THE DON’S BRAND

Counterpart

Diego stepped in. Clean Suit. Calm face.

Rel's eyes lit up for half a second. Hope. Stupid hope.

Diego looked at Draco. " He say anything? Who gave him the job?" His voice was low. Almost soft. " Not a word," Draco said.

Diego clicked his tongue. " Soft." He picked up a wooden cane. Spun it in his hand once, twice. Then faced Rel.

The first hit. Rel yelped.

Diego laughed. Hit him again. And again. And again.

" I wanna talk," Rel croaked.

Diego didn't stop

Draco tried to get his attention. " Boss__"

Too late.

The next two hits came to Rel's head.

Back to Back.

Rel's body went stiff.

" You just killed the only person who had answers,"

Draco said, stunned.

Diego didn't even look at him. He dropped the cane wiped his bloody hands with a clean white hand-kerchief, and turned.

" This low you handle a wild animal," he said.

" Go tell Leonardo his handled- the rat's dealt with."

Then he walked out.

Draco just stood there, staring at Rel's body. What the hell just happened?

Then it clicked.

Diego had a hand in this. Maybe he was the mastermind.

* WIRETAB ROOM *

The room was silent except for the sound on the TV.

Low light. Leather chair. A glass of Whiskey untouched on the desk.

On the screen: Rel

Leonardo didn't blink. Didn't flinch. He just watched as it played out. The consequence of betrayal.

Rel hadn't talked. Rel had chosen wrong.

Just as he had anticipated but it seems that it was the wrong person that came from him but still all piece matched.

Marco Hart.

Never know you could be this stupid his tongue clicked below his teeth.

When it was over, Leonardo exhaled. A small humorless smile touched his mouth.

" clean it," he said, not looking away from the screen.

One of his men nodded and killed the feed.

Leonardo stood. Straightened his cuff links.

" Marco Hart," he said quietly. " Look into him. Every account. Every move. Every persons he talks to."

A pause.

" the job goes to Marci."

The grin that came from the doorway was immediate.

Marci Hart. Marco's twin. Underboss. And the one who'd been waiting years to watch his brother fall.

He had just returned from his 6 years sentences in prison for a crime his brother committed.

" Finally," Marci said, smirk wide. " He's been digging his own grave. I'll just hand him the shovel."

Leonardo didn't smile back. He just walked out.

* His Room. *

The first thing that greeted him want the king- size bed or the guns in the drawer.

It was her.

A framed picture of Emilia. Bright smile. Sunlight in her hair. Taken before all this.

He picked it up, his thumb brushed over the glass, over her face, like he could touch her through it.

His smile softened. Then faded.

" your dad made a mistake by betraying me," he muttered, voice low. " And he will pay for it."

His jaw tightened.

" But I know you'll be hurt in the process... or maybe not."

He set frame down carefully. Stared at it.

An idea hit him. Cold. Calculated.

His phone was in his hand before he even thought about it.

It rang twice.

" Leonardo," Marco answered. Tense. Professional.

The conversation was short. All business.

Seating. Donations. Appearances.

Then__

" Bring Emilia with you tonight. To the gala."

" What?" Marco's voice sharpened. " Leonardo, she's not_"

Leonardo cut him off. " I wasn't asking, Marco."

Click.

Call ended.

On the other hand, Marco was left standing in his study. Phone still at his ear, dazed.

Selena looked up from where she sat. " what did he say?"

Marco didn't answer.

Because for the first time, he didn't know how to protect his daughter from this.

And back in Leonardo's room, he picked up Emilia's picture again.

" You weren't supposed to be part of this, Tesoro," he whispered. " But now you are,"

* Back To The Torture Room *

The door to the torture room clicked shut behind Diego.

He didn't look back. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, hands washed clean, but the weight was still on him.

He pulled out his phone. Dialed.

It rang once.

" Marco." Diego's voice was flat. Cold.

" The job is done," he said. " Rel won't be a problem again."

Silence on the other end.

Diego exhaled. " And Marco? Don't ever drag me into this level of mess again because you trusted the wrong people. Clean your own mess.

Marco didn't answer right away.

On his end, he was still reeling from Leonardo's call. Bring Emilia. An order, not a request.

So he swallowed it. All of it. The humiliation. The rage. The fear.

" Understood," he said quietly. Then he hung up.

The phone clicked dead.

For a long second Marco just stood there in his study. The lights were off. Only the city glow through the window.

His fist clenched at his side. Knuckles whites

" just watch," he muttered, so low it was Almost to himself. " just watch until I end you all... and take all full control of the empire."

The words hung in the air.

Not only to Diego. Not only to Leonardo.

To everyone who thought he was weak.

* Morning At The Hart House... *

The butler knocked twice before pushing the door open.

" Miss Emilia. Breakfast is served."

Emilia blinked against the morning light. Her room still smelled like last night— Lavender from Selena's pillow spray, and the faint grace of the talk they didn't finish. She sat up slowly. Hair a mess, and pulled her robe around her.

Downstairs was warm. Too warm. The smell of eggs, Plantain, and coffee filled the dinning room, but it didn't feel normal.

Selena and Marco were already there.

Selena in a cream silk blouse, hair pinned up, but her eyes were tired. Marco in his usual crisp shirt, reading glasses low on his nose as he scrolled through something on his tablet about " The Sovereign night."

Emilia puked out her chair. " Good morning." Her voice was quiet.

" Morning, baby," Selena said instantly, already reaching for the serving spoon. She piled eggs into Emilia's plate, the. Plantain, then fruit. " Eat."

Emilia stared at the food. She wasn't hungry. Not really.

Her parents were deep in conversation about a gala she heard about from Mrs. Laura the other day at the mall. Seating charts. Donations. Who had been invited and the list really met the couple's expectation.

The gala.

The word sat in Emilia's chest like a stone. The last time she'd gone anywhere without them watching every second, everything fell apart. Curfews. Rules. The late night talks in her bedroom.

She was pushing eggs around when Marci looked up.

" Honey."

Emilia's head snapped up.

" you shouldn't ready. You're coming with us."

The fork in her hand stilled.

Coming. With. Us.

For a second she didn't breathe. Was this a test? A trap?

What happened to ' you're not allowed at any social gathering?

Two feelings crashed into each other.

Happy: Victoria would be there. Nora. Music. Dresses. People her age who didn't look at her like she was made of glass.

Scared: what if she said the wrong thing? What if she wandered? What if they saw her mess up again?

She swallowed. " isn't it too early for that, Dad?"

Marco smiled. It was small, but it reached his eyes. " it never too early too early to show our daughter off." He set the tablet down. " But the rule stands. You stay by us. No wandering off. Deal?"

Emilia nodded, because her throat was too tight for words. She went back to her food.

.

.

.

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To be continued....