Isabella POV

Eleanor's silver wolf-headed cane struck the floor one final time. The heavy thud echoed through the dead silence of the Moretti estate's corridor, a definitive period at the end of a bloody sentence. Her icy gaze swept over the ashen faces of Gina and Caitlin, before finally settling on Francesca Gallo, whose mocking smirk had completely vanished.

"We have seen enough of the Moretti family's theatrics," Eleanor stated, her voice a clear, authoritative whip that demanded absolute submission. "The Carson family will clean up its own traitors."

She didn't give Caterina or anyone else a chance to speak. She turned to the Carson soldiers flanking us. "Take them away."

The drive back to the secure suite at the Carson-controlled hotel in downtown Chicago was suffocatingly silent. The moment the heavy double doors of the suite clicked shut, sealing us away from the blizzard outside, the illusion of family shattered completely.

Caitlin violently wrenched herself free from the soldiers' grip. She threw herself onto the plush carpet, crawling toward Eleanor's feet like a madwoman.

"It was a trap! She set me up!" Caitlin shrieked, her tear-streaked face twisting with pure venom as she pointed a trembling finger at me. "She wants to ruin me! She's a lying bitch!"

I didn't flinch. I stood perfectly still, looking down at the pathetic, ruined creature she had become. As she lunged toward me, spewing vile curses, I simply tilted my head.

"Tell me, Caitlin," I asked, my voice eerily calm against her hysteria. "Did you lose because you are stupid, or because you betrayed Carson blood?"

The words stripped away her last defense. Caitlin let out a guttural, hysterical scream, thrashing wildly on the floor.

"Enough!" Eleanor roared, her voice shaking the crystal chandelier above us. "One more word of disrespect toward Isabella, and you will not just face exile. I will hand you over to the Enforcers for *punishment*."

The threat of the Enforcers—the family's brutal torturers—made the room freeze. But the silence was broken by a sharp, vicious *smack*.

Aunt Gina had lunged forward, but not to comfort her daughter. She struck Caitlin across the face with all her might. Grabbing a fistful of Caitlin's tangled red hair, Gina yanked her head back.

"You stupid girl!" Gina hissed, her face contorted in a desperate, ruthless bid for survival. "You ruined yourself, and now you want to drag your sister Bridget down with you? Her marriage to the Gallo family will not be destroyed by your filth!"

Gina forced the stunned, sobbing Caitlin to her knees. Looking up at Eleanor, Gina raised her right hand, her eyes wide with feigned righteousness. "I swear on my life, Mother Eleanor. From this day forward, I only have one daughter. Bridget is my only child."

Caitlin's eyes widened in absolute horror. The last light in her eyes died as she realized her own mother had just severed their bloodline to save herself. Eleanor watched the brutal display with cold indifference, silently accepting the sacrifice.

Eleanor pointed her cane toward the heavy oak doors. "Strip her of the Carson name. Take every piece of jewelry, every dime that belongs to this family, and throw her out. From this moment on, Caitlin Carson no longer exists in Chicago."

The soldiers moved in without hesitation. They roughly tore the pearl necklace from Caitlin's throat and dragged her toward the exit. I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, pulling the heavy drapes aside.

Down below, the heavy doors of the hotel opened. I watched as my once-glamorous cousin was shoved out into the unforgiving Chicago blizzard, her torn emerald dress offering no protection against the freezing wind. She collapsed on the snow-covered pavement, her desperate wails swallowed instantly by the howling storm. She was nothing but trash now.

I pressed my fingertips against the freezing glass. Through the swirling snow, I could just make out the distant, glowing lights of the Moretti estate. Caitlin was just a pawn. The real monsters were still breathing in that mansion.

*No, this is just the beginning,* I whispered in my mind, the cold fire of my Vendetta burning brighter than ever. *Marco Moretti... Caterina... all of you. For what you did to my family, to my child... my Vendetta has just begun.*

Isabella POV

I turned away from the freezing glass. The guards had dragged a half-frozen, hysterical Caitlin back inside from the blizzard, throwing her onto the floor of the main hall to await her formal sentencing.

Before taking her seat, Eleanor paused near the heavy doors of the private study. Her piercing gaze locked onto Bridget, searching for the serpent beneath the sweet facade. I knew Caitlin was too stupid to orchestrate the complex trap at the Moretti estate alone.

Bridget kept her eyes downcast, her hands folded perfectly in front of her. "Nonna"(Grandmother), she murmured softly, "please mind your health. Caitlin was... irrational. She ruined the family's name, but we must stay strong."

Eleanor stared at her for a long moment before slowly withdrawing her gaze. In our world, the quietest ones were always the deadliest. I watched Bridget's flawless performance, a cold realization settling in my bones. Bridget was the real venom in the second branch.

We moved into the main hall. Eleanor took her seat in the high-backed leather chair, a judge presiding over the damned. As I stood beside her, the harsh chandelier light caught the side of my face. Eleanor’s eyes narrowed, fixing on the angry red welt still blooming on my cheek—Gina’s handiwork.

I didn't speak. I simply turned my head slightly, letting the bruise speak for itself.

"She struck the eldest daughter of the main branch," Eleanor's voice was a low, dangerous rumble.

Gina panicked. "Mother Eleanor, I was just... trying to discipline her for the family's honor!"

I cut her off, my voice like ice. "You told the Moretti wives I was a whore with no upbringing, Aunt Gina. You tried to hand my birthright to them."

Eleanor slammed her hand on the armrest. "You conspired with outsiders to destroy your own blood!"

Gina’s knees buckled. She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. "It was Caitlin! She deceived me!"

