year, there was no one left to challenge her.
Except the ghosts of her past.
Loreley's phone buzzed against the marble countertop. She barely glanced at it before lifting the glass to her lips again. But then she saw the name.
Liliana.
Her stomach tightened, her fingers pausing for just a fraction of a second before she answered. "Sister?"
A sharp inhale crackled through the receiver. Then, a voice she hadn't heard in three years.
"It's Mom," Liliana whispered. "She's dying."
The words landed like a knife to the gut, but Loreley kept her expression neutral.
She had bled too much to let emotions rule her now. Riley watched her carefully, setting her drink down.
Loreley took a slow breath, schooling her voice into something distant. "What's wrong with her?"
Liliana hesitated. "It's bad, Loreley. The doctors don't think she has much time. She's asking for you."
Loreley's grip on the glass tightened.
After everything—after watching her father sit in silence as she was thrown to the wolves, after being erased like she had never existed—her mother was asking for her.
A bitter smile curled at the edges of her lips. And yet... It's Mom.
She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. "Does Father know you called me?"
A pause.
Then, quietly, "No."
Of course not. Don Moretti had cut her out like a rotting limb. If he had his way, she would have stayed gone forever.
Which meant this was dangerous.
If she returned, she would be walking straight back into a world filled with enemies who would love nothing more than to see her fall.
Enemies like Zayden Xandros.
Enemies like Brooks Bellini.
Enemies like her own father.
And yet, Loreley found herself answering in a voice softer than she intended. "I'll be there."
Riley didn't even wait for her to hang up before speaking. "This is a bad idea."
Loreley sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know."
Riley scoffed. "Then why the hell are you doing it?"
Because it was her mother.
Because the girl who had been cast out and broken was still buried somewhere inside her, still reaching for something she should have let go of years ago.
Because despite everything, she wasn't done with the Moretti family.
Not yet.
She set her glass down, meeting Riley's gaze with quiet resolve. "I have to."
Riley cursed under her breath, rubbing a hand down her face. "Loreley, you rule this city. You don't need them. You don't need him."
The name wasn't spoken, but it didn't need to be.
Zayden.
The man who had shattered her world in a single night. The man who had humiliated her, discarded her like she was nothing.
The man who might still be her biggest threat.
Loreley's lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.
"I'm not the same woman they betrayed," she murmured. "They'll see that soon enough."