He Called Me Disloyal, Then Lost His EmpireChapter 1
On the night of the family’s grand annual gala, Sebastian was practically vibrating with excitement. He had ordered a feast that could rival any kingpin’s banquet and instructed his consigliere to hand out double shares of the family’s profits to every loyal capo and soldier.
Celeste, all sweetness and smiles, moved from table to table, presenting neatly wrapped envelopes of cash and engraved tokens. Everyone accepted their gifts with gratitude—everyone, that is, except me. When she reached my spot, she shoved me back with surprising force.
“Step aside! Strays like you don’t belong in this family,” she spat.
I blinked, stunned. “What… what are you talking about?” I asked.
Her lips curled into a cruel grin as she tossed a notice across the table. It fluttered to the ground with a crisp slap. “A lowborn nobody like you has no claim to the family’s rewards. Leave before you embarrass the rest of us.”
Behind her, the massive crystal chandelier above reflected a series of projections—images of me entangled in what looked like intimate moments with high-ranking dons from rival families.
Finally, the ledger of rewards appeared. Every loyal member had been granted generous bonuses—cash, property stakes, influence—but my column glowed a harsh, unforgiving red zero.
I clenched my fists, staring up at Sebastian, who lingered nearby, silent and watchful.
“You’re really going to exile me… tonight?” I asked, voice tight with controlled anger.
The crystal continued cycling through the compromising images: me laughing with other family heads, sharing a toast, and in one humiliating shot, caught in an embrace as I stepped into a private office with one of them.
Sebastian finally tore his eyes away from the screen and gave me a cold, unreadable look. He said nothing.
“I asked you a question,” I pressed again, sharper this time. “Are you sure?”
The room went quiet. Every capo and soldier’s gaze was on him now, a mixture of fear and awe. Sebastian ignored it all, stepping forward until he loomed over me. His voice was ice scraping stone.
“Arwen,” he began, each word deliberate, “what right do you have to remain in this family? Every ounce of this family’s power comes from effort… except yours.”