Desperate to save herself, Gina turned to the ruined Caitlin on the floor. "Apologize to your cousin!" Gina shrieked.

Caitlin just trembled, her eyes wide with manic hatred. Bridget stepped forward, kneeling beside her sister. She leaned in, her voice a soft, poisonous whisper meant only for Caitlin, but I caught the words. "Even if Bella pushed you to that Associate, you made a mistake first. She is just teaching you a lesson."

It was the perfect trigger. Caitlin snapped.

"She set me up!" Caitlin screamed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Bring that Associate here! He'll tell you she planned it all to keep the Moretti alliance for herself!"

I looked at her with cold pity. "I was drugged, Caitlin. I barely had the strength to walk. That man was your pawn, of course he would say whatever you paid him to."

"You classless bitch!" Caitlin let out a feral shriek and lunged at me, her hands clawing for my face.

*Clack!*

Eleanor’s silver wolf-headed cane struck the floor with deafening force. The guards instantly restrained Caitlin, forcing her to her knees.

"Enough," Eleanor commanded, her voice absolute and freezing. "Caitlin Carson, your actions have damaged the honor and discipline of this family beyond repair. You have two choices."

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

"You will either be sent to the most remote cloistered convent in Sicily, never to leave its walls," Eleanor declared, her eyes devoid of mercy. "Or, you will marry the bottom-feeding Associate who ruined you, and rot in the slums as his property."

Caitlin collapsed, a hollow shell, the reality of her two hells finally crushing her. The first piece of my Vendetta was complete. I looked toward the heavy oak doors, my mind already shifting to the real monster waiting in the dark. Marco Moretti was next.

Isabella POV

The spectacle in the main hall had served its purpose. Eleanor, disgusted by the public display of our fractured bloodline, ordered the guards to drag Caitlin away from the prying eyes of the lower-ranking members. We moved to the Private Chapel, a small, suffocating room paneled in dark walnut. Dozens of white candles flickered before a marble statue of the Virgin Mary, the air thick with the heavy scent of frankincense and old wood.

Caitlin was thrown onto the cold stone floor at the foot of the altar. Gina and Bridget stood trembling near the entrance. I remained silently by my grandmother’s side, the shadows of the chapel hiding the cold satisfaction in my eyes.

Eleanor stood tall, her silver wolf-headed cane resting firmly on the ground. She looked down at the ruined girl like a judge presiding over the damned.

"Make your choice, Caitlin," Eleanor commanded, her voice echoing off the stone walls.

Caitlin sobbed hysterically, her torn emerald dress pooling around her. "Mama, please! Don't let her send me away!" she shrieked, reaching a trembling hand toward Gina.

Eleanor struck the floor with her cane. *Clack.* "The convent or the slum. Choose now, or I will execute the highest family discipline and erase your name from the Carson ledger entirely. You will be nothing."

The threat of becoming a nameless nobody finally broke through Caitlin’s hysteria. Shaking violently, she choked out the words that sealed her fate. "The convent... Sicily."

Gina threw herself forward, tears streaming down her face. "Mother Eleanor, I beg you! Let her serve her punishment here. House arrest! She has lost her purity, isn't that punishment enough for a girl?"

Eleanor’s eyes blazed with a terrifying, cold fury. "You watched her humiliate Isabella in the Moretti estate. You conspired to hand our shipping lines to our enemies. And now you dare speak of punishment?" Eleanor took a step toward her daughter-in-law. "One more word, Gina, and I will call Declan to sign the banishment papers. You will be sent back to the Gallo family in disgrace, a laughingstock to the entire Chicago Outfit."

The words hit Gina like a physical blow. In our world, a woman banished back to her maiden family was socially dead. Gina’s mouth snapped shut, her face draining of all color.

"Your greed poisoned this branch," Eleanor continued, her tone absolute. "You will hand over the ledgers and keys to the laundromats and the funeral homes immediately. Furthermore, the marriages of all second-branch children will now be decided solely by me."

At that, Bridget’s head snapped up. Her eyes, usually cast down in feigned innocence, flashed with sharp calculation. She was secretly plotting to marry Marco Moretti to seize power; she could not afford to let our grandmother control her betrothal. Moving with subtle urgency, Bridget reached out and gave her mother’s skirt a sharp, hidden tug.

Gina caught the hint. Desperate to preserve Bridget’s chances of climbing the mafia ladder, Gina swallowed her pride and her tears. "I... I will surrender the ledgers, Mother Eleanor."

"Go pack them," Eleanor ordered dismissively. "Bridget, go assist your mother."

I watched from the shadows as Bridget guided her broken mother out of the chapel. Bridget had just sacrificed her mother’s power to protect her own ambition. She was far more dangerous than Caitlin ever was.

The guards hauled a weeping Caitlin out through the side door, destined for a ship to Italy.

The heavy oak doors clicked shut, sealing the chapel. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the soft crackle of the candle flames. The scent of frankincense suddenly felt suffocating.

Eleanor turned her back to the altar and faced me. The anger that had been directed at Gina and Caitlin was gone, replaced by something far more intense and unreadable. Her eagle-like eyes locked onto mine, stripping away the facade of the innocent victim I had played all night. She knew. She knew the flawless execution of my Vendetta was not just self-defense, but a calculated slaughter.

The air in the small room grew incredibly heavy.

"Kneel, Isabella," Eleanor commanded, her voice dropping to a low, chilling register that left no room for hesitation.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I slowly bent my knees, the freezing marble seeping through the fabric of my dress as I lowered myself before the Matriarch.