The laughter around me grew louder, sharp and mocking; someone even whistled mockingly.
Sebastian’s eyes were ice. “Enough,” he said, voice cutting through the noise. “Stop humiliating yourself. Take your exile notice and leave. From this moment, you no longer exist to me or to this family.”
I gripped the letter tightly, feeling only emptiness crawl through me. For five years, I had hidden my true identity, living as a low-profile operative in his organization, working tirelessly to help him rise to power.
And now, after personally laying the path to his dominance, he was ready to cast me aside like a used tool. I could endure loss—but I would not be made a fool. The last five years of my youth might have been wasted on an ungrateful Don, but I would not break.
“Sebastian… you’ll regret this,” I whispered, low and deadly.
Sebastian’s reaction was laughter, sharp and mocking, as though I had just made the world’s most absurd joke.
“Regret?” he barked. “The only thing I’ll regret is ever meeting a faithless heiress like you!”
He extended his hand toward Celeste. The two exchanged a triumphant smile and strode together to the center of the ballroom.
It was only then that I noticed—their matching ceremonial attire, a designer set of dark tailored suits and a flowing gown of deep crimson. He raised their joined hands high, his voice loud and commanding over the gathered family heads.
“Tomorrow marks the most crucial day in the history of our territory—our ascension! None of this would have been possible without the effort of every capo and soldier here. Together, we shall continue to rise to greatness!”
The room erupted in cheers, the walls shaking with applause and the clinking of glasses, the air electric with loyalty and ambition.
The endless praise for Sebastian and Celeste, hailed as the golden couple of the family, rang in my ears like grinding metal. Sebastian’s gaze swept over me, indifferent, as if I were nothing more than a shadow slipping through the grand hall. I felt utterly invisible, a ghost among men who had once claimed to respect me.
Staring at the man I had devoted five years of my heart and loyalty to, it finally hit me why my parents had always warned me about my judgment. They were right—I had been blind, hopelessly blind.