Chapter 3: Blood and Wine
A fire burned steadily inside the marble fireplace, filling the study with warm amber light that danced across shelves lined with centuries-old leather-bound books.
Camilla poured herself another glass of twelve-year-old Scotch.
She didn't bother looking toward the doors.
She already knew who had arrived.
The double doors opened.
Victor stepped inside.
Camilla lifted the glass and took one slow sip before finally meeting his eyes.
"I assume the boy talked."
Her voice remained calm.
"He always was weak."
Victor crossed the Persian rug at an unhurried pace.
"He was never the threat."
His eyes never left hers.
"He was the pawn."
"You gave him access to my home."
"You gave him the security codes."
"You sent him after the woman I love."
Camilla laughed once.
Sharp.
Cold.
"The woman you love?"
She slammed the crystal glass onto the antique desk hard enough for the liquor to ripple.
"She's a distraction."
"You lead this family."
"You are supposed to inspire fear."
"Since that blonde girl entered this house, you've become sentimental."
She stepped closer.
"I wasn't destroying your empire."
"I was protecting it."
Victor stopped only inches away.
Towering over her.
Yet his voice remained almost impossibly calm.
"You tried to take something that belongs to me."
"You mistook love for weakness."
Camilla's eyes narrowed.
"I am your blood."
"I built this organization beside your father."
"You wouldn't have an empire without me."
She lifted her chin.
"You can't touch me."
Victor slowly reached for her glass.
His movements were almost graceful.
He removed it from her hand without resistance and placed it carefully back onto the desk.
The silence stretched.
Then he leaned forward just enough for only she could hear.
"Blood makes us related."
His voice barely rose above a whisper.
"Loyalty makes us family."
May you like
Another pause.
"You've proven you're neither."
