Page 102 of Brutal Crown
My hands curl into fists.
“How do you think Cassian died?”
I blink, stunned. The name hits me like a slap.
“Cassian?” I repeat, slowly.
We all knew Cassian was killed here a day after the engagement party. I know, because I was the one who found him.
Everyone knew he died inside this estate, but no one knew how. Or why. There were whispers, of course, but nothing substantial. Even the Elders were tight-lipped, which in itself was fucking suspicious. And the De Lucas—his family—they never raised hell. No outrage. No accusations. Just… silence.
In a world like ours, silence like that is louder than any scream.
Things like thisdohappen in La Mano Nera.People disappear. People die. And no one dares question it. But still, Cassian was one of ours. A founding family’s heir. His father and mine were close, allies in blood and business. If my father is admitting it to me now…
Does this mean the Elders know?
Because at the last council meeting, one of them mentioned an “ongoing investigation.” I didn’t think much of it.
Now I do.
The De Lucas are one of the original six—founders of La Mano Nera—but their bloodline is different. Purported to descend fromveggenti, seers. Prophets. Cassian had that same gift, or curse, depending on how you look at it. He saw things. Things most of us weren’t meant to see. Things the Society has used in secret for generations, whispers of the future, glimpses into potential rebellion, warnings of betrayal.
And my father killed him. Just like that.
No punishment. No blood repayment. Novendetta.
Which means either the Society sanctioned it… or my father is much more dangerous than I’ve known.
I don’t know which is worse.
“I killed him because he saw too much,” my father says. “Because he was going to expose us.”
He pauses, then leans forward, his eyes gleaming dark.
“He found out aboutthe secret.The one buried beneath the foundation of this family. The one our ancestors committed,againstthe order of La Mano Nera.”
My breath lodges in my throat.
“He knew,” Dante says quietly, “what we did to survive. How Vecchio Nero—one of the original Elders—found a prophecy inThe Book of Silenceabout a child born from unsanctioned blood who would destroy the Society. He grew paranoid and started purging anyone tied to those bloodlines, including ours.”
He looks straight at me.
“He was going to expose how generations before us bound themselves—and their children—through forced unions, blood oaths, arranged marriages like you and Silvia. All of it meticulously crafted, generation after generation, to cover our tracks and secure our survival. So our families—the Romanos and the Morettis—formed an alliance in secret. They murdered Vecchio Nero and they falsified the ceremony of his death, made it look legitimate, and rewrote the bloodline laws without the other founding families knowing.
“Ever since, we’ve kept the lie alive.”
I feel cold. Like the temperature in the room just dropped ten degrees.
“The other founding families, if they knew the truth, they wouldn’t just cut us out. They’d erase us.Erased,Francesco. Gone. The Morettis. Anyone tied to the lie.”
He swallows hard.
“I’ve buried a lot of my friends,” he continues. “I’ve paid blood for loyalty. I’ve mourned the people I love.”
My chest tightens, pain flaring behind my ribs as old memories slam into me—my mother’s funeral, my baby brother’s face. The silence that followed. The emptiness that never left.
“You think you’re the first man who’s ever had to make a hard fucking decision?” he snarls. “The first man who wanted something he could never have?”